Hartlepool visit

We paid homage to our some of our grandchildren yesterday with a trip north to see Lucy and her new partner Andy and the children and the newest one Theo plus Aaron. Lucy laid on a great tea and they surrendered their own bed for us. They have a fabulous old house with walls like battlements and a gated entrance. Unfortunately it still needs much doing, especially the plumbing but it will be great when all is done.

Barry, the Great Ex’s second husband, died just five years ago. He too had cancer though much further advanced than mine when it was discovered. He was a devout Christian and believed he would be cured by miraculous intervention so refused to discuss his dying. This meant he couldn’t talk about finances or insurance or funeral arrangements he might want.

Today we met up with Mike for lunch in Sedgefield and then two of Ann’s oldest friends Lorna and Nicky. MA was their bridesmaid and they have several pictures of her on the walls. LOrna is artistic and has done some beautiful tapestries with such fine detail and subtle colours they look like paintings. Finally we took the road south as it was growing dark, deciding to stay somewhere en route to break the journey. We looked in vein as far as Newark, a most barren town. Ann started to phone round and even Ben and Kaz started a remote search to help. Finally Ann found somewhere - the Allington Manor Hotel, a fine ancient house which creaks with ghosts. They don’t serve dinner but the pub across the road did, and we could retreat to the hotel for drinks before the fire.

Brussels

Brussels protesters

Our special Christmas present from Edwin was a surprise trip to Brussels. He suddenly produced two tickets and said we’d need to get away after my radiotherapy was over. He even booked a fine hotel for us. We didn’t know then that Ann would have had her cataract operation two days before. Now she is wearing dark glasses and can’t read anything but at least we should enjoy a couple of quiet days.  We are flying BA from Heathrow. Terminal Five is very up-market, they’re playing Mahler mood music in the toilets.

In Brussels, we did enjoy a very quiet day on Saturday, the constant rain allowing us only to explore the local side streets. The restaurants are all heavily meat pushers; the choice of vegetarian was limited, and combined with gluten-free for Ann, almost non-existent.

Cathédrale Saints-Michel-et-Gudule

On Sunday, the afternoon brought a brief gap in the rain, allowing us to escape and look for the Bronte presence in Brussels. We walked from the hotel towards the Cathédrale Saints-Michel-et-Gudule which Charlotte as Lucy Snowe attended for confession and mass as described in Villette. En route (I am getting back into my French), we were caught up in a mass protest rally and herded by the police—who would not let us leave the crowd—away from the Cathedral. We had had no warning there was to be a protest - but 70,000 people were marching for the environment, and like it or no we were part of the protest. Ann wondered that, when they finally split up after the march, how many would go home in their diesel cars to a Sunday roast? The best way to save the environment is from individual actions, not calls to governments, such as to go vegetarian.

Commemorative plaque to Charlotte Bronte

We finally escaped down a side road to find a plaque commemorating M. and Mme. Constantin Héger's school and the site where Charlotte lived in Brussels - but the plaque is all that is left.

Facing demons

Ann overcoming her demon

Ann had her cataract operation yesterday, and has survived. We cannot pretend that Ann was not nervous. Yesterday, the consultant had given her a prescription for Valium, which we'd had great difficulty in getting dispensed because he'd put the wrong date on! Even a second prescription faxed through to Boots had another wrong date, but the pharmacist agreed to dispense it. Ann took two before we left, but they didn't make much difference.

We arrived at the clinic early and joined into a line of people already waiting. The nurse double checked which eye was to be done, and marked it with a clear line drawn with an indelible pen. Then she started to apply the drops - some to numb the eye, and others to dilate the pupil. The consultant, Mr Ramsey, came out in scrub gear to talk to his patients and reassure them. His stated policy is to make the NHS service as good as or better than private care. It was certainly fast - we were in the next day. Progress was made by a theatre nurse shouting "Ready" down the corridor, and with each call a new patient was delivered, or a treated patient was collected.

Gradually the queue moved along until it was Ann's turn. Mr Ramsey came through again to look at the pupils, and said the woman next to Ann was well dilated and he'd do her next. It seemed unjust as she'd only had one set of drops, and Ann had already had five sets. As people came out, they seemed relaxed and talked of how easy it had been, so Ann was very calm. However, when this woman she came out, she was half-carried by the nurse and Mr Ramsey, because she'd fainted! Then it was Ann's turn. Ten minutes later, there was another call of "Ready" and Ann was brought out, shaky but relieved and upright. She has faced her biggest demon and conquered it.

Cataracts

Ann attended an appointment at the cataract clinic this morning. She has been on an indefinite waiting list for two years at Bury Hospital, so they transferred her to Thetford which has a shorter list. The health centre there is a new but ugly building, shaped like an oval and with huge weird drapes hiding a glass roof over the dome.

In the waiting room, an old man with a crutch stood to his name and hobbled slowly towards the door. "Take your time," said the nurse. It's strange how a small inflexion can change compassion to sarcasm. This voice bordered on neutral and could be taken either way. "How are you?" he asked in a reversal of roles.

The eye clinic looked oddly temporary with the illuminated chart propped on a towel dispenser against the wall, and a printer sat on the couch.  I was sat on a chair holding the door open, and people passed through as though the room were a corridor. The machinery too looked basic, nothing like the sophistication of Spec Savers or Vision Express.

Finally we were called in to the great man - it was Mr. Ramsey, the same man who had diagnosed Ann's macular hole when she developed blindness in one eye some ten years ago. He explained the mechanism and virtues of cataract surgery, then out of the blue said, "we have a cancellation. You can come in tomorrow." Ann agreed straight away - she had been dreading waiting on a list and might have changed her mind had she been forced to delay. So tomorrow we have to turn up at 9:30 for the op. I think she is incredibly brave, and it was certainly faster than Bury.

Hundon Eclipse

Total eclipse over Hundon

I did it - I actually managed to get up and step outside at 5a.m., still in my pyjamas and into a bitterly cold hard frost. But the sky was clear and the stars bright as I glimpsed the super-blood moon low in the western sky.

Rhetorical question: are bosses the same the world over?
I had a piece of work due for Friday, but come the afternoon my boss said she would be away on Monday, so gave me an extra day to work on it. Come this afternoon I logged on to send it in, only to find an email from her with a whole new paper to review and include, plus another section. She wants it in for tomorrow, but that was a day I had planned to take off!

Finishing late, and it growing dark, I chose to walk the dogs closer to home, along the reservoir road at the top of the hill rather than in Clare. Hundon reservoir is well hidden, despite being the highest point in East Anglia. The air was still and the puddles still frozen over. It was deserted as I looked down on the far hills in the gloomy dusk; quite alone and peaceful after a full and busy day. Then home for a cup of tea. Perfect.

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Family visits

We had a brief but welcome visit from son Ben and his family, Kaz and Luke, yesterday. They would not stay the night, being concerned that I might be too ill, but we took them for a good lunch in the Swan in Clare, a warm and friendly medieval coaching inn with an old fashioned coaching fire to keep the cold at bay. Luke is 16 now and selecting the subjects he wants ready for the 6th form college. He hopes to specialise in computer science/programming, which is a very sound choice these days when so much of our existence is dependent on a hidden programme somewhere.

Super moon over our garden

Coincidentally, we had some messages from Luke's great-grandfather this week. We have never met the man, but he's 93 and also enjoys programming and tinkering with computers for amusement. He also enjoys researching family history, and was working on Luke's tree when he discovered us, and contacted us through Ancestry. He is one of the last survivors of the war, having been a PoW in the Burma campaign, but Luke says he won't talk of it. He is often invited to present a wreath at the Cenotaph on Armistice Day, but always refuses because of the terrible memories it invokes.

Tonight is a full moon, and it's exceptionally large and bright. A total eclipse is scheduled for the early hours.  I'll try and be up to witness it if clouds will permit. In the meantime, Ann photoed it over our garden, and Matthew sent a picture he took with his new camera. Very impressive pics.

Getting good service

The pain and discharge from below are so bad that today I phoned the Oncology nurse at Addenbrooke's on the special help line they provided. I explained the problem, but couldn't help directly; but she did agree to ask the oncologist. Later she phoned back to say that it wasn't the radiotherapy, and the oncologist had no direct experience of this problem. He advised that I phone my GP. This I did, and sure enough within a short time there was a prescription for a cream and antibiotic waiting at the pharmacy for me to collect, and the message to get straight back to them if it didn't improve over the weekend. Definitely one nil to the GP!

Ann is looking for a new reading lamp for her room. The present one is very old, and gets too hot to sit under. We went first to Glasswells in Bury to search, but they were all very pricey and we rarely find anything we like there anyway. Today was no exception - the range of lamps was very limited. Then we went to the furniture showroom, a large warehouse type of place in the middle of nowhere, that has all sorts of end-of-line items, but they too were fruitless. Finally, she has ordered one on line - a cool LED lamp with five dimming positions, and half the price of anything in Glasswells. It will be delivered tomorrow. No wonder stores are closing all round the country - on line shopping is so much more convenient, with a vast selection, and competitive pricing. I can see a time when there will be no department stores left, except for the tourists on Oxford Street.