Tag Archives: dialysis issues

Saturday 27th June 2026 – FIRST SATURDAY BACK …

… at dialysis, and it wasn’t as ghastly as I was expecting. I mean, any time that I spend in a hospital or clinic and not at home is quite ghastly, but I reckon that I’ll survive this, one way or another.

After all, if I have survived all of these nights just recently, I must be doing something right, I suppose. It ended up being another late night going to bed but what helped in some way was having taken an antibiotic before retiring. Bizarrely, I didn’t have one single cough during all of the night.

However, that’s not everything, though. I awoke at about 03:20, for no particular reason that I could see, and then afterwards, I just couldn’t seem to go back to sleep. I just lay there, watching the clock go round and round and hearing the waste lorry come for the waste paper at 05:25 and I remember thinking “I may as well get up in a minute”.

The next thing that I remember, though, was the alarm going off at 06:29 as usual. I must have gone back to sleep.

It took the usual Age for me to gather up my wits, gird up my loins and then head for the bathroom. A good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, and then into the kitchen for my medication. The last Saturday of the month, so there are eleven to take this morning. But that’s still a far cry from when it was 32 over the whole day.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had gone on during the night.

There had been some kind of party taking place at our house so I had to move all of my LPs somewhere because we needed the room. After everyone had gone, Nerina began to sort out one or two LPs, but I just looked around at how depressing everything was, covered in crumbs, empty plates, and half-eaten sandwiches. I said to her “before you get those out, can we just clear this mess here that’s covering the table?”. “But there’s nothing there” she replied, so I told her exactly what I could see. She just made some kind of dismissive gesture and walked away. I didn’t know what was the matter with her. I hadn’t even asked her to clear the things away. I just thought that it was the next thing that we should be doing.

Quite often in the past, I’d be confused by the signals that Nerina was sending out. That’s the problem when you live with people of different cultures – they don’t react as you would expect. I know that at times, Laurence had problems understanding some of my reactions, but that’s no surprise because so did I at times.

When Isabelle the Nurse arrived, she allowed me into the kitchen to have my treatment and talked about the foot race that’s taking place this evening. Apparently, one of her daughters is taking part in it. And so, too, is one of the nurses from dialysis.

After she left, I made breakfast and while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

And look at this for a bunch of mid-nineteenth-century jingoism. "What is the whole history of the East, the countless dynasties of China, India, and Egypt, with all their vast dominions, their early civilisation, and their fixed and ancient institutions, but a barren catalogue of kings, and priests, and conquerors, when it is viewed side by side with one living and stirring page of Greece, or Rome, or mediaeval Europe? One word from one man in a little town of Greece or Italy had ofttimes more effect on the future destinies of the human race than all the laws and victories of a thousand Shahs or Pharaohs."

And there’s much more in that vein too. Much, much more.

Once breakfast was over, I came back in here to carry on with the radio notes, and I am pleased to say that they are now complete and ready for dictation. In fact, there are piles of stuff that need dictating, but I’m really going to have to wait until this cough is completely gone before I try anything. It’ll end up being a total mess if I don’t … "so what’s new?" – ed …

Round about midday I went off to make myself ready for dialysis, when I was met by my cleaner coming in to fix my anaesthetic. We quickly organised ourselves, except that although I remembered the midday medication, I forgot the disgusting drink. I don’t know what’s the matter with me these days.

After she left, I had to wait for the taxi, which was a few minutes late. And it was the driver who used to always take me at one time, whom I haven’t seen for ages. I was his only passenger so we had a good chat all the way down to dialysis.

Once more, I was put into the new building up the hill, but not in a single room, unfortunately. They also have a ward with four beds in it and a side ward leading off that has two beds. I was in one of the beds in the side ward today.

However, I felt sorry for those in the main room. There was a woman in there who had had a very bad fall earlier in the day and was in absolute agony all through the session. She was screaming and doing all kinds of things, and it must have been very off-putting for those around her.

They told me that I only had to do three hours today, which is better than four, I suppose. And as there wasn’t much weight to lose, it was more like a leisurely stroll rather than a maximum effort flat-out affair. That suited me even better.

In any case, I was hardly bothered at all throughout the whole afternoon, which was even better. I was actually unplugged at 17:15 too, being one of the earliest to leave, so I was back here at 18:00.

It was the same driver who brought me home, and he handed me over to my faithful cleaner who helped me into my apartment.

After she had sorted me out and left, I made myself a sandwich. However, I only just about managed to eat it because, once more, it tasted of nothing but salt. My taste buds are all in a total mess since chemotherapy last autumn.

So now, I’m back in here finishing off my notes, ready so that I can go to bed. I’ve promised myself another Sunday lie-in but we shall have to see, as I’m not feeling very optimistic about that these days – at least, until I’ve finished this second course of antibiotics, and then “only just”?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about jingoism … "well, one of us has" – ed … some of the worst jingoism these days comes from the other side of the Atlantic.
A few years ago, there was a Texan in a pub in Chester going on about how rubbish he thought the UK was. "I reckon that the Uk is the asshole of the world" he bawled.
"That’s right" said another customer "and I suppose that you are just passing through."

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Thursday 25th June 2026 – AND FIRST, THE …

… bad news. I start back this weekend on three dialysis sessions per week. Apparently, once more Emilie the Cute Consultant has put her foot down … Mind you, she had to send an oppo out to bring me the bad news just in case I chose to argue or to fight. She doesn’t want to upset me that much, which is good news.

Actually, my cleaner and I have been expecting this for a few weeks now, ever since I saw the last complete set of blood test notes. They didn’t look healthy at all. Nevertheless, I was rather hoping to avoid the inevitable for as long as I could.

Anyway, last night after I’d finished everything that needed doing and was preparing for bed, something else cropped up And it ended up being well after 23:30 by the time that I slid into bed.

Now these days, things are becoming so confused. This last day or two, I’ve not been able to work out when I’m awake or when I’m asleep. There doesn’t seem to be a difference to me. So I’m not sure whether I’m falling asleep, whether I’m dreaming or whatever is going on. In fact, I seem to be in a right mess these days with all of this hallucinating or whatever it is that’s going on.

Consequently, I’ve no idea what time it was that I fell asleep or anything.

One thing that I do know is that round about 02:30, I had another one of these enormous twenty-minute coughing fits that led to yet another bout of vomiting, but anyway …

Seeing that I was awake, I decided to go for a stroll on the parapet and then I went back to bed. I suppose that at some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I remember another dramatic awakening, this time at 06:19.

There was no point going back to sleep at that point, so I put my feet on the floor and claimed an early start.

After the alarms had sounded, I went into the bathroom to sort myself out and came back in here to listen to the dictaphone. But I needn’t have bothered. It seems that I have forgotten how to dream, which is a disaster.

Instead, I found a few other things to do until Isabelle the Nurse turned up. Once more, I was banned from the kitchen and she insisted on dealing with me in here, which is not how I would like things, not in my own apartment.

Eventually, I managed to struggle into the kitchen and read the rest of “The Mediaeval Findings At Minnis Bay, Birchington, Site Of The Lost Settlement Of Gore End, Limb Of The Cinque Port Of Dover” by Trevor and Vera Gibbons. This was something that I downloaded FROM ACADEMIA.EDU.

It was one of those books that went out, not with a bang but with a whimper, and I do have to say that I was surprised by the “informal tone” of the book. Not in the least academic at all.

Back in here, I made a start on writing the radio notes. And by the time that I was ready to go and have a wash and shave, I’d written just over a quarter of them. I’ll finish off the rest tomorrow.

Having had a good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, I went into the kitchen to prepare everything for dialysis. My faithful cleaner came to join me and applied my anaesthetic to my arm, and then I had to wait for the taxi.

She was a few minutes late, and then we had to go to pick up someone else. Nevertheless, we were still early arriving in Avranches, and the good news is that I had been promoted to the new, air-conditioned building, complete with its luxurious single bedrooms.

The bad news is, though, that it’s not the same wi-fi password so I had to ask for another. And that took an age before the nurse brought it to me. I think that she was seeking revenge because the one who was dealing with me today was the one who nags me that I won’t do my own compression.

The doctor came to see me and told me the bad news about Saturday. However, she also brought me a prescription for another round of that mega-antibiotic that killed this cough off, temporarily, a few weeks ago. Let’s hope that it does the same this time too, only much more permanently.

Just because I was in solitary confinement doesn’t mean that I was left alone. They set the machine to perform a blood pressure test every thirty minutes, and each time, as the blood pressure dropped and dropped, the alarm bell rang and the nurses came a-running. They can’t seem to understand that although a blood pressure of 8/5 is extremely low in their eyes, it’s quite normal for me.

Once more, I was last to be unplugged but my chauffeur was waiting for me and we drove home through the menacing black sky. There’s a storm brewing, right enough.

There was a group of neighbours hanging around the front door, chatting, when I arrived. I joined in for a while and then my cleaner helped me into here. I changed my shoes and then came in here, ready to go to bed. I’ve had enough for the day so I’ll finish my notes tomorrow.

But as I climbed into bed, the flashes of lightning creeping in around the gaps in the edges of the shutters looked impressive. My cleaner, who has a view south towards Avranches, gave me a running commentary on the ‘phone as to how the storm was developing, but just as it was becoming interesting, I must have fallen asleep.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about thunder and lightning … "well, one of us has" – ed … there was a priest and a businessman playing golf on the golf course at Avranches during the storm.
The businessman went to make an easy putt to win the hole, but his ball ran past. "F**k me, I missed" he exclaimed.
"Really!" said the priest, totally outraged. "Kindly moderate your language in the presence of the Lord!"
However, at the next hole, precisely the same thing happened again. "F**k me, I missed" exclaimed the businessman.
"Really!" said the priest, totally outraged. "Kindly moderate your language in the presence of the Lord! He will surely send down a thunderbolt to chastise you if you continue!"
However, at the third hole, precisely the same thing happened again. "F**k me, I missed" exclaimed the businessman.
At that moment, one of the bolts of lightning came down and struck dead the Bishop of Avranches who was playing on an adjacent hole.
"F**k me, I missed" said a deep, booming voice from up in the clouds.

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Thursday 18th June 2026 – YET ANOTHER DAY …

… that hasn’t gone anything like I wanted it to. But that’s not really a surprise because I don’t think that I’ve had a day just recently that has gone according to plan and it’s high time that I pulled myself together and made things work for me.

Fair enough, I finished my work at some kind of reasonable time (although after 22:30) and was soon in bed. I was asleep quite quickly too, but not for long.

Round about 02:00 I awoke with an enormous fit of coughing of the like that I hadn’t seen before, not even during the bad old days of a month or two ago. It went on for an hour with no respite at all, and then after that, it was “cough – sleep – cough – sleep” right the way through to when the alarm went off, when I was actually awake.

Once I’d gathered my wits, etc., I slid over to my comfy chair and began to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

After I left school, I was working as a trainee accountant for a coin-machine company that had coin machines scattered everywhere all over various towns. I was in Crewe, of course, so I was learning my trade at the office in Crewe and one of my tasks was, late at night, usually on a Tuesday because it was quiet, to go round and empty the various machines. What I didn’t realise at first, but I soon did, was that I was always being followed by three men in a green Vauxhall Viva convertible. It turned out that their role was that if I were attacked in the street, they would all pile out of the Vauxhall Viva and give my opponent a severe beating. I wasn’t sure how legal it was, but first of all, it was comforting that I was being looked after like this late at night, but also, I wasn’t sure what was likely to happen to me if someone were attacked and badly beaten and the police came round to talk to me about it, so I was being torn away in two halves here.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I could see myself being “suckered in” to some kind of criminal enterprise when I was younger. Boredom and the quest for adventure are usually very good motivators for that

And three men following in a dark green Vauxhall Viva convertible (a Mark II Viva, by the way) to protect the cash and not necessarily me would be exactly the kind of thing that I would organise if I were running the show.

We’d found this old bicycle so we were using it to keep in touch with all of the outposts and outlying fortifications for the city of Avranches. We were afraid that the intermission would be over and the fighting would restart imminently so they had sent their guy on a bicycle to me. I was well to the east of the city, covering the bridges at Ponts and making sure that we weren’t outflanked in the town. The guy who arrived on the bike wasn’t very happy at all. He couldn’t understand why he had been chosen, he couldn’t understand why he’d come on this bike or why he was the one who had to do the cycling or not. There was also, in my post, a girl from a previous dream. She was rather the aggressive type so she began to have a row with him. I was just sitting there watching this, but eventually I put my hand in where all the cans and bottles were. I pulled out a can and began to drink it. In the end, the other two calmed down and agreed to cycle off in different directions – the girl went back to London and he went back to Avranches. I went then with my team to defend the eastern flank of Avranches.

Avranches would be a lovely city to defend in a war. It’s situated several hundred feet up on top of a sheer cliff of a ridge that stretches for several miles, with clear views from the top of much of the southern part of the département of La Manche. I would fortify many of the buildings in the town that overlook the cliff, and towards the east, I’d dig in a variety of defensive positions on top of the ridge. My position seems to be on the ridge overlooking the town of Ponts, from where it would be possible for attackers to outflank the town.

At one point in this dream when they began to argue, the girl had come downstairs from somewhere and the boy was down at the far end of this post, so when he saw her, he came back and I had to bend my body out of the way so that he could come past. But when they were doing something with this cup of sausages, I don’t know what I was doing but the guy was coming past me, and as he came past me, the girl climbed onto her bike and cycled away so he did the same in his direction.

So it seemed that I’d stepped back into this dream at some point later, and our two guests cycled away from each other again. But I wonder what they were doing with this cup of sausages.

The nurse came by as usual, bringing his floozy with him. But the bad news is that it’s her last day. Tomorrow is, apparently, report writing and then she returns to the educational establishment from whence she came for the final week before summer break.

After they left, I made my breakfast and read some more of EBURACUM OR YORK UNDER THE ROMANS by C Wellbeloved.

Our discussion on artefacts found in Eburacum has continued, with plenty of “artefacts known to have been found but now lost from view”. And these are just the ones that we know of. There must be scores, if not hundreds, of artefacts found whose existence has never been made known to the World at large.

And somehow, we seem to have entered into a discussion about Roman brick-making. I certainly am learning a lot!

Back in here, there were plenty more things to do, such as to write the notes from yesterday when I was overwhelmed by fatigue and went to bed instead. That wasn’t as easy as it might have been either because I’d forgotten much of what had happened.

Nevertheless, I finished with just about enough to go for a wash and shave before my faithful cleaner came to apply my anaesthetic. It didn’t take her long and she was soon off again, being in a rush as usual.

The taxi was early for a change but we had to go to pick up someone else at the hospital here, someone with whom I’ve travelled before.

We were still early arriving at the dialysis centre, where for some reason, I was put into an individual room – the room which is the farthest possible away from the entrance. They make me work, don’t they?

The time that it took me to walk there meant that I was once again last to be settled so it was 14:25 when they finally finished connecting me and began the procedure.

At first, all went normally and I had no interruptions, which meant that I could have quite a sleep, but later in the session, the machine kept on sounding the alarm every five minutes or so and the nurses came a-runnin’. When the machine sounds the alarm, it pauses the operation until it’s reset so I saw the session lengthen and lengthen all the time.

In the end, they worked out that my blood was coagulating because of the sun shining directly on the machine so they decided to cut short the session with just ten minutes to go. That was disappointing.

But in the time that it took them to come to unplug me and to compress my arm, I may just as well have carried on to the bitter end with the session. It was five past seven when I eventually left the premises and we didn’t return home until ten to eight, having had to go to drop someone else off on the way. Luckily, it was my favourite driver, so I didn’t mind that at all. We had a good chat all the way home.

My cleaner had almost given up waiting for me, but she helped me into the apartment and did her best to organise me, which was very nice.

After she left, I warmed up the other half of the pizza that I made yesterday, but after four mouthfuls, the rest of that went into the bin too. It’s gone back to tasking of nothing but salt, like everything did just after chemotherapy. Instead, I did the washing-up, grabbed a packet of biscuits and came back in here.

There were a few things to do before I started the notes for the day. But I’d barely started them when I was overwhelmed by tiredness, so I abandoned the attempt and went to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about pizza … "well, one of us has" – ed … not many people know this, but Good King Wenceslaus’s favourite meal was pizza.
One of my friends, to whom I told this story, didn’t believe me. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes, he did" I retorted. "And you know how he liked his pizza?"
"No."
"He liked them deep pan, crisp and even."

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Monday 8th June 2026 – I’M COMPLETELY FED UP …

… with all of this. Who in their right minds would put two experienced nurses of a good length of service into a ward with just six people and two inexperienced nurses (one who started here on 1st January and the other on 1st May) together in a ward full of eight people?

And guess where I was!

It totally defies description that the staffing organisation in a place like this could be so totally chaotic. I really felt sorry for the two girls being so snowed under like this. It’s true that the two experienced nurses came into our ward near the end and helped them tidy up, but by then, it was far too late to do any good.

Just like last night, really. By the time that I climbed into bed, it was too late for me to have the kind of sleep that would do any good, especially after the early morning on Sunday.

However, I’d only been in bed for five minutes when I began to dream about some home improvements I wanted to do. There was someone, a British guy, doing some work on a place up the road so I went to see him about coming along to do some work for me. He didn’t say very much, but after a while, what he said was that he would give me some of his tools to carry down to my house so that they were there when he came. He gave me what looked like an enormous professional mastic gun that ran off the mains and was on two wheels, and somehow, I had to take this home. He unplugged the machine from the wall and then we came to a huge cable drum with three or four different cables on it that you wound in. It was divided into four or so compartments. He had the white power lead, and there was a splitter in the middle of it, so he unplugged the lead that was in the splitter and worked his way round, winding this cable off the cable drum until eventually they were both free. But there was a box in the middle of this white cable so he opened it up and took a battery out. It looked like a PP3 to me, so I asked him what sort of battery it was, and he replied that it was a PP2, which was one that I hadn’t heard of. I didn’t say anything – I just took the cable as best as I could and there was no battery in that box now so I had to find a PP2 battery from somewhere to make it work, and I was making myself ready to push it on down to my house.

This must be something to do with the guy who rang me on Sunday. He was telling me about all of the improvements that he had made to his property.

The battery issue presumably relates to my friend who was just here for a while. “Batteries” was quite a topic of discussion.

At that point, I awoke dramatically, but only for a moment and I was soon back to sleep.

The next time that I awoke, the day was just starting to dawn. But even though I was contemplating leaving the bed at one point, I must have gone quickly back to sleep because when the alarm went off, it awoke me.

Once I was dressed, I slid over to the computer and began to start work. The first task was to see where I’d been during the night.

Seren made another appearance last night. We were in North Africa, somewhere in a desert condition where there was a town. For some reason, we were walking around on the edge of town and I noticed that these cars were driving along this straight road but suddenly moved to the left and back to the right again, so we went over to find out why. There was no apparent reason except for a hollow in the ground, so Seren began to dig in this hole and she came upon a metal box. She picked up the metal box and we went back to our hotel. We couldn’t open the box, but it looked quite old so we rang a local museum, which came to look at it. They took it away and gave us a receipt. It turned out that it was a treasure from some sheikh from some hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago. They offered her 100,000 dirhams for it, but she said that maybe it might be worth a bit more if they looked more at it. In the end, she settled for 900,000 dirhams.

This dream relates to the guided tour that I was giving around Chester the other day and the story of the Roman amphitheatre that had my visitors so enthralled.

And by the way, 900,000 Moroccan dirhams is worth about €85,000 and never mind the treasure – I would sell my own grandmother for that amount of folding stuff.

For some reason, we were living in a three-bedroom detached house with an integral garage, quite modern. And with the story of this treasure, I had to take it to the museum but Seren was ill. But we moved suddenly in this dream to a hotel that also had an integral one-car garage so I left Seren in there with instructions not to open the door to anyone. If she needed anything, ask the receptionist in the hotel, and I went off. It wasn’t to the museum, it was to the police and they wanted to know more about finding this box. They said that a group of criminals was eager to lay their hands on it. He showed me a photo of the man who was said to be their ringleader. I recognised him immediately as someone who had seen us dig it up, so he sent orders out to someone to do something. He then switched back to French and said that it’s quite possible that this box is going to end up being more valuable than I might think. So I left there and went back to the hotel to find that Seren had gone. At that point, I had a ‘phone call saying that it’s one million dirhams to have her back. And then the ‘phone was cut.

Yes, I’ve given those kinds of instructions out to some people before. And the house was just like a house that Nerina and I once saw with a view to buying if only we could have sold ours quickly.

But this dream is starting to sound too much like the plot to CARRY ON SPYING for my liking.

Incidentally, throughout these pages, you’ll see links to Amazon products appearing every now and again. Being a Sales Associate of Amazon, I receive a small commission on goods sold via my links. It costs you nothing at all extra, but helps defray … "part of the" – ed … cost of my not-insubstantial web-hosting fees.

There are also links for AMAZON UK, AMAZON USA and, since the recent “troubles”, AMAZON CANADA for the use of my numerous Canadian visitors. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am extremely grateful when someone uses them to make a purchase.

What made me go to the police was that there was a message on this box inscribed in runes. And whilst I can read some runes, I can’t read the rest but I did know that the Norse never came this far south so I assumed that it had been stolen from somewhere and brought and hidden in the desert.

And this part relates to the book that I’m reading right now. They’ve discovered a spearhead and when they x-rayed it, they saw a mark on it that, to some, resembled a rune and to others, no, it didn’t.

At some point, a man and a few of his sidekicks turned up. They asked me how I could live with the recent election results but not live without Seren. It suddenly became clear what was going on. This man was a Bedouin and all the time that he was talking to me, he was combing his hair. And then, when he had finished, he sent one of his sidekicks off to fetch him another comb. He had really thick bushy hair and a bushy moustache and beard but I hadn’t seen him before.

The beard and moustache remind me of my friend, but my caller was much more like the Fat Man in the above-mentioned film.

So, not just going back into the same dream once more, but three times more. Is this a record for stepping back into dreams?

And did I succeed in rescuing Seren? Tune in next time, people, same time, same place.

The nurse turned up as usual, even more cheerful than yesterday. Still, he’s off on his week’s break tonight and it’s Isabelle the Nurse starting tomorrow. He was in chat mode, talking about the commerces in Granville. After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of Vera Evison’s book AN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY AT HOLBOROUGH, KENT while I was eating.

And I had to laugh, although I know that I shouldn’t. Someone broke into their workshed and stole some tools and a couple of artefacts. She was quite indignant, but what is she doing in the graves that they are exposing? A well-known phrase involving a pot and a kettle springs to my mind.

Back in here, I carried on adding products to MY AMAZON STORE for a while. And then I went to make myself look pretty for Emilie the Cute Consultant.

My faithful cleaner sorted out my anaesthetic, and then, the taxi was early for me. And believe it or not, it was a Mercedes-Benz. Apparently, my taxi company had taken over this one at the start of the month, and it’s a bit more upmarket than what we are used to.

It was pouring with rain outside and I had to find my raincoat.

Our driver had to go via Sartilly to pick up our usual Monday partner, and then we set off for the dialysis centre.

The driver threw me out at 13:35 and due to the chaos in our room, I wasn’t plugged in until exactly an hour later as the two girls struggled against the odds. And when they did, it hurt like hell and it’s still hurting now.

Once I was up and running, I was able to do some work until the doctor on duty came to see me. No prizes for guessing who. That’s right, Emilie the Cute Consultant. She asked me how I was, and I told her that the pain in my foot had started up again, and in spades too. So she wrote a prescription basically telling me to double the dose of the painkillers.

That was exactly what I was afraid of, right at the very beginning, but it’s too late to back out now. At least, she was cheerful and smiling about it.

At the end of the session, we had exactly the reverse procedure, and so although I’d finished at 18:05, it was 17:55 when I returned home. At least the driver was waiting for me, and he’d been waiting quite a bit too.

There was a howling gale outside now, so he dropped me off at the back of the building where my faithful cleaner was waiting. She helped me in and settled me down.

After she left, I had the half-pizza from Sunday, and now, late as it may be, I’m off to bed. Welsh in the morning so I want to be on form.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about being in the desert … "well, one of us has" – ed … I told a friend that I’d once taken Nerina to the North African desert.
"And what happened?" he asked
"I came back with nine camels and fifteen goats."

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Thursday 4th June 2026 – THEY’VE DONE IT …

… again!

When we go to dialysis, we’re put into beds, where we stay throughout the session. What I do is to tilt the head of the bed upright, grab hold of a side table and put my computer on it so that I can work.

Sometimes, though, I have a little … errr … relax and close my eyes for a few minutes. Today was no exception, and at one point, I drifted off into a nice little snooze.

But then, one of the nurses came by. "Mr Hall! Mr Hall! You can’t possibly sleep like that" she said, waking me up from being asleep. Dropping the head of the bed down to horizontal, she said "there! You can sleep much better like that!"

But, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, once I’m awake, I’m awake. And so that was that. Why can’t these people leave me alone?

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, It was later than I wanted it to be when I finally went to bed, but I eventually slid under the quilt and went to sleep.

But not for long, though. At about 01:10, I awoke for the obvious reasons that anyone of my age will know, and so in the darkness, I went to stroll the parapet. Back in bed, I was soon asleep and there I stayed until the alarm went off at 06:29.

When the second alarm went off, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, already half-dressed. There was no noise from next door so I went and attacked the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night … "apart from walking the parapet" – ed …

Seren was living with me and Nerina was coming around as usual, only a bit more often because she had started to adapt to the idea of Seren being in the family. Seren went on another school adventure to somewhere where there were sixty-two beds. This was the site of a couple of murders and where the author came to find inspiration for her books. Other kids come here every week for a week for five days to be a bit more independent and be able to look after their own things, sort out the things for demolition and make sure that they are taken away. But it’s around about this moment that ……… She’s quite happy to chat a little about it rather than go on the defensive and hide.

First of all, you’ll have to excuse the row of dots near the end of the above. This dream began to recount a very personal story concerning someone, and I’m sure that if she were here, she would certainly not want it broadcasting around the whole World. It’s not my usual fashion to censor any of my dreams, except where they are far too gruesome to publish, but in this case, I’m afraid that I’ll have to make an exception.

But hello, Nerina, welcome back. And as for who Seren might be … "Seren means ‘star’ in Welsh and it’s a very popular girls’ name in north-west Wales" – ed … I shall leave it to your own fertile imaginations to figure it out. Answers, please, on a postcard to …

So when Seren goes back a second time, the people sitting with Nerina had changed and there were two government officials instead of two friends so Seren thinks that she had better be on her best behaviour and try to behave a little more maturely.

By the looks of things, I stepped back into the previous dream, but I seem to have missed a chunk out of the middle. That’s a shame, because I would have loved to have seen this dream unfolding. However, it’s given me an idea for a cunning plan.

As I finished and was looking around for some more work, I heard the rattling of coffee cups next door, so, thinking that this might be coffee time, I went into the kitchen. Sure enough, the coffee was ready so I poured out two mugs and after I’d passed one to my friend, I went to find my medication.

While we were drinking, we were chatting about all kinds of historical memories from the past around Crewe and Nantwich, reliving old times. We were interrupted by the arrival of the nurse and, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the Hound of the Baskervilles didn’t even bat an eyelid at his arrival. However, he did come over for a handful of strokes.

After the nurse had gone, I made breakfast and then while I was eating, I was reading some more of RECENT EXCAVATIONS IN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERIES by T C Lethbridge.

Today, we left Hollywell Row and are now in our second cemetery, at Burwell in Cambridgeshire. The graves here are a century or so more recent, and Lethbridge speculates from the artefacts present that the graves contain early Christian burials.

Furthermore, he tells us that “an ancient church is known to have stood against the site” of the cemetery. Strangely, in most documents about the town that I have read, there’s no mention of the ancient church or the cemetery. It seems that everyone has missed Lethbridge’s book when they were drawing up the details for the websites and publications, so that I hope that one day, someone will read my blog and pick up the details.

Who knows? I might become a source once more for an artificial intelligence website search. That’s twice so far already that artificial intelligence has quoted me as a source of information.

After breakfast, the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off for walkies. I had a good wash, shave and scrub up in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. Then I came in here and added some more music, videos and books to MY AMAZON STORE. It’s free to me, I earn a small commission off the products that are sold from it, so what more do I need? … "How about some customers?" – ed …

Eventually, it was time to prepare myself for dialysis. and as daddy had gone out for lunch in the foyer des jeunes travailleurs, I had to look after the Hound of the Baskervilles. However, I was soon relieved of my duty when his Auntie Cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic.

Once she had done her stuff, she gave the Hound of the Baskervilles another good stroke and then wandered off on her rounds, and I waited for the taxi.

For a change, it was early today, but it almost wasn’t when the chauffeur went bounding off upstairs to the old apartment and we had to call him back down. Surprisingly, it took less effort than usual to walk to the car so I don’t know what’s happened. It must be the obstacle course to the car park that’s doing this.

There was someone else in the car too, but I was the first to be dropped off at Avranches – much earlier than normal. But I still had to wait half an hour before I was connected and up and running. There was a lot of weight to shift today, so I reckoned that I was going to be in for four hours of agony by the end.

And I was right. One of the connections began to hurt, and then the pain in my foot started up again (and it’s still going on). And then we had this pantomime about the bed and sleeping. I was glad when the session was over.

The driver was there, already waiting, so we were able to set off quite quickly, but I was absolutely exhausted by this time. When we arrived at home, there was a really fierce wind so the driver dropped me off at the back of the building right outside the fire escape door, where my faithful cleaner was waiting for me.

She helped me inside, where I was greeted by the Hound of the Baskervilles and my friend, who had made a Chinese stir-fry with rice. And delicious it was too.

Back in here, I had things to do and then I began to write my notes. But by now, the effects of dialysis had caught up with me properly and I slowly found myself falling asleep. After several attempts to keep on going, in the end, I gave it up as a bad job and staggered off to bed. I’ll finish these notes in the morning

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about churches … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone went into a church and asked the vicar "how much does it cost to borrow a group of church singers?"
"You mean a choir?" asked the vicar.
"All right, vicar, have it your way" said the man. "How much does it cost to acquire a group of church singers?"

0

Monday 25th May 2026 – THE ALARM DIDN’T …

… go off this morning.

However, there was a reason for that. At 06:29 when the alarm should have gone off, I was at my desk working. I’d switched the alarm off because there was no point in waking up the rest of the household for no good purpose.

In fact, I’d been awake since about 04:00 and, dismal failure that I am, I couldn’t go back to sleep no matter what I tried. I just lay there watching, through the gaps in the shutters, the day slowly dawning. After a while, I thought “this is ridiculous” and heaved myself out of my stinking pit.

So it’s not very often just recently that we’ve recorded an “early start”, but here we are. If I’m too tired later on, I’ll be at dialysis, of course, so if they all let me, I can catch up with my sleep this afternoon.

I suppose that I should have caught up with it last night, but as usual, I was too busy prevaricating to be doing any good about having an early night. For a start, after I’d finished work in here, I had to go into the kitchen for the medication that I’d forgotten and then sort myself out in the bathroom. It was after 23:00 when I finally made it into bed.

For a change, it didn’t take long to go to sleep, and there I lay until about 04:00, as I mentioned earlier.

So, once I was up and about and at my desk, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my surprise, there was something on there.

I know it’s strange, but Keighan Jones, the Trefynnon goalkeeper, who was voted the best goalkeeper in Division 2 North just recently, had left Trefynnon and signed for Airbus UK Broughton and I’ve no idea why because both clubs were promoted and he’d be playing in the Premier League anyway if he had stayed, but I don’t know why he decided to leave and go to Airbus.

With this dream, it was actually rather a case of “deja vu” because he left Trefynnon to sign for Airbus a good while ago. However, being “dazed and confused” is nothing at all new around here.

Round about 07:30 or so, I heard the sound of mus … errr … movement in the kitchen so I went to join the assembled multitudes therein. And I was a couple of minutes early because the coffee wasn’t made. But when it was made, it was delicious as usual.

The nurse came along as usual, just as the Hound of the Baskervilles was dragging his master off for walkies, and they collided in the corridor. And not a yowl or bark from the aforementioned. He’s definitely become accustomed to the nurse. And it’s Isabelle the Nurse starting her week tomorrow so he should be even more happy.

The dog was quite happy too.

After the nurse left, I made breakfast and read some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT.

It seems that as far as Reculver is concerned, he carried out no excavations at all and is merely relying on second- (and in some cases, third-) hand information about the finds that have been made there. But I suspected something like this when I was reading his references to “Richard of Cirencester”.

After breakfast, I came in here and reviewed the radio programme for the forthcoming weekend. It seemed to be OK so I found a few other things to do while it took its time being sent to the radio station.

Later on, I had a really good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant later, and then my cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic. I had no idea that the time was passing so quickly. She sorted me out and then took the rubbish across to the bins. I had my disgusting drink and then made myself ready for the taxi.

By 13:00 the taxi hadn’t arrived so, seeing as it was another boiling-hot cloudless day, my friend helped me outside and we stood in the sun, and it was lovely.

The taxi turned up at 13:15 so I piled in, and then we had to go off to Sartilly for our other passenger. Consequently, it was 14:05 when we finally arrived.

As usual, I was the last in so I had to wait, and then the nurses missed their aim when trying to connect me so they had to disconnect what they had done, compress the arm for ten minutes and then start again. It was not far short of 15:00 when I was finally connected.

And this time, they forgot the cold spray so it … errr … hurt somewhat.

There was a lot to drain out today and for four hours at that rate, it was tough going. For half an hour or so, I actually managed to crash out, which was really nice, but it was, as always, at the wrong time because at that moment I had other things to do.

By the time that the session had finished and I was unplugged, compressed and weighed, it was 19:05, and so it was 19:50 when I finally arrived back.

My reception committee was waiting for me, and she helped me back into my apartment where a steaming hot curry was a-waiting. My friend seems to have worked his magic yet again and he can definitely stay as long as he likes.

When I’d finished, I put the leftovers in the freezer for another time and then did all of the washing-up. Back in here afterwards, I wrote up my notes and did everything else that needed to be done, and next I’ll be going back into the kitchen for tonight’s medication. Then I’m off to bed.

That is, if I can. I seem to have become “flavour of the month” with the Hound of the Baskervilles and, instead of being with his master, he’s now lying down, extremely relaxed, at my feet. It’s a good job that I changed my socks.

But seriously, we don’t know why he’s decided to lie down here in my room with me. I must be doing something right.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Hound of the Baskervilles … "well, one of us has" – ed … the other day, the aforementioned was leading a pack of dogs, chasing after two rabbits.
The rabbits slid down a rabbit hole, only to find that the bottom was all blocked up and there was no way out except past the baying hound and his mates.
"What do we do now?" asked the girl rabbit.
The boy rabbit thought for a while and said "I suppose we stay here until we outnumber them."

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Thursday 14th May 2026 – THE BAD NEWS …

… is that they want me to go back to doing three days per week at dialysis.

Apparently, the … errr … sample that I took in the other day is almost pure water. There is not very much in the way of waste matter in it, so they are beginning to worry again.

The good news is that tomorrow, we’re expecting the arrival of The Hound of the Baskervilles. Both my cleaner and my nurse are in eager anticipation, so I can imagine that we might end up with a brawl at some point.

As for me, there isn’t very much in the way of good news. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s been a long time since I’ve had any.

Last night went the typical way of all of the other nights just recently. I sit down fairly early to begin to write my notes, but then I seem to be sidetracked by this, that and the other and it takes an age to finish them. That was how it went last night, and by the time that I’d done everything else that needed doing and slid under the covers, it was round about 21:45.

Once again, it took a while to go off to sleep, and once again, I slept quite soundly until about 01:00 or so. Just as the previous night, there was a howling gale outside and that was what probably awoke me, but I managed to go back to sleep after a while, and there I lay until the alarm at 06:29.

For a change, I was fairly rapidly on my feet and headed into the bathroom for a wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. I was early heading into the kitchen too, where, because it’s a dialysis day, I just had a mouthful of orange juice to wash down my medication.

Back in here, the first thing that I did was to listen to the dictaphone notes to find out if I’d been anywhere during the night.

I dreamed that I was working for some kind of organisation and dealing with towns and villages. I had to go to see some town somewhere that had been referred to our association. One thing that I noticed more than anything else was the total chaos on the roads – people drove any old how with no giving way, no stopping, no anything. So I decided that I’d start some kind of campaign to regularise the matter. I went back to my office and made a start, but my boss wasn’t happy with any of this and wanted a second kind of opinion. However, it was not possible to do that because there was no day that fell on a Sunday in the near future.

This is another dream that means very little to me, particularly near the end when it seems to degenerate into the surreal. I’d love to know what’s going on with this type of dream.

There was plenty of time to do a few other things before Isabelle the Nurse arrived. She told me that the noise that awoke me at 01:00 or thereabouts was a massive hailstorm. Apparently, a supermarket car park at St-Lô looked as if it had had a heavy snowfall during the night, according to the photos in the local press this morning, so she told me.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT.

Today, he’s been discussing a few other itineraries from the Roman or early mediaeval period, such as the Ravenna Cosmography and comparing them unfavourably with the work of “Richard of Cirencester”, which, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … has long-since been denounced as a fabrication.

Back in here, I don’t know what came over me but I sat down to write out the notes for the next radio programme, and by the time that my cleaner came to apply my anaesthetic, there was just one set of notes for one song that I hadn’t completed.

It’s been absolutely ages since I’ve worked this hard, and it shows that I must be feeling somewhat better these days.

After my cleaner left, I had to wait for the taxi to take me to dialysis. The driver was a few minutes late but as there was no-one else to pick up, I was still early arriving.

And my luck was in, too. I didn’t have long to wait before I was plugged in, and I settled down to what I was hoping would be a quick session so that I could be home early.

For the most part, everyone left me alone, except for Emilie the Cute Consultant. I don’t know why it is, but whenever there is bad news to tell me, they usually always wheel her out. There’s no doubt that somewhere in the hierarchy at Avranches, there is someone who is reading my notes.

Anyway, she told me the bad news, and that led to something of a discussion. What we have agreed, albeit temporarily, is that they will keep the two sessions but increase the number of hours that I have to stay for each one. They will review the situation after four weeks and “let me know”. I can’t say any more fairly than that.

After she left, there were about forty-five minutes of this session left, and as I was feeling rather tired, I decided to have a little sleep. However, it was to no avail. You can’t believe the amount of noise that goes on in that place when the sessions begin to wind down.

Eventually, the session came to an end, but I still had to wait fifteen minutes for someone to come to disconnect me and to compress where the needles had been. The compression takes about ten minutes, and that’s a long time when you are in a hurry.

Luckily, the taxi driver was waiting for me when I came out, so we were back here just before 19:00. And you won’t believe how light I was when I left – two kilogrammes below my “athletic weight”. I suppose that it’s no wonder that people are worried about me. Since I started dialysis in October 2024, I’ve lost twelve kilogrammes.

My cleaner was waiting for me and she helped me into the apartment. She also gave me a disgusting drink to drink, so she’s obviously worried about me too.

After she left, I came back in here to write up my notes, and now, when I’ve finished everything, I’m off to bed, ready for the Hound of the Baskervilles tomorrow. And so, with having visitors, my notes will probably be rather sporadic for the next while, but eventually they will all be here. You’ll need to have a little patience.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about a little patience … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the … errr … vertically-challenged old man in the queue at the hospital.
He was ranting and raving about being kept waiting for treatment for a minor injury whilst more serious cases were being pushed ahead in the queue.
Eventually, a nurse came over to see him. "Excuse me, sir" she said. "I understand that it’s difficult to wait, but you’ll just have to be a little patient."

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Monday 11th May 2026 – GOD ALONE KNOWS …

… what happened at dialysis today, but by the time that they’d finished with me and I was ready to leave, I had a spinning head, a strange feeling in my stomach and I was feeling light on my feet. It’s not the volume of liquid that they have taken out of me, because I’ve had much more than this in the past, so I dunno.

It’s probably something related to the bad night that I had last night. I wasn’t in bed as early as I was hoping to be, which was a shame. By the time that I’d finished everything that needed finishing and crawled in underneath the covers, it was about 21:45 and, believe me, I was ready for bed.

As usual, it took an age to go off to sleep, but once I’d gone, I’d gone until all of when I needed to leave the bed to take a stroll down the corridor.

As I was passing the Fusebox on the wall, I checked the time. 01:34. That was a good night’s sleep, I have to say.

Back in here later, I crawled into bed but I just couldn’t go back to sleep again, and there I lay for almost five hours, tossing and turning, until the alarm went off at 06:29.

Eventually, I managed to summon up the courage to go into the bathroom for a wash and shave, and then in the kitchen, I washed my medication down with a mouthful of orange juice. After all, it’s dialysis day today.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

There was something about having to massage a different leg than usual. This was more swollen, maybe, than the other one. But when I went to dialysis, they began to extract the water from that leg instead of out of my left arm.

That wasn’t much good, was it? I could do with more exciting dreams than that! But this idea of “a different leg” – how many legs do you think I have? I’m not Jake the Peg.

However, dreaming about dialysis is not just scraping the bottom of the barrel, it’s going through the barrel and into the mud underneath.

The nurse turned up today as usual and chatted about not very much. He’s off on his week’s break this evening so as he left, I wished him a nice break.

Once he’d gone, I could make my breakfast and finish off the last of REPORT ON EXCAVATIONS MADE UPON THE SITE OF THE ROMAN CASTRUM AT PEVENSEY by Charles Roach Smith.

To be quite honest, this book was something of a washout. Roach Smith spends just about three or four pages discussing the excavations, and the rest is comparing the site with other Roman sites elsewhere. As for the finds, there are about three pages of coins tucked away in the appendices. I hope that the next book is more enlightening and interesting.

Back in here, there were a few things that I needed to do, and then I had to check over the radio programme that I was sending off for broadcast this weekend. Afterwards, I made a start on my Welsh homework. There’s still another week before it needs to be in but I want to press on if I can.

As usual, my faithful cleaner turned up to put the anaesthetic on my arm, and then I had to wait for the taxi. And wait, and wait and wait.

The taxi was half an hour late coming for me, but it was my favourite driver so I didn’t mind too much. We had to go to Sartily to pick up another passenger, and so we were hours late arriving at dialysis.

It was in fact 14:45 when I was finally plugged in, and so that meant another really late night arriving home.

With the two bad nights that I’ve had, I was hoping to have a good sleep this afternoon to catch up, but it wasn’t to be. There was a constant stream of visitors this afternoon, and when there wasn’t, the machine was playing up so that brought the nurses running every five minutes.

On top of that, firstly, the doctor came to see me. I had to take a “sample” to him today, so he told me that they were going to analyse it to see whether it’s the dialysis that’s “causing these problems” for me (whatever “these problems” are) and if so, they’ll “do something to help solve the problem”. I don’t like the sound of that one minute.

And then we had the dietician. Apparently, she’d been talking to Emilie the Cute Consultant and they’ve found an intravenous drip that they think might work plugged into the dialysis machine. I don’t like the sound of that either, but at least it means that I shan’t have it stuck in a vein or something.

The way things are, I’m beginning to regret ever having said anything to anyone at dialysis.

Once again, I was the last to be unplugged, but luckily the driver was waiting to take me back home. And it was another one of my favourite drivers so we had a lovely talk all the way home, mainly about cancer and suicide, would you believe? She had quite a story to tell me.

My cleaner was waiting for me when we arrived. She helped me into the apartment and sorted me out.

After she left, I came in here to write up my notes, and now I’m off to bed. Now that the coughing seems to have calmed down, it’s really annoying that there’s something else now that seems to be keeping me awake.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about different legs … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of an incident at Balmoral Castle all those years ago when a serving wench, serving Prince Philip, suddenly burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"What’s the matter, girl?" asked the Queen. "Are you feeling hysterical?"
"Och, no, ma’am. He’s feeling mine."

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Thursday 7th May 2026 – IT SEEMS TO ME …

… that no-one in the hierarchy at dialysis has the least idea of what is going on there. The nurses and assistants are all adorable and I’d bring them all home to my apartment afterwards if I could, but as for the rest …

On Monday I pointed out that, having gone in there with just a few hundred grammes to lose, they suddenly went into a huge panic, wound the machine up to three thousand five hundred, and the time to four hours.

Today, having carefully managed my intake, it was once more just a couple of hundred grammes. And then they came swarming into the room to wind it up to two thousand. An hour and a half later, they wound it back down to eighteen hundred. So what’s going on? And why all the panic?

Anyway, that was today.

Last night, I mentioned my rather strange night and the fact that I was in bed round about 20:00 or so. Out like a light straight away, there I lay until shortly after 03:00. And to my surprise, I was lying on my back and not coughing at all.
At some point, I must have gone back to sleep because I had another one of these dramatic upright awakenings that I sometimes have, and it was 05:11.

Now here’s something that will surprise you. I left the bed and went to stroll the parapet and then came back in here, sat down at the computer, and started work. I must have been feeling better.

The first thing that I did was to start to write the notes from yesterday, but I hadn’t quite finished when the alarm went off so I abandoned them for now while I went into the bathroom.

After my trip into the kitchen for my medication and mouthful of grapefruit juice, I came back in here to carry on with the notes.

When they were done and online, I turned my attention to the dictaphone notes to find out what had happened during the night.

There was a very long and complicated dream about Steve Tyler and his daughter Liv and I don’t know if I can remember all of it. He was taking part in some kind of event in the USA and there was a parallel event in the UK at the same time. While he was searching the web, he came across a blog written by a girl of about fourteen who was at the UK event, so he began to comment on her entries about the difference between what was happening there and what was happening in the UK. This correspondence went on for hours and days. And then there was something to do with his daughter Liv. She was only something like four or five. He had to go out but couldn’t find a babysitter but there was some kind of place where you could take children where they could sleep overnight. There would probably be twenty or thirty kids in this place with four or five monitors. The kids would be left there to sleep so he took her there. As Liv grew up, she was constantly being warned about her father’s bad habits, substance abuse, etc., and to be very careful about what she took that he offered her. At some point, she decided that she would leave home and go to New York, so she was on a train waiting to depart. She had some kind of irrational fear of losing her money so she was checking it every minute or two to make sure that she had it.

Steve Tyler’s problems are legendary, unfortunately, and the story of his relationship with his daughter got off to a very bad start and ended in a whole web of confusion. The story of a girl of fourteen plays some kind of role in this, but that’s another story for which the World is not yet ready to hear. Being a rock star in the late 1960s and 1970s was a minefield.

I was staying in someone’s house in a commune-type of place. It was early morning and I’d been up and about repairing the lawnmower and one or two other things, including some kind of gauge with a backlight. The woman in charge of this commune place came out and began to roar at me about not having begun to tidy up the garden and weed it. I said to her “you know, all you need to say is ‘Eric, could you weed the garden?'”. She stormed off in a foul mood saying “I shall expect a full apology”. I took the lawnmower back and found that I’d lost half of this gauge. One or two people searched and found one of the bits but not the other, so I thought “I’d look for that later”. Then I had to go to the bathroom but I didn’t feel like going into the house to the bathroom so I went out and walked down the main street. Eventually, I came to the covered market so I went in there. There was a guy sitting there behind a stall so I asked him if he knew if there was a public convenience in the building. He replied “yes”, but that wasn’t the answer that I wanted. Two young boys with him began to smile and joke so I glared at them and they cowered away. He still wouldn’t tell me so I walked away. Eventually, I found what I was looking for but they were so small and tight that it was a struggle to fit in. It had a strange kind of glass there that smoked on the outside when there was someone inside but the person inside could quite happily see what was happening outside. It was very, very strange and weird.

Back in the mid-seventies, I lived in a commune for a while. A very short while. I met some of the most selfish people I have ever met and in the end, I preferred the companionship of the spider in my van.

The nurse turned up as usual and didn’t seem to be all that interested in my day and night yesterday, so we didn’t say much.

After he left, I made breakfast and finished off THE ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY AT MONKTON by the Kent Archaeological Service. The remaining pages didn’t have much to say for themselves.

Back in here, I attacked the radio programme that I’d started yesterday. All of the music has now been traced, reformatted, remixed and re-edited and it has all been paired and segued. Tomorrow, I’ll write the notes for it.

My cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for the taxi. It was ten minutes early arriving but we had someone to drop off at Sartilly. Nevertheless, I was early arriving at dialysis, but even so, I had to wait for over an hour to be connected.

And just my luck – it was the nurse from the other day but when she saw that it was me, she made an excuse and left me to her colleague.

Then we had all of the shenanigans and I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I was trying to write out a shopping list but all of the traffic coming to my bed disrupted that. Everyone came to see me, even the dietician who now wants to put me on an intravenous drip. No chance of that.

By the end of the afternoon, I was half-expecting the trick cyclist to put in an appearance.

Late again as usual leaving, my driver was waiting so we were home quite quickly, but still horribly late.

My faithful cleaner helped me, and after she left, I came in here to write up my notes.

Now that they are done, there are just a few little things left to do and then I’ll be off to bed. I had a really good start to the day but it all seems to have gone downhill subsequently. So here’s hoping for further improvement tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Liv Tyler counting her money … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the film INSPECTOR HORNLEIGH ON HOLIDAY when Alastair Sim, hanging upside down over a roof edge, loses all of the money in his pocket.
"Oh no!" he replied. "I’ve lost two and sevenpence ha’penny!"

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Monday 20th April 2026 – WHAT A TERRIBLE …

… day this has been. Almost everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong, and there seems to be no let-up in the immediate future either.

Things started to go wrong last night when, for some reason which I know not what, it was gone 22:00 when I’d finished everything that needed finishing, and I doubt if I was actually in bed by 22:30. Not that I cared, though – I was just glad to be in it at any time.

One good thing to have happened was that I only awoke once, and for the usual reason. But I noticed that the day was dawning so I checked the time – 06:22, just seven minutes before the alarm was due to go off – so I simply climbed back into bed and waited.

Nevertheless, it still took quite a while for me to rise to my feet, and by the time I’d had a good wash and a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, I was late going into the kitchen for my medication.

No hot drink for me today, though. It’s Dialysis Day so I made do with a small mouthful of cold orange juice. I’ll beat this thing yet.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

We’d started a group with some of the former members of Genesis. This later evolved into a kind of “Son of Genesis”, with several of the younger players taking over. There was something in there about wearing silicon wristguards and having to change them with each other at the end of each performance. There was some issue about someone who didn’t wear his and it led to some kind of dispute within the group.

As for a group consisting of former Genesis members, there’s a story behind this too, but it’s another one that the World is not yet ready to hear.

As for the “Son of Genesis”, after Micky Jones of Man died, his son George and Martin Ace’s son Joshua Ace started a group called Son of Man (actually, George sent me a recording of one of their concerts, the very last live appearance of guitarist Deke Leonard, to broadcast on the radio at the appropriate moment).

Where the silicon wristguards fit in, I have no idea.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, in her usual cheerful mode, especially as she is off on her week’s rest this evening. She sorted out my legs and feet and then hopped off outside into the sun.

When she left, I was just about to start my breakfast when my faithful cleaner arrived to help me pack my bag for my appointment this morning.

After she had followed Isabelle the Nurse out of the door, I started again to make breakfast. When my porridge and coffee were cooked, I sat down to begin but I’d scarcely taken a spoonful of porridge or a mouthful of coffee when the taxi arrived.

The rendezvous was at 10:45 so I was expecting the car at about 10:00, so what the *!@@ was it doing here at 09:10?

It turned out that there was someone else to pick up, but his appointment was for 10:15 so in fact the car should have been here at about 09:30 and given me a chance to eat something.

We arrived at the hospital at 10:10, and luckily I was seen quite quickly for my thoracic scan. We were told that it would take fifteen minutes, so the taxi didn’t turn up for me until 11:00.

It dropped me off at dialysis at 11:10 for my treatment at 14:00, so I was left sitting around like Piffy on a Rock for all that time. One of the nurses came to sort out my anaesthetic, and, sweet thing, she brought me a cup of coffee.

When I was weighed, they found that there was only 200 grammes to extract, but I persuaded the nurse to wind it up to 500 grammes. And then there were all kinds of problems with the machine, all kinds of problems with one of the auxillary machines, and then all kinds of problems with the disconnection.

In between, Emilie the Cute Consultant came along, bearing even more bad news.

The examination has revealed that I have a severe infection, so severe that antibiotics are powerless, and that I probably picked it up at chemotherapy. The lung specialist wants to see me on Friday, when he wants to stick a camera down my throat.

How he’s going to do that, I don’t know. Emilie the Cute Consultant said that she’ll prescribe a relaxant. I told her to prescribe half a dozen, and a length of lead piping while she was at it. I’m beginning to wish that I’d said nothing about it now.

The taxi was waiting for me so at least I didn’t have to wait, but on weighing myself on leaving, I found that I’m exactly halfway between my ideal weight and my “sporty” weight when I was running and playing sport.

My cleaner was waiting for me when I arrived, and she helped me into the apartment. And after she left, I finally managed to eat my breakfast – at 19:30.

Now, I’m off to bed and hoping for a good sleep for my Welsh lesson tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the scanner … "well, one of us has" – ed … the nurse there told me that they’d had a great deal of difficulty with the patient before me, who couldn’t stop hiccupping.
"she apologised profusely", so she told me "but I told her that she needs to stop so that we can take the scan."
"What happened then?" I asked.
"She said she couldn’t and didn’t know why? She asked me if I had an idea."
"So what did you say?"
"I told her that she was probably pregnant."
"And was she?"
"Not at all. But it didn’t ‘arf stop her hiccups!"

0

Thursday 16th April 2026 – HOW LONG IS IT …

…. since I had a really decent sleep? Just for once, after all this time, I finally managed to have a really profound sleep and it did me the World of good.

Not that it was early, though. Making tea took much longer than I imagined, and even though I enjoyed it, I had other things to do, for which I could make better use of my time.

By the time that I’d finished writing my notes, taking the stats, backing up the computer and all of that, it was just after 22:00 when I climbed into bed. As seems to be the case these days, it took a while to go off to sleep, but once I was gone, boy, was I gone?

There was one moment when I awoke, for what seems to be the obvious reason at the moment, but I was soon back in bed and asleep almost immediately. I’ve no idea what time it was, but the electric water heater was buzzing so it was certainly after midnight when I let it all hang out.

There was another awakening later, for the same reason, and I was debating whether or not to check the time to see if it was worth getting up permanently, but I was barely back in bed, tucked up under the covers, when BILLY COTTON’S RAUCOUS RATTLE made up my mind for me.

Considering that I’d only just gone back to bed, it took an age for me to leave it again, but after I’d finally managed to sort myself out in the bathroom, including a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, I went for my medication. In the interests of my weight, I eschewed the usual 200 ml of hot drink and just washed everything down with a small mouthful of orange juice.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night, but to my dismay, I had nothing on. It must have been a really deep sleep, I reckon. So instead, I found a few other things to do.

Isabelle the Nurse came in as usual to sort me out. She was chatting away about not very much at all, and after she left, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re in the countryside discussing Roman villas, and apart from a few more “Richard of Cirencester” moments, he’s managed to steer pretty well clear of controversy. But while he was being led up the garden path by the aforementioned, we were being led through the sewers of Lincoln by the archaeologist Charles Roach Smith, who had apparently crawled through them in the past and whose notes were being quoted by our author.

Back in here, I had a few more things to do and then in a mad fit of enthusiasm, which came from I know not where, I attacked the radio programme that I’d started at the end of yesterday. And now, all of the music is reformatted, remixed, re-edited, paired and segued, and I’ve even written a few notes. I can finish the rest tomorrow.

My faithful cleaner was late today so she didn’t have much time to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi. It was quite early today and caught me in flagrante delicto with a frozen curry that I’d just taken out of the freezer in the bathroom. I just had to dump it on the worktop, hoping that it would melt quietly, rather than find a bowl for it.

The driver had never been here before, so she was parked across in the car park. Eventually she brought the car round to the entry and we could set off. We had another passenger to pick up at the Centre de Reeducation, but rather than a return to Avranches, from where he had come this morning, it was a return home, so we ended up driving around the obscure corners of Granville.

Nevertheless, at dialysis, I was somewhat early but I was still the last to arrive, so I was last to be connected, as usual.

And there were all kinds of problems there today. As far as I was concerned, they couldn’t make one of the auxillary machines work. Consequently, for about an hour and a half, I was surrounded by people trying to fix it, and I couldn’t do any work at all while they were there. And once again, I spilled some coffee onto the laptop. This time though, I was much quicker wiping it off.

Being the last to be connected, and with all of the other problems, I was last, as usual, to be unplugged. The taxi driver had been waiting a good fifteen minutes for me, so at least our departure was rapid enough, but I was still late home.

My cleaner helped me inside, and after she left, I made some rice and heated the curry that had been quietly melting on the worktop all afternoon, without leaking from its plastic bag, I’m pleased to say. It was delicious, as usual, and filling, so I once more eschewed my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream.

By now, though, it was late and I was totally whacked. I could hardly keep my eyes open. And so I just posted another terse note on my blog and went to bed. And that was that.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about problems with machines … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of one of the old Andy Capp stories from the 1960s.
They were trying to bring into a building an IBM mainframe computer but it wouldn’t fit through the door. They had a pile of people around it making suggestions, and trying their best to help, but to no avail.
Eventually, Andy Capp shouted across to them "why not plug it in and let it work it out for itself?"

0

Thursday 2nd April 2026 – YET ANOTHER HORRIBLE …

… day today, and I’m totally fed up with these.

The only highlight, I suppose, was the memory of that really nice butternut squash soup and fresh bread that I’d had the previous evening. But not even that lasted very long.

Back in here afterwards, I had my notes to write and a few others of the usual things to do, and I was actually in bed by 23:00, and asleep shortly afterwards.

But again, not for very long. Round about 02:30 I awoke, and then we had a desperate battle to go back to sleep again. I actually didn’t think that I did because I was still awake when the alarm went off at 06:29.

It was another desperate battle to rise to my feet and head off into the bathroom for a good wash and shave, and then into the kitchen for my hot lemon, honey and ginger drink that I take with my medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my surprise, I had actually been out and about. And one of the time stamps tells me that I must have gone back to sleep at one point.

There was something last night about some kind of change of history exercises. There were several people involved in this, and the aim was to rewrite the history of certain events if alternative situations had taken place. For some reason, it turned out that it was to do with maths rather than actual history and it involved reworking certain maths questions. There was one girl who was rather slow doing the work but she seemed to have it all correct in the end. One thing was that there were no adults who managed to make it correct.

This is another one of those dreams that seems to relate to nothing at all.

There was also something about splitting the Catholic Church into two. Someone was keen to do this but for some reason, he put the western border down between France and Germany and France and Italy so that Rome ended up in the eastern part of it, which was a most unusual situation, but I can’t remember the rest of this now.

We did, in the early Medieval times, have Christianity split into two, the Catholic Church centred on Rome and the Eastern Orthodox Church centred on Constantinople. Although Constantinople has long gone, the Eastern Orthodox Church still carries on, mainly in the Balkans and in Russia. But I can imagine the outcry if someone decided to include Rome and Italy in the Eastern Orthodox Church.

When the alarm went off, there was something about a memory, and certain memory tests that were being taken but everything evaporated the moment the alarm went off and I can’t remember any more.

So obviously, I must have been asleep when the alarm went off, despite what I was thinking.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, in her “chat mode” and we had a little discussion about nothing very much at all. After she left, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE ROMAN FORT AT BALMUILDY on the Antonine Wall, written by Stewart Napier Miller.

The Antonine Wall was only occupied for about twenty or so years, yet already Miller has uncovered two different periods of major destruction of parts of the fort. I’m not sure as yet what his conclusions will be, but it does seem to indicate that things were rather warm on the northern border.

Back in here, I had things to do, and then I edited two lots of additional notes for the joining tracks of two radio programmes. So now, those programmes are complete and ready to go at some point in the future. There was even time for a little “relax”.

However, I awoke in time for my cleaner to apply my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for my taxi, which was fifteen minutes late.

My arrival at dialysis seemed to be fortunate because at that moment, there was a gap in the patients arriving, so I was seen to quite quickly. But to my horror, I seemed to have put on three litres of fluid to be removed – the highest for ages.

This is something that I don’t understand. I’m controlling my liquid intake very closely and my visits to the … errr … smallest room have if anything been more frequent of late. So what’s going on? The doctors were so concerned that they instructed the nurse to set the machine at two litres and remove the rest the next time. That is, if there isn’t another ridiculous weight gain.

And because of that, there were constant interruptions, checking my blood pressure every fifteen minutes, and I couldn’t even go to sleep as the nurses would shake me awake, for fear that I’d gone into a fainting fit. All in all, it was a horrible session there today.

The taxi was waiting for me and there wasn’t much traffic on the roads so we had a quick drive home, where my faithful cleaner was waiting to help me into the apartment.

But by now, I was totally exhausted. I warmed up the rest of the butternut squash soup and sat down to eat it, but after five minutes, well over half of it went into the bin, followed by the bread, and I came in here.

All that I did was to type out a terse note on the blog and then I crawled into bed, fully clothed. It was just 20:20.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about The Antonine Wall … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was telling a friend that it reminded me of that well-known Biblical ice-cream company.
"Which one was that?" she asked
"Walls of Jericho" I replied.

0

Thursday 12th March 2026 – TONIGHT’S TEA …

… wasn’t as nice as some have been just recently. And I’ve no idea why that might be, because it’s a tea to which I’ve been looking forward for over a week.

Something else to which I’ve been looking forward since Monday morning was a good night’s sleep, but one again, I was thwarted in my ambitions.

Last night’s tea, nice as it was, took so long to prepare, eat and clean up that I ended up running hours late. In fact, I didn’t go to bed until about 23:45 and I need much more beauty sleep than that, especially as I’d been awake so early in the morning.

To go from bad to worse, it was another turbulent night and I felt as if I hadn’t gone to sleep at all. When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was dead to the World and it took me an age to summon up the energy and the courage to head for the bathroom.

Even though Emilie the Cute Consultant doesn’t love me any more, I still had a shave. I might as well go through the motions, even if I don’t feel like it and they are of no earthly purpose.

In the kitchen, I made my hot lemon, ginger and honey drink to go with my medication and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what had gone on during the night. And that was a disappointment too.

It was round about 03:30 when I definitely heard someone shout “aren’t you getting up yet?”. I wondered what time it was, and looked at the clock. It was 03:30 so I don’t know who it was who had awoken me.

When I looked at the timestamp of the soundfile, it showed 03:31, so this dream obviously had some basis in fact somewhere. But that’s a few times now when I’ve either heard a phantom alarm or heard someone shout out during a dream.

There was also something about the bandage and plasters after dialysis but I can’t remember too much about that. In fact, I can’t remember anything really other than the bandage and the plasters.

And this kind of dream makes me wish that there was much more to it than that which I recorded. Or else, it’s my subconscious stopping me from going too far into “what happened next”.

The nurse came along to sort out my legs and feet, and today he remembered to put the things back into the drawer and to close it. I’m glad about that because I shall rapidly lose patience if he doesn’t tidy up after himself. It’s bad enough that I don’t.

After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re reviewing the position in the Ionian Islands. At the moment, the Venetians are clinging on to a precarious foothold as the Ottomans slowly surround them and hem them in. We’ve already had a few important raids, and I suspect that there are many more to come.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I turned my attention to the radio programme that I started yesterday. All of the music is now paired and segued, and quite a lot of the notes have been written. I can finish this off tomorrow morning, provided that my visitor doesn’t come too early.

My faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for my taxi to arrive.

And I was in luck. It was my favourite taxi driver and we had a lovely chat all the way down the coast to Carolles to pick up someone else and then another drive down the coast to Avranches.

Once again, I was early. It was 13:40 when I arrived, but it made no difference because I wasn’t connected up until 14:50. And then, they set the dry weight to what it had been two weeks ago and so there was almost nothing to take out. And they forgot the booster for the blood pressure. I don’t know what’s the matter with them these days.

But once I was connected, they left me pretty much alone. Even Emilie the Cute Consultant, who was the duty doctor today, kept to the far end of the room, well away from my clutches.

At least they didn’t hang around too long to unplug me, but it was still 18:50 when I climbed into the taxi to come home.

When I arrived here, I had to be dropped off at the rear of the building as there was a howling gale blowing up outside. My faithful cleaner helped me in, and believe me, I was glad to be home.

Tea tonight was a vegan burger with pasta and ratatouille, which I didn’t enjoy as much as I thought it might. The birthday cake and home-made ice cream were nice, though, but tomorrow will see the last slice of that disappear.

And right now, I’m going to disappear too because I’m off to bed. And to sleep, if the stabbing pain all down my foot will let me. Right now, it’s the worst that I’ve ever known.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my strange dream … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of an old Tommy Cooper story.
"I once knew a man who dreamed that he was awake" he said.
"And what happened?" asked someone in the audience
"Well, when he woke up, he was!"

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Monday 9th March 2026 – WHATEVER COULD HAVE …

… gone wrong at dialysis today did in fact go wrong. And in spades too! I tell you, I’m totally fed up with all of this, and for two pins, I’d pack it all in and do something else with my time than keep on putting up with it.

In fact, things started to go wrong last night when I fell asleep … errr … riding the porcelain horse before going to bed. As if I don’t have enough trouble trying to be in bed at some reasonable time, last night ended up being completely unreasonable.

As seems to be the case these days, I was asleep quite quickly. However, at some point in the morning before the alarm went off, I awoke. I’ve no idea what time it must have been, because regardless, I had absolutely no intention of leaving the bed at that moment. Not even the combined efforts of Kate Bush and Jenny Agutter could have tempted me out of bed this morning.

In fact, I must have gone back to sleep at some point because the alarm at 06:29 awoke me from my slumbers. And once again, we had a real struggle to rise from our comfy bed and face the World.

After a good wash and shave (not that there’s much point in the latter these days seeing as Emilie the Cute Consultant is keeping her distance), I headed off into the kitchen for my morning hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had gone on during the night.

I was driving somewhere down the Devon and Cornwall peninsula on the coast. As I came round a corner, I could see, way out to sea, three enormous freighters or passenger liners heading out towards the Atlantic. I decided to chase them for a minute and look for a car park somewhere where I could take some photos of them. The first car park that I found, the view wasn’t particularly good. I had to climb up onto a rather large rock where the view was slightly better, but I still couldn’t take a really good photo of these ships – or not as good as I might have had from the vehicle a few miles back. Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me saying “it’s Mr Hall, isn’t it?”. I turned round, and there were two people whom I knew from university. They came over for a chat, and I fell off this rock, but I managed in the end to pick myself up. It turns out that they were staying in the hotel that was behind me. They were telling me about a whole series of new rules at university that basically cut down a lot of the jokes and a lot of the fun that we used to have there. I told them about the ships, and they said that there was a really good viewpoint inside the hotel, so I followed them in. We were talking about luggage labels – how it seems that if you go to an airport and you already have a luggage label on your suitcase, every other airport to which you go for the rest of your life with that suitcase, the suitcase will have a label from the landing crew, but it wouldn’t necessarily have a label if there wasn’t one in the first place. We were talking about good ways to dispose of a body, which was to put it into a suitcase and send it off on a flight somewhere. We went in, but I couldn’t find a way in to this viewpoint. It was one of these traditional hotels with lots of people walking around and very small rooms, but they showed me the way in, which I hadn’t realised was an access, which was through a staff door, and then you could open another set of doors once inside there, and there was a hidden corridor that went all the way down alongside the rooms. I was thinking that if I go down there, at long last I may have a photo of these ships, and that was what I was hoping for in the beginning.

The last time that I was driving down there was back in the 1980s when I took a coach tour that way, but I can’t remember seeing any ships.

The hotel reminds me of where we used to stay when we went to the university for meetings, and the idea that they would change all of the rules to stop people having fun is about par from the course. Even STRAWBERRY MOOSE ended up being expelled after he taunted a British government minister.

The thing about luggage labels seems to have come out of nowhere, though.

There was also something about a Dutch rock musician who had died. He had this Gibson SG guitar, but there was some kind of issue with it, but that’s really all that I remember of that particular dream.

As this dream didn’t really end, I can’t really say anything about this.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, with a big cheesy grin on her face as it’s her last day before her week’s rest. She even had time for a little chat before leaving to finish off her round.

Once she’d gone, I could make breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re discussing the Frankish Duke of Athens and his successors. The first Duke seems to have been able to build up a prosperous territory out of the ruins of the conquest, but as usual, it seems that his heirs went about and managed to undo everything that he had created.

Back in here, I had a radio programme to review and then to send off ready for broadcast this weekend, and after a few more tasks that needed attention, I spent the rest of the morning revising my Welsh ready for tomorrow and checking over the homework that I then sent off for marking.

At 12:00, I knocked off and went to sort myself out for dialysis. my faithful cleaner turned up as usual to sort out the anaesthetic and we discussed my idea of moving all of the medication – to such an extent that I forgot my disgusting drink before leaving.

The taxi turned up early for me, and we had to go off to Sartilly to pick up another passenger. We arrived at dialysis early, 13:40 to be precise, and I staggered off to my bed and waited to be seen.

And waited … and waited … and waited …

Sometimes I find it difficult to understand what goes through the head of the planning department at the dialysis centre. Who in their right minds would put two trainee nurses in a room of eight patients without the guiding hand of someone more experienced?

It was 14:50 when I was finally plugged in, in total agony with one of the pins. And I wasn’t the only one who suffered this afternoon either. And at least I was left pretty much alone after that.

The doctor came to see me and asked if he could do anything for me. "How about making me better?" I asked. He didn’t stay long after that.

As I mentioned the other day, they have decreased my dry weight and are taking out the excess water bit by bit. At least, that was the plan. But today, they took out a whopping 2,000 grammes. I’m not sure if that’s all of it, but I’m now down to below my ideal non-active weight. Since I’ve been having dialysis, I’ve lost 8,000 grammes in total, but much of that is down to not eating so much.

When my session of three and a half hours was over, I waited to be unplugged. And waited … and waited … and waited, while the two nurses cleaned up the empty machines from the other people who had left.

Eventually, one of them wandered over. "Has it finished already?" she asked.

"Yes, and for quite a while too" I replied.

"But surely … ohhh! It’s only three and a half hours, not four!" and she carried on cleaning the other machines.

Eventually, I was unplugged, and as I was preparing to leave, she suddenly remembered that she should have taken a blood sample. So here we go again.

It was 19:00 when I was finally ready to leave and 19:10 when the taxi arrived. “That’s what time it was booked for” said the driver, and I could believe him.

Consequently, it was 19:50 when I returned home, having left at 12:50 for a session of three and a half hours. And I bet that the senior doctor, who follows these pages and tries to pull me up if I say anything bad about the service, will have “missed” this entry and nothing will happen about it. But it’s really getting on my nerves.

Tea tonight was the rest of last night’s pizza with birthday cake and home-made ice cream for pudding. And now I’m off to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about ships … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends told me that in the High Arctic, they once encountered a ghost ship.
"How did you know that it was a ghost ship?" I asked
"There was only a skeleton crew on board"

0

Thursday 5th March 2026 – HOW LONG IS IT …

… since I first told them at dialysis that I’d cut down dramatically on the food that I ate?

It all started after a couple of sessions of chemotherapy when all of the food began to taste of nothing but salt, so let’s say “August 2025”.

Anyway, as usual, no-one took any notice of anything that I had to say, and so little by little, the quantity of liquid to be extracted from my body has diminished and diminished. Today, for example, it was just 200 grammes – a far cry from twelve months ago when they were extracting well over 2,000 grammes at each session.

But today, we have finally had a reaction. When the figure of just 200 grammes came up, they fetched the electricity resistance meter to measure the water in my body, and they came up with a staggering 3,800 grammes. In other words, since they last used the meter on me, and I really can’t remember when it was, I’ve lost 3,600 grammes in weight.

What they have been doing is calculating the liquids to be removed based on the previous “dry weight”.

If you had asked maybe a year ago, losing 3,800 grammes of water in a dialysis session would have been OK, but not having had that much to remove for quite a while, my body wouldn’t withstand the shock all at once. And so they are going to remove an extra 1,000 grammes per session until I catch up with where I ought to be.

But what a performance! No wonder I’ve been feeling so tired just recently.

Anyway, I digress … "again" – ed …

Last night, I managed to be in bed before 23:30. But only just, as it was 23:15 when I finally crawled under the covers. Not as early as I would have liked, because I’m trying to be in bed before 22:30 to give me eight hours’ sleep, but most of the time, that proves to be an unrealistic target.

So once in bed, it didn’t take long to go off to sleep, and while I remember waking up a couple of times, I was soon back to sleep again. And there I stayed until the alarm went off at 06:29.

Eventually, I managed to stagger off to the bathroom where I had a good scrub-up and a shave – I’m not sure why because Emilie the Cute Consultant doesn’t love me any more – and then I went off for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

We were living in some kind of house with people of every nationality in it. My room was just across from where the Russians were. Every time that I went out, I had to take my crutches from against the wall and they used to bang on the latch of the Russian door. I’m sure that they were annoyed by it, but this was happening every time. We’d been using our rooms as kinds of sales places for selling our national products. Books were one of the most important things and I’d been having book fairs in my room, but on this particular occasion, I picked up my crutches and they banged on the latch of this door, and someone came to the door to see what was happening. It wasn’t anyone from the Russians but it was a friend of mine from the UK. I went in and apologised, but I could see that the Russians were in one part of the room and someone else, much younger, was trying to sell a book to an ordinary person. It seemed that there had been an evolution in how trading was taking place for books and I hadn’t noticed. Then, they began to talk about this other book, and the person, or the victim, I suppose, couldn’t seem to find it so I pointed it out to him. It was above his head on a shelf, but it took him a good few minutes to realise that. There was also something else about other people there who were needing some kind of help when it came to buying and selling books. They were sitting more like passengers in a motorcycle combination, which was at the side of everything rather than behind it.

This is another dream that seems to have come out of nowhere at all. There’s nothing in this dream that seems to relate to anything that I’ve been doing or thinking just recently.

Having said that, though, I did spend about ten minutes last night trying to remember some of the Russian that I used to know and practising a few of the words that I used to know.

Isabelle the nurse was very late arriving today, so I had made a start on the next radio programme while I was waiting. And when she finally did turn up, she was in such a rush that she couldn’t hang around and was soon gone.

That enabled me to make my breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

The Frankish Crusaders have now arrived in Greece and are busily dividing up the country between the leaders of the Crusade, creating small duchies that alienated the local population and led the locals to make some rather strange alliances in order to try to drive the Franks out – something that created a period of disorder for a couple of centuries.

Back in here, I carried on choosing the music for the next radio programme. Some of it took some finding too, but it’s now all collected, remixed, reformatted, re-edited, paired and segued, and the notes started. Where has all this energy come from?

My cleaner turned up as usual to apply the anaesthetic to my arm, and then the taxi turned up, early again. Mind you, there were two other people to pick up on the way, so we weren’t any earlier arriving.

And I was really impressed by the number of flowers that have appeared by the roadside these last few days. It’s all looking impressively beautiful out there now.

At the dialysis session, we had the pantomime, as I mentioned earlier, and then I was left pretty much alone to complete my shopping list.

There was, as usual, a delay in unplugging me from the machine, and by the time that the nurse had finished compressing my arm, the taxi driver was here. He wasn’t particularly chatty, so we had something of a silent voyage home.

And isn’t it nice to be back home in the daylight?

My cleaner was waiting for me and she helped me into the apartment.

Tea tonight was going to be a vegetable korma out of the freezer, but while I was rummaging around in the freezer, I came across an aubergine and kidney-bean whatsit dated, would you believe, November 2023. I decided to eat that before it walked out of the freezer on its own

So right now, I’m off to bed, ready for a good radioing morning tomorrow. I have my shopping list to send off and a pile of washing to do. I hope that I remember to do them all.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the stuff in my freezer … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends once said that she had problems taking something out of her freezer.
"Why was that?" I asked
"Because every time I opened the freezer door, something in there reached out and closed it again"

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