Tag Archives: nurse stroked my arm

Monday 20th July 2026 – NOT ANOTHER MARATHON …

… session at the dialysis centre, surely. The maximum rate of extraction for me is 950 millilitres per hour and they had it running today at 934. This dialysis is beginning to look like an extreme sport.

Going to bed is becoming an extreme sport too these days. Try as I might, I can’t seem to go to bed at anything like a reasonable time. Even last night, it was still getting on for 23:30 when I finally went to bed.

That’s not all either. I had another turbulent night that ended at 02:30 when I awoke. From then on, it was another one of these “drifting in and out of sleep” nights;

When the alarm rang, we had the usual struggle to drag me to my feet but eventually I managed to drag myself into the bathroom to sort myself out, including a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

Back in here afterwards, I turned my attention to the dictaphone to find out what had been going on during the night.

I was in bed when I dreamed that a girlfriend’s mother came by and started to give me food. But one of the pieces of food went down my windpipe instead of my throat, and I awoke with one of these incredible coughing fits that I haven’t had for a while as if I had something stuck in my throat.

This dream is self-explanatory, and it’s really sad news to see that this cough is slowly coming back to haunt me.

There is also “something” going on right now involving a former girlfriend’s mother, and who knows? You might get to hear about it if you’re patient, because it won’t be any time soon.

We were at a big university and there was a lot going on there. The first thing was that one of the girls whom we vaguely knew ended up being the girlfriend of a friend. He used to spend most of his time in her room so we went up once and had a crafty listen at the door. And we weren’t wrong! We noticed on the door was this girl’s name and her boyfriend’s name, with a couple of boyfriends’ names crossed out – they had obviously once been going out with her. My two friends wanted to creep away but I wanted to write “congratulations” on a piece of paper and push it under the door to surprise them. But in the end, I left, and we carried these spear things that we had. We carried them down the stairs with us. Then, there was a drought and things were struggling. We knew that the Japanese students were able to conjure up water so we thought that we’d capture a couple, so I went to try to capture one of these Japanese people, but in the end my friends talked me out of it. At the same time, someone decided that he was going to play a game. He was going to be let loose and roam around this tower block and everyone else would have to try to capture him. We were doing something like this with dice and counters in a game called “The Met”, like you have with the Metropolitan Police, but this was real life so we started off on the hunt. Eventually, I could tell roughly which room he was in, so we went again down the corridor and listened at the door until we were chased away by some Japanese soldiers. I had a plan then that they would be guarding that corridor and they’d be guarding the uphill approach to there, so I got into the lift and went to the floor above. There were different people waiting to get into the lift, and in the end, my two friends joined me, and we managed to keep everyone else out. So we walked down to the end of this corridor and climbed over the safety rail and walked down the fire escape until we were near the door which would lead into the hostel there on that floor. But there were two students standing guard on the window there to that room so we had to think of a way to break in because these students were thin and maybe malnourished. Anyway, we arrived there at this window, and there were two people sitting there on the window and they were pushing everyone away, including us, even though we’d come from a different direction. In the end, we had a maths challenge where the three of us were given a hundred questions and we had to see how many we could do and how many of them would be correct.

What a strange dream this was! It’s not the first time that I’ve invented a new game during my sleep. I ought to patent and market them. But for this game here, I can already imagine the entries on several squares –
1 – insult a colleague of ethnic minority
2 – kick a peaceful protester in the groin
3 – interview a witness so thoroughly that he has to spend the next five weeks in hospital

The two friends in this dream are unknown to me but the other guy and the girl involved are people whom I know and recognise from fifty-five years ago. The building, too, is also one that has featured quite regularly in my life during my waking hours thirty-five to forty years ago.

Apart from all of that, this is another dream that would be quite interesting to explore further, although not necessarily the maths test and the Japanese people. I’m not sure why they are there.

The nurse was really early again today but he didn’t stay long. He seemed to be in quite a hurry and didn’t have much to say. Once he’d left, I could make my breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’ve left early mediaeval France and are now discussing “The Romanesque Of Northern France And England, Or Norman Style”.

We’re not even ten lines into the chapter when he comments that "it will be allowable to dwell with greater minuteness upon the architecture of so splendid a period, when if art had not reached the same zenith of perfection as in the palmy days of Gothic skill, yet the number, vastness, and magnificence of its works attest alike the bounty of founders and the genius of architects.".

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that only ten days ago, he was heaping abuse on Roman architecture "on the ground of mere vastness and magnificence" and lack of artistic effort.

However, the reasons for his dramatic change of opinion when it comes to the architecture of Northern France and England soon become clear. "Majestic and awful, rather than beautiful, no style is more truly religious, more imbued with the spirit and position of the Church in its own day, the day when St. Anselm braved spoliation and banishment, and St. Thomas sealed his witness with his blood."

Back in here, there was, as usual, plenty do but it ended up being more than that because, at about 10:15, I fell asleep and didn’t awaken until 11:10. That was a waste of an hour.

At 12:00 (I’ve set an alarm on dialysis day now so that I don’t oversleep), I headed off into the living room to prepare my things. My cleaner turned up ready to apply the anaesthetic but when she took the plasters off from Saturday, one of the punctures began to bleed, so that delayed us for a while.

While she was here, I also showed her how I had repaired the drawer yesterday. And while I was demonstrating, another one fell apart so we’ll fix that when I come back.

The taxi was ten minutes early today, which is good news. The earlier I arrive, the earlier I can depart. We had to go to Sartilly to pick up my usual travelling companion, but even so, it was just a handful of seconds after 13:30 when we arrived.

As I said earlier, there’s another mammoth load of water to remove from me today, as I discovered when I weighed myself, so I wasn’t looking forward to this session. I was in a small ward with just one other person today, but the nurse in charge was one who seems to have something of an attachment to me and she even stroked my arm several times.

She explained which of the blood pressure readings were important and which weren’t, so if the alarm rang for an unimportant reading, she showed me how to cancel it. That meant that I could pretty much be left in peace.

One of the doctors came round and asked me how things were, so I told him about the cough and the pain in my foot. “We’ll see how it develops” was his response. That’s helpful.

When I was unplugged, I had to wait for the taxi but even so, I was still back here for 18:20. My faithful cleaner was there to help me in, and then we set about repairing the drawer that had collapsed at lunchtime. This time, though, it wasn’t as easy as the others that I repaired, but once we resorted to the use of a hammer, it seemed to go together acceptably.

After my cleaner left, I made a quick tea – a plate of pasta and veg tossed in olive oil, freshly ground black pepper and grated vegan cheese. And it was just as delicious as always.

After I’d washed up, I came back in here to write up my notes, but no sooner had I started than a huge wave of fatigue overwhelmed me. To my extreme disappointment … "and to yours too, I imagine" – ed … there was no other solution but to go to bed, and my notes can take care of themselves in the morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the police … "well, one of us has" – ed … one day a policeman turned up at our front door and spoke to Nerina.
He showed her a photo and asked her "is this your husband?"
"Yes it is" she replied.
The policeman continued "I’m afraid that it looks as if he’s been hit by a lorry"
"I know" she replied. "His personality is not up to much either."

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Thursday 5th February 2026 – FOR THE FIRST …

… time since I don’t know when, I was actually feeling hungry this afternoon. So much so that I had a decent meal for tea tonight and still felt as if I could eat some more.

One swallow doesn’t make a summer, of course, but I’ll be interested to see if this return of my appetite keeps on going. We’ll probably find out at teatime tomorrow evening when sausage, chips and baked beans with cheese will be on the menu.

There wasn’t a hint of this last night. I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but last night’s tea was just a handful of crackers with cheese spread followed by a few biscuits. I wasn’t in the mood at all.

Nevertheless, I was still hours late going to bed. It was round about 23:30 when I finally crawled underneath the covers. And there I lay without moving until about … errr … 02:05. After that, it was a very fitful night, lying awake, dozing off, dropping off to sleep, waking up again. At one point, I was convinced that the alarm had gone off and made ready to leave the bed, but it was only 04:20.

When the alarm finally did go off, I was actually awake, although you wouldn’t have thought so. It was another long, desperate struggle to rise to my feet and head off into the bathroom. A good wash and a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, and then I went off into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, the first thing that I did was to transcribe the dictaphone notes from the previous day. And now, they are online and raring to go. I didn’t have much time to do those from last night because Isabelle the Nurse appeared. She sorted out my legs and feet and then headed off on her rounds.

Mind you, she did confirm a piece of news that I’d heard at the cardiologist’s yesterday, and that is that my cardiologist will be heading off to pastures new fairly shortly. That will mean that there’s no cardiologist between Caen and Rennes unless someone takes over his office.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of Mortimer Wheeler’s MAIDEN CASTLE . And at page seventy-nine, we finally reach the end of this meandering, rambling preamble. He’s now starting to examine the different layers in the ditches and the pits on the site to try to identify the times of the different periods of occupation.

Back in here, I finished off transcribing last night’s dictaphone notes.

During a dream last night, my aunt had been murdered by her husband. He’d been taken away and his children practically left on their own. There was some issue about the food that the children were eating. They had been eating practically anything without any organisation and were having all kinds of illnesses because of the diet and not eating the necessary products, minerals, vitamins etc. My eldest sister said something that she couldn’t understand why the kids didn’t eat more healthy food etc. I told her that she’s a girl, she’s done cookery and home economics, things like that, and the chances are that my aunt’s children haven’t done anything like that at all. From there, the discussion turned round to some kind of film where there had been some young girls who had been responsible for providing meals etc. There was a girl starring in this film, but they did a flashback to some time in the past where the girl playing that rôle was her sister. This ended up with the kids cooking some chips, adding a little salt to one portion, and in the next room, they added rather a lot more salt to the portion that they made in there. The funny thing is that I awoke at that moment and thought that the chips were real because I could smell them. I was going to look for them as soon as I awoke and probably eat them.

My aunt (my father’s sister) committed suicide thirty-odd years ago and her husband, from whom she was divorced, died of cancer, leaving the whole tribe of cousins orphaned, some of them still quite young. And it’s true that, coming from a rural agricultural background, they didn’t have the same opportunities that we had. Although I never did see eye-to-eye with my parents and was glad to leave home and never go back, I won’t ever deny that my mother fought for us to have a decent education, and we could all read and write long before we started school.

But those chips – I can still smell them now even though it was in a dream, and they did smell delicious.

We were in Colditz prison and two prisoners had made an attempt to escape, but they had been intercepted. One of them had been captured but the other two had put up a fight and were both injured. Somehow, the one who had been captured managed to break free and he ran. He managed to pick up this other prisoner and they both jumped down, holding on, shot down this chute and disappeared. There was a huge hue and cry about all of this. Several other prisoners took the opportunity to go to ground, that is, hiding within the prison so that the prison officers would think that they’d escaped. From there, they could work on tunnels and things without being missed during roll calls. They managed to barricade themselves into an old assembly hall. From there, they were living and organising things to do that needed doing that the others couldn’t do. It came fairly close to the time for them to escape, but they had been discovered by one of the prison officers. He’d taken two of the prisoners to his commandant who told him to take them to the General overseeing the region, so he took them on the train. The General overseeing the region was extremely unhappy with this prison officer because of the fact that these prisoners had been missing for ages. He prepared a document ordering him to be transferred from the prison service to the Eastern Front, which broke the heart of this officer when he was talking to the prisoners of everything that he’d planned to do. The prisoners quite simply took the order which the General hadn’t stamped – he’d signed it but not stamped – and said that only the prisoners knew about this document now, and there’s no reason why the General should want to know anything further about it. The prisoners would basically keep quiet about the document if the officer would. They went back to the prison, and the officers went to hide in this ice rink again – this hall place again – and the officer went back to his work. Now, the prisoners had a hold over this officer with this document. It became time, almost time to leave. One of the prisoners said that he wasn’t going to bother watering his plants because he wouldn’t be back. I decided that I’d water all mine, so I took the bucket. But one of my friends from Canada was there, and he insisted on having the bucket first to water some of his. After a big argument, I let him take it. Then he brought it back and I had a race against time then to fill the bucket with water, run to my plants and water them, come back and keep on going. The tap wasn’t very fast, but someone showed me a faster one. I was running back and to, watering my plants.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that WE WENT TO COLDITZ CASTLE back in May 2015 and had a good wander around.

It is actually true that in several prison camps in World War II, some prisoners would “go to ground” within the prison, and for a variety of reasons too. Firstly, the Germans would spend thousands of fruitless man-hours searching the surrounding countryside and that would keep soldiers away from the battle zones.

Secondly, they could spend their time digging tunnels and forging documents without the risk of being interrupted for a snap roll-call or barracks search.

The usual procedure was to look for two prisoners who looked alike. One would “go to ground”, and then they would swap over occasionally to allow the grounded one to have some fresh air and sunlight.

There were also many, many cases of the prison officers and the prisoners collaborating with each other against the Army High Command and the Gestapo.

The part about plants is interesting. It reminds me of the late 1970s when everyone had a house that, inside, looked like a Vietnamese rainforest with all the tropical plants. And where did my Canadian friend come from?

We were in London last night. It wasn’t the London modern but the London of two thousand years ago AD. The Romans had captured the leader of the British Army and he was crying on the British Army to restrain, but they were determined to go ahead to rescue him. They built about four platforms about a mile inland from the river to which they could shoot over the walls. They had their batter away through the stand-up album period but at the end they were still trying to persuade this guy to come down from his turret. In the end they launched a whole barrage of sweet presents at the prisoner and forced him to come down, where he was captured … fell asleep here …

This, of course, is pretty meaningless and it’s no surprise that I fell asleep in the middle of it. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’m actually asleep when I’m dictating. So when I say that “I fell asleep”, what I mean is that there’s a silence and then you can hear my deep breathing.

The rest of the morning was spent writing the radio notes that I should have done yesterday, and they are now almost finished.

My faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic and then we had a good chat for a while.

The taxi was early today and the driver was Speedy Gonzales. It was a wild ride down to Champeaux to pick up my fellow passenger and we arrived at the dialysis centre half an hour early.

And this is where it all went wrong.

Today, I was in a room with eight beds, manned … "PERSONned" – ed … by just one trained nurse and two new starters. Consequently, everything went at a snail’s pace. The new starter who eventually dealt with me missed her aim with the second and they had to fetch the electrograph to check and to identify the correct location. So she had to take the needle out and reinsert a fresh one elsewhere in my forearm.

Not that I’m complaining, though. I ended up being surrounded by a bunch of my favourite nurses and one of them couldn’t resist a stroke of my shoulder. If that’s the reward for the new starter missing her aim, she can miss her aim every session and I won’t say a word.

After that, they left me pretty much alone to fill out my shopping list. But the doctor on duty clearly doesn’t love me any more. She came into the room, saw most of the people, but didn’t come to see me. And when she wanted something, she sent a nurse on an errand to ask me instead of coming herself

When they finally unplugged me and threw me out, the taxi driver was waiting. And although he didn’t say a single word to me and the other passenger all the way home, he drove just like the one who had brought me and we were home in no time.

My faithful cleaner helped me indoors through the rainstorm and we continued our chat from lunchtime. In the end, we had quite a laugh as she told me a story that I couldn’t possibly repeat on these pages without causing offence

After she left, I made tea. My friend in Munich told me the other day about a vegetable curry with mashed potatoes that he had made for tea, and so I decided to make one. Sprouts, cauliflower, carrots, peas, broccoli out of the freezer in a home-made curry sauce with soya yoghurt, and plenty of bulghour and quinoa for protein, all with potatoes mashed in vegan butter and soya milk. It was delicious, and I could eat it again.

It was followed by the last of those apricots with mango sorbet, and I could eat that again too.

So having finished my notes, I’ll be off to bed as soon as THE BOY WHO WOULDN’T HOE CORN finishes.

But before we go, seeing as we have been talking about causing offence … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of someone in Crewe who was in Court charged with causing criminal damage to someone’s garden.
"First offence?" asked the judge.
"Oh no" replied the prosecuting counsel. "First he did a gate and then a greenhouse. A fence was third."

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Saturday 28th June 2025 – I WAS RIGHT …

… about this weight gain thing on Thursday.

The doctor seemed to think that there was something dramatically wrong with my metabolism that had caused the weight gain, and wanted me to come in early today for a four-and-a-half hour session to try to bring it under control.

On the other hand, I don’t know what she was expecting, but if you have 2 litres of chemotherapy fluid pumped into you, then your weight will naturally increase, but nature will take care of that over time. That was my opinion.

Anyway, what do I know about it all? I’m just a mere patient, so I bowed to her superior wisdom. I didn’t have any choice.

But anyway, last night, what with one thing and another, and once you make a start you have no idea how many other things there are, it was almost 01:00 when I finally made it into bed. It was not a very successful night either, because I spent much of what there was, tossing and turning about trying to make myself comfortable

Round about 05:42 I gave up the struggle to go back to sleep. There was this disgusting taste in my mouth (it’s still there by the way) and, as usual, I was feeling quite dreadful. It took about ten minutes to rise to my feet and had I had my way, it would have taken a lot longer.

The first thing to do was to transcribe the dictaphone notes from last night. I was back in Paris last night, preparing myself for another session of dialysis at the hospital. Fortunately the dream didn’t last long because I managed to awaken quite quickly but it really would have been my nightmare, I suppose if it had gone very further but luckily I awoke before the dream had progressed very much into it

Then I was preparing to go to dialysis again. I had organised my session for 12:00 so the taxi came and picked me up to run me down to the centre. There, sitting in the trees was a parrot that was clutching one of my large peppers. I thought to myself that I’d hoped that I’d ordered some peppers from the supermarket this week so that I’d still have some for next week

Finally, I was back in dialysis yet again. They were going to couple me up to the machine. My body weight was quite light there but they had this huge, heavy ball of things. I had a feel of it and it was really heavy and they told me that this was the amount of water that they had to take out of me today. It was enormous. Once again it was at that moment when I awoke.

There isn’t anything of the foregoing – the trip to Paris, the dialysis, the pepper from the supermarket, the rapid panic-awakenings to cancel out the dreams; that needs any explanation at all. Neither does the fact that it’s all preying on my mind when I’m supposed to be asleep and relaxing.

It seemed to be a rather late awakening for everyone this morning. Almost 08:00 when I heard signs of stirring coming from the kitchen, so I staggered off to the bathroom for a wash and brush up.

As you might expect at moments like this, the nurse arrived early today. He caught me in flagrante delicto and had to wait around for a few minutes while I finished whatever I was doing.

After he left, we had a coffee and then I made a little breakfast. I would ordinarily have done without this morning seeing how I was feeling, but they would only go berserk at the dialysis centre when they check my diabetes level.

One thing that I wanted to do was to write out my letter of notice for this apartment. I know that I said that I wouldn’t run the risk of the one downstairs not being finished. However, as I said yesterday, I can’t go on much longer like this, and I’ve lived in worse circumstances than what there would be down there, even with no kitchen. I’ll manage much better down there as things are rather than continue to struggle on trying to climb up here.

All of this called for more coffee (well, I didn’t) and a chat until my faithful cleaner came, earlier than usual because of my extended appointment, to fit my patches and to have a chat.

At 12:30 we went downstairs to meet the taxi driver, whom we met at the foot of the stairs just as he was about to come up, so we were away quite quickly. We picked up our other usual Saturday passenger and then I slept all the way down to Avranches. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … sleep is my “doliprane”.

For a change, I was one of the first to be coupled up. It was Anaïs and Océane who dealt with me today and Océane held my hand again. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I don’t know what she is after, but I don’t have it any more.

But I’m not going to complain under any circumstances. She can hold my hand as much as she likes … "and so can Anaïs, Alexi, Julie the Cook, Justine, Héloise, Amandine etc etc" – ed …

When they weighed me, they found that there was just 1.8kg to lose today, well within my three-and-a-half hour limit.
"But the doctor said four and a half" said Océane.
"The doctor doesn’t know what she’s talking about " I replied.

In the end, we agreed on a compromise of four hours.

However, when the doctor in charge came round, he took one look at the figures and reduced the time to three and a half hours.

This meant that I would have been able to be home early, and had the taxi been there instead of twenty minutes late, I would have been. Instead, we had to fight our way through all of the crowds going to the start of the town’s 10km road race just round the corner from here.

It was another struggle up to my little apartment, but at least my friend made me some tea, which was very nice.

We had a play with this recording desk afterwards, and then I sat down to write my notes for the day.

Now that they are done, I’m off to bed, and I can’t say that I’m not sorry. I’m still suffering the effects of the chemotherapy and I’m going to have to do something about it.

But seeing as we have been talking about losing weight … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a girl from Crewe whom I knew who wanted to lose weight.
The dietician told her "it’s simple really – just eat normally for two days, skip a day and then eat for two days, skip a day and so on"
After a couple of weeks the dietician sees the girl from Crewe and asks "how’s it going?"
"I had to stop" replied the girl from Crewe
"Why was that?" asked the dietician
"On the sixth day I wore out the rope."

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Thursday 19th June 2025 – WE NOW HAVE …

… a fridge-freezer downstairs to go with the oven that came on Wednesday. A large van must have done half a dozen laps around here before deciding that this building is where he wants to be.

And we need a large fridge-freezer too because the temperature is ridiculous today. My faithful cleaner is convinced that she saw 38°C indicated on a temperature reader in the town. If that’s the case, it’s the hottest that I’ve been since I was IN HUNGARY IN 2020.

It didn’t look like that last night. It was fairly cool when I came in here to write up my notes, and I was so comfortable that I wasn’t in any rush to finish. It ended up a slow, leisurely evening and after midnight I was still letting it all hang out.

Eventually I made it into bed and was asleep quite quickly. But once again, not for long because at 05:35 I was wide awake.

With the extra-early start, I dictated the radio notes that i’d written earlier in the week – and then had to dictate them a second time as the first attempt didn’t record. And the volume is still weak and feeble, just like me at the moment

By now, everyone else was awake so I went for a wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. Then we assembled in the kitchen and sat around drinking coffee.

The Hound of the Baskervilles dragged its master off for walkies and I came in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was doing something with the radio last night, having to play around with various tracks to work out how long they were and work out whereabouts in the programme they would actually fit. I wasn’t doing it for very long because I don’t know what awoke me but I happened to wake up round about 05:35 so I’ve no idea.

One of the songs that was going round and round in my head when I awoke was Steve Earle’s THE DEVIL’S RIGHT HAND, sung by the Phil Beer Band. It was probably stuck in my brain due to the fact that I was listening to a concert by the group just before I went to bed.

After that, I made a start on editing the radio notes but everyone came back from walkies so we had more coffee.

Interestingly, the hackles on the Hound of the Baskervilles stood up and he began to have a deep, menacing growl. 30 seconds later, Isabelle the Nurse came in. He barked at her but she soon won him over and left me thinking “I wish that she’d stroke me like that!”

Once she’d left I could have breakfast, and then we plotted what we intended to do this afternoon and sorted everything out. We also watched a strange van circle around here a couple of times

My cleaner came bang on time to fit my anaesthetic patches, having noticed a strange van circling around. She’d asked then if it was for me but then denied it all, and carried on circling.

The taxi was early, and when I descended, I noticed that the van had made up its mind and had stopped. They had the tail-lift down and were manoeuvring … "PERSONoeuvring" – ed …. an enormous package – my fridge-freezer. My friend helped them move it into the apartment downstairs while I rode off into the sunset.

There were two other people to pick up on the way, but even so, we were early. However, it was to no avail, being early, because they weren’t ready for me. I had to loiter around for twenty minutes.

The coupling-up was painful as usual, and then I was so exhausted that I crashed out for fifteen minutes or so. The staff, though, left me mostly alone, except for the odd check of my blood pressure when the alarm sounded.

In the middle of it all, there were several ‘phone calls. There was another delivery but the driver was lost. Consequently I had to liaise with him, my friend and my faithful cleaner in order that the parcel arrived as it should. All of this effort for a new spice rack.

Océane uncoupled me this evening, and not for the first time, she held my hand while she compressed my arm, which I thought was sweet. When I was let go, she came with me to hand my bag over to the taxi driver, and as she turned to go back in, I expressed my surprise that she wasn’t going to come home with me.

But honestly, any one of a dozen or so of those nurses could come hime with me any time they liked.

Back here, I inspected the new purchases, and also the insides of the wardrobes that my friend had painted for me. They look so much better now, and will look even nicer when they are dry.

As a treat, I took him out to the Italian restaurant that we like. I had my usual penne al arrabbiata and he had ham in a gorgonzola sauce. I hope that it tasted better than it smelt.

So right now, thoroughly exhausted and the fan on to try to cool everything down, I’m off to bed where I intend to sleep for a week.

But seeing as we have been talking about the delivery driver … "well, one of us has" – ed … when I came home my friend told me that the Hound of the Baskervilles had been chasing the delivery driver down the street in his van.
"That’ll teach him a valuable lesson" I said. "Next time he comes here, he’ll take the keys out of the ignition and close the door"
Nevertheless, I was quite impressed. I didn’t even realise that the Hound of the Baskervilles could drive

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Tuesday 2th September 2023 – THE MEDICAL STAFF …

… has certainly been earning its money today here at Ice Station Zebra. There has been an endless stream of visitors here today to see me.

There was a couple of people who came to see me quite early on but as you can imagine, I didn’t take much notice of them.

However I was wide awake at 07:42 and up and about a few minutes later.

The first job was to transcribe the dictaphone notes from the night. It was a really comfortable bed, which is a surprise for an Institution like this, so I had made the most of it. I was with Nerina. We’d gone to meet someone to find out anout French income tax. The guy with whom we spoke said that he knew someone who was an expert and he’d have us meet him. That turned out to be someone else whom we knew. We all arranged that we’d meet at a table in a café some time and have a big discussion. A shot while later Nerina and I went to a café for a coffee. There was very little room. There was a communal table with a couple of spaces at it and plenty of 2 and 4-person places but they were all filled so we decided that we’d grab these 2 spaces at this communal table As we reached there we saw that of the 2 chairs a girl had pulled one towards her and had her feet on it. Nerina had no choice but to sit on it. I saw the scowl that the girl gave on her face so I picked up the chair with Nerina on it and moved it right up against the table. I sad “you don’t want to sit so far away from the table. You’ll fall through the gap” which made everyone laugh. The girl who had her feet forcibly removed from the chair, they had now fallen to the floor was extremely upset and angry by it. But I didn’t care.

There was also a stroy about some cars for sale. I’d been and had a look at one – a C-registered Sierra but I thought that it was too expensive. A little later on I was driving down a country lane – it might have been Back Lane in Weston or something, and they were assembling a grader to scrape the road surface. I talked to the little girl who was in my car and explained to her what was going to happen; We saw 3 or 4 cars – they were driving away from the place where they’d been for sale. There was a red Chrysler PT Cruiser that someone was just getting into, tearing the price ticket from the window, and then the Sierra which was actually moving. We noticed that the Sierra was misfiring somewhat as it drove away so I was glad that I didn’t buy it. Then someone whom I knew – a girl, bought a car from here. She said that a cottage had been included in the price so she wanted to go to look at it. She wasn’t expecting much for her money, she said. We set out and had to climb into the hills. There was plenty of snow about on the hills. When she left the car she kept on slipping but we eventually found the cottage. It was really difficult and there was no parking or anything. It was in a line of terraced houses and was in a terrible condition. it was being used as a hay store. She said “that’s going to be something to keep Terry busy while he’s here”. We had a good look at it and began to make plan about it.

I was auditing some accounts for some kind of villagers’ association at some point during the night. While I was doing it someone handed me a letter demanding to know the latest minutes of the Parish council meeting and their annual accounts. First thing I did was to fix up some kind of street light in the village square, which everyone liked, a USB (… "he means “LED”" – ed …. light and one or to people could even read by it if they were close enough to it. That met with their approval. I asked them who was the local councillor. Someone eventually found me a list of names and telephone numbers in a local magazine so I began to ring round while everyone went out of the room for something to eat. Eventually I came across a German guy called Ede. I phoned him and we arranged to meet. When we met, he wouldn’t answer any of my questions at first. He wanted to know who I was, what I was doing, why I was here and what my interest was with him. Eventually I persuaded him to give me his name. He was in fact Mr Ede so we went to his house to chat about the letter that I’d received. On the way there I’d had a phone call from a lorry driver who was asking me some kind of question about something. I said that I’d have to answer him in a couple of minutes. Thee I was, trying to have this conversation with this German guy, trying to speak to someone on the phone and walking towards this guy’s house at the same time. It was all extremely confusing

Finally I was out driving and I ended up at some kind of outdoor exhibition. All my family and friends were there. I bumped into someone whom I knew. He was telling me about a place that we’d visited a few times, how there was plenty of stuff going on in there now. I said “ohh well, we’ll have to go to look. I couldn’t remember which night my free night was. I kept on proposing nights to him to go to see it, and suddenly realised that I had something else on. In the end he just smiled and said “go home, sort yourself out and telephone me, then we’ll arrange it like that. It really was confusing too. Later on I was having to go to the local market and needed someone to take me. In the end some foreign refugee guy said that he’d take me so we both went. I left the car on my crutches and put my head in this ten where the market was taking place. You could see the look of bewilderment on his face. As we went in there was a pile of second-hand clothes to sort through to see if you wanted to buy anything. I was much more interested in the second-hand record stall. You could see him sigh as I began to thumb through the albums but there were no albums there that interested me which was a shame because I always used to pick up something really nice from there.

Once I was finished I was going to do some more of the dictaphone notes from my previous hospital stay but to my surprise they aren’t on this computer. I can’t understand why because this is the laptop that I had back in those days and I’m absolutely certain that I had this SSD in here then.

In the middle of all of that there was an interruption as a nurse came by to take a blood sample. She took about 15 tubes from me quite quickly but there wasn’t enough blood to fill the other 5 that she had. She’ll come back tomorrow and take some more.

She also asked me for a urine sample, which I provided. But I thought that that was really taking the p****.

Once she’d gone, an orderly brought me my breakfast, which I ate while I was preparing for my Welsh lesson today.

But I needn’t have bothered. I was only there for 5 minutes before the dietician came to see me, and we spent a good half-hour talking about my diet and so on.

Obviously, the talk that we had worked wonders because the meal tonight included, as you might expect, white fish and a pot of cream cheese.

Once the dietician had left, I tried to reconnect with my Welsh lesson but instead, the pretty nurse came to see me.

"Lie down on the bed" she instructed "I’ll be back very soon"

It’s not every day that someone makes a proposition like that to me so I duly obliged Sure enough, she came back 5 minutes later – but with a technician and an electrocardiogram machine.

That took an age and after they left I tried to reconnect with what was left of my Welsh lesson. Instead, an orderly came in with my lunch so I gave up on the Welsh today.

Once everything had happened and everyone had gone I settled down on my comfy chair and had a little … err … relax. But not for long because the doctor came in and put a patch on my back. She didn’t say anything but having been through this before, I know what will be coming in an hour or so.

And I was correct too. She came back later with a nurse, told me to sit on the edge of the bed and curl up into a little ball. And then I suffered one of the most painful experiences that it was possible to have in a hospital – a lumbar puncture, where they take samples of the interior of your spine to check what they extract to see if there’s an infection.

While I was having the blood test the nurse stroked my arm, which I thought was sweet, and the one here with the doctor comforted me too. That was really nice too, but I don’t want to have to go through a lumbar puncture again, that’s for sure. Mind you, she did bring me a nice strong coffee afterwards. There’s not anything like enough coffee in this place.

After they had cleared off I thought that I could settle down. I’d been told to lie flat on the bed and not move for a couple of hours, so while I was drifting in ant out (mainly in) of sleep, a nurse came round with coffee. And then someone gave me a new water jug.

The final straw was when the doctor came back. She told me that the blood test had thrown up several anomalies and wanted to know if I had any medical reports from Castle Anthrax that she could use to compare.

Strange as it might seem, I’m trying to keep my Leuven details out of all of these tests. The reason is that if they discover them serendipitously, they might suggest another course of treatment or try something different. However, I couldn’t refuse. Leuven is all automated and their reports are available on line. Se we accessed a few and she took away the details.

A little earlier I talked about tea. I made do with pasta, beans, an apple purée and a green salad with vinaigrette. Not the best but I have to do what I can.

So that was today. I’ll be in bed early tonight again and hope for another good sleep. At least no-one disturbs me at 02:00 like they did in Leuven every night. I’m on my own here and that suits me just fine.

They are going to finish off the blood test tomorrow and there will probably be a few other things too. I have the impression that I won’t be here for long , at the speed at which they are working. They can take all of the tests they like and I won’t stop them at all. It’s not the results that interest me, it’s what they intend to propose to make things better for me.

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Thursday 2nd June 2016 -THE BIG PROBLEM …

… with crashing out so thoroughly like I did yesterday early evening is that you can’t go back to sleep again later. Especially when you have a room-mate who not only snores like a bull but who goes to the bathroom more often than I do.

In fact at one stage I do remember dropping off round about 04:00 only to be awoken by him going to the bathroom 10 minutes later. I’m going to definitely change my mind about leaving as soon as I see the doctor, and go and have a really good sleep somewhere else. It’ll mean a change of room too for when I come back (at least, I hope so anyway).

But I did drop off sometime later (but when, I’m not sure) only to be awoken by a nurse who wanted to take my temperature and blood pressure. I was stark out at that moment so I’ll be like a bear with a sore head (or in my case, a hare with a sore bed) for the rest of the day.

But somewhere in all of this, I’d found time to go on my travels again. I was driving somewhere (on the right-hand side of the road) and at a roundabout I had to turn right. On the corner was a school playing field (younger readers of this rubbish might not know what one of these is) with the kids playing all kinds of weird games. I made a few enquiries to find out the name of the school and then I obtained a brochure. The kids who were playing were the “Green” house of the school and this was nicknamed “the Dead”. The reason for this was that the kids in this house were selected for their “fun and spirit of enjoyment” but generally took twice as long to carry out academic tasks than their fellows in other houses.

I was allowed breakfast this morning, and then I had to wait around. And around. And around for my visit for the bone marrow. It wasn’t until 14:30 that they came to collect me and even then I had to wait half an hour before I was seen to.

The monotony was broken by the doctor who came to see me. I asked her if I really could go away for the weekend and she said that she would see the Professor who is handling my case. It seems that whatever happens next, the results of my kidney and of my bone marrow analyses won’t be through for a week so nothing will be decided before then anyway, and the discussion could easily take place at the Day Centre.

So what I need to do now is to speak to the girl at Social Services and see if she can find me a place in the family accommodation at Pellenberg starting on Monday and for a few days. That will give me a weekend away to go and pick up my telephone and then when I come back, a few days to find some accommodation such as a room in a house somewhere with shared facilities. I’ve seen them advertised via the University for as little as €200 per month (and as much as €750 per month too) and that will help me out during the summer while I organise myself.

But retournons à nos moutons as they say on the southern side of the linguistic frontier, we were discussing bone marrow a few minutes ago. And those regular readers of this rubbish will recall that they took a sample in Montlucon back ages ago and I can still feel the pain even now.

But they must have been butchers, not doctors, because the most painful thing about the bone marrow extraction today was the injection for the local anaesthetic. That’s not to say that it wasn’t uncomfortable of course, or that it was totally painless (or without stress because I’m useless in hospital) but it wasn’t anything near as bad as I was imagining.

First thing that I did when I returned here was to change out of my surgical gown and put my own clothes on. That’s much more like it. And now I have to wait for night to fall, and to hope that my room-mate doesn’t sleep on his back tonight. I’ll be glad to get away from here for a few days.

But I can’t go without mentioning a little incident here this evening. I was chatting to one of the nurses (one of the more … errr … mature ones) about what’s been going on, and she expressed a great deal of sympathy for me, ending up by stroking my arm.

Things are looking up!

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