As I said earlier, the Doc gave me stronger antibiotics to fight the infection in my shin, but I’d forgotten he told me to stop taking the iron supplements I’d been taking because they interfere with the efficacy of the stronger medication. Naturally… I immediately forgot so each day I’ve been taking two of the antibiotics along with one iron pill so, basically, I’ve been compromising their effectiveness. Tomorrow I’ll have to try to remember. My excuse is I have a lot on my mind right now. 🙂
Last October the wife had dual cataract operations. She already has Glaucoma and this we felt was just another load to carry. However, since November, she’s noticed the sight of her left eye was deteriorating significantly. Because of this, we visited her consultant on Monday morning for him to investigate. After discovering she had a badly damaged optic nerve she was sent for an urgent MRI, which she had on Tuesday.
Tuesday evening we had a call from the consultants secretary asking her to come in urgently so we’re off today at 12:30 to see what’s wrong.
There are a few options of course, and none pretty. There is the obvious possibility of pressure on the nerve cutting off blood supply, i.e. a tumour… which may or may not be benign and, also, may or may not be operable. Or there are the demyelinating diseases (such as Multiple Sclerosis) which are not quite as dangerous immediately but have long term life consequences. She has already reported to the doctor having a ‘numb’ feeling in her foot… which in itself isn’t an issue, but in combination with the eye issue raises questions.
Those are worst case scenarios of course but as far as I can see there would be no reason for us to be called in urgently if there was no good reason… i.e. something needs to be fixed *now*. We’re all rather worried.
Today we learn that Donald Trump has somehow managed to beat out all the potentially ‘better qualified’ candidates to become the Republican candidate for the US Presidency and, by default, leader of the free world. The question is *how*.
He has no political experience, has never held office, had very shaky business acumen and his speeches have been filled with all sorts of extreme right wing polemic. He’s attacked ‘foreigners’, said he’ll make Mexico build a wall across their shared border to stop immigrants, derided women, attacked pro-choice and gay marriage… yet is still leading the party of Abraham Lincoln.
The fear is that to maintain a level of popularity or simply out of inexperience or ineptitude he’ll initiate a major world conflict. The world is rightly horrified by this development.
Not at all sure I’d recommend these guys to anyone. We have ‘back to base’ reporting etc… mostly wireless… but I can’t say their other services are up to scratch. We’ve made two appointments for a service call… at their request. The first one they missed. Naturally that said we weren’t home, or didn’t answer the bell etc which is rubbish because out dogs bark at the sight of a butterfly let alone a visitor and I’d have heard them. The also said they’d rung and left a message, which they didn’t because I *had* no message on my phone! We rag to remake the appointment and they are due today between 9:00 a.m. and mid-day. Currently the time is 11:35 a.m.and they’ve not arrived, nor have they rung to say they’d be on time, or more importantly… late. Not happy!!
Well it’s gone mid-day now and no sign of them and no phone call. I’ll have to ring.
Edit: Seems they wrote the date down as 5th not 4th… even with *my* hearing I couldn’t mix up ‘fourth’ and ‘fifth’. There ya go… that’s what happens when you argue with call centre staff. Next appt is the afternoon of May 16th… I don’t know why I bother!! It’s time to start looking around for a new provider.
The leg still hurts, no two ways about it. I went back to Raj, on Monday, and explained I’d been cleaning the wound, taking it easy, changing the dressings etc but not a lot was improving. In fact it felt a lot worse. Put simply, he gave me stronger antibiotics for two weeks, and said take painkillers.
To be fair, two days later my leg *has* improved tho not as much as I’d have hoped, still I’m no child and healing takes longer. I can wait awhile. 🙂
Please don’t read this blog with the idea that the posts and the timeline will be in any way linear. I expect to hop about from time period to time period and place to place as the fancy takes me. Current affairs, i.e. my life as it is, will be mixed in with life as it was. Basically, I just have the urge to write down what’s in my mind when I open the blog.
Also, sad to say, my memory isn’t what it was (if it ever was what it was – see earlier post) and apart from the issues highlighted earlier, I may actually duplicate events in multiple posts… hopefully without too many paradoxes and contradictions. 🙂
To be quite honest I can see no real use for them, not in this blog anyway. Why? Because it appears above the previous post and ‘in-line’ so effectively… it’s another post. Maybe there’ll be a use for it eventually, maybe as a place put additional information not included or immediately relevant to the post it’s related to… right now tho pretty useless.
For most of us, recallable memory begins with speech. Few of us can recall anything before we are able to speak and verbalize our experience. This is obvious really because otherwise we have no way of telling ourselves what we’ve seen. Images, cloudy and unformed, may appear but without words to describe what we see, they can’t be understood.
I have no firm memories of my time in Bartlett Street. I’ve seen a photo of my sister and I standing outside our house where an itinerant photogtapher took a picture.
As an aside, my mother hated that photo. My sister’s underwear was hanging down on one side and neither of us was dressed for success. Still, she’d paid for it so she kept it. 🙂
Oddly I *do* have a cloudy memory of having the photo taken but it’s not firm enough for me to claim it as a first.
The first time I’m sure I actually remember an event was standing outside the old Cooperative Butchers shop opposite the castle (for anyone unaware, Caerffili has a huge castle in the centre of the town). The run of Coop shops has long gone but they were a valuable profit sharing resource for families for many years!! Anyway, my mother had been shopping and had met a friend outside and was chatting. I was examining a Belisha Beacon (now there’s a subject for another post) and ignoring the world as was then and is now my usual modus operandi My mother called, I paid no attention, she called again as mothers do and said if you aren’t coming I’m going without you… and started to walk off. Being me, and stubborn, I both refused to move *and* had a meltdown that I was being left behind. I’ve no idea who bent, or how the situation resolved itself but it did. There’s nothing special about this memory other than it neing the earliest. Having said that, in retrospect it set the scene for many repetitions of odd behaviour through my life.
There a few things to bear in mind concerning ‘memory’. To begin with they are for the most part flawed. Apart from the annoying human habit or reconstructing memories, even that reconstruction can be compromised by the insertion of foreign material. This may come from other people’s reminiscences, old photos, and even from media!!
Also those twin bugbears of perspective and bias (unconscious or otherwise) intrude without preamble on our mental records meaning we have to be extremely careful deciding what is actual fact, and what we’d wish was fact.
Pretty much I’m suggesting that my ‘memories’ may not be as accurate as I’d like, but with that caveat… and as that’s all I really have to be going on with… we’ll set off again. 🙂
I always wanted to start my biography that way, but as it seems it’s never going to be written I thought it would do as the first post in this ongoing series of reminiscences… i.e. self indulgent ramblings.
So as usual , where to start? The beginning seems as good a place as any.
I’m told I was born in Glossop Terrace Maternity Hospital in Cardiff, Wales. Clearly I have no memory of that so I just accept it.
I’m also led to believe that in my early years, until I was five or so, we lived in a liitle house in Caerffili on Bartlett Street to be exact but without checking I couldn’t tell you the number. All I really remember of the place is that we lived next door to a cobbler called Cyril Grono who used the front room of his house as a business premises and the remainder as a home for himself and his sister.
Around the corner, on White Street, lived my grandparents, William and Sarah Emily Knight. That’ll do for background and context for now. No doubt more will emerge later as we move forwards.