Lyn

 I like working with Lyn

She's a support worker with a big heart and an enquiring mind

Like myself she is in her 60s and single

And like me she's an empath.

A few years ago we shared a moment at work which will bond us forever.

A relative who lived in another country rang to say goodbye to their sibling, who was unconscious.

It was a terribly busy shift but the both of us took some time holding the phone to our patient's ear,

hoping against hope that they could hear the messages and the murmurings of affection and

love only siblings can share.

Lyn and I looked at each other during that long phone call

Both knowing what the other was thinking

It was a privileged moment neither of us would forget.

I was busy with a patient last night

It was a complex problem

And Lyn was there in the background as always

Halfway through the shift she made me a sandwich and a cup of tea and set it down next 

To me as I worked

Its nice to be looked after

Sometimes its lovely

The Reunion

 I took the dogs to the beach early on. I’d run out of metformin so I collected some from a friend soon after, then bought Roger and Mary a cheesy bacon flatbread each. I had a coffee and we listened to The Reunion on Radio four.

The Reunion is a documentary hosted by Kirsty Wark , It has a simple format , the recorded reunion of 8 individuals who at one time had a connection through some important or life changing event.

Today was a reunion of first responders ( and the relatives of civilians) all caught up in 9/11 in New York

And under Wark’s calm guidance , the experiences of that day were told with dignity and clarity. 

It was such an emotional and hypnotic listen that we drove the long way home, in order to give the hour the time it deserved. I cried a few times on the journey home, a testament to the power of the spoken word

The rest of Sunday is a write off. I’m doing an overtime shift later so I will have a siesta

Weaver has the shits so I sent needs worming again which I can only do in skin drop form…another challenge in itself. 👀🐈‍⬛👀💨💩

The nights are drawing in, and Autumn is almost with us ….its heading towards the village apple fest, the warm hub coffee afternoons and the ponies return to the field opposite 

The garden spiders will be migrating through the cracks in the cottage armor and the log burner will be lit every night…….so I will leave you with the glorious Talia Choir and their version of Viva La Vida ( my favourite singer being at 0.24 secs! ) 

Enjoy

2.53am

 I’m sitting with a patient who cannot speak but is awake

Insomnia seems to go hand in hand with palliative care

It’s early morning. 

The tv is too invasive 

So it the radio

So I sit and write quietly with his permission , keeping him company in silence.

We are heading towards the witching hour

3 am, it is thought, to be the time of Jesus’ death.

I only know that because a devout catholic friend, a Filipina nurse, told me on night shift.

Apparently the Chinese think that 3 am is the time we all process our blocked emotions.

I think I believe that could be true.

It is also the time humans flit from our deepest sleep to a lighter one

An Afternoon Client

 

Instead of my client’s face, I was gazing at a very large white Alsatian on the computer monitor.

The dog pricked up his ears when I said hello 

And I head a faraway shriek somewhere else in the house.

The dog jumped down, presumably following the yell

“ leave it alone ! Leave it alone” I heard my client cry

And there was much shuffling and banging followed by a sharp bark.

More banging

“hello HELLO! I shouted this time

“John! John! Give me a minute! “ came the muffled reply

More bangs and more bashing

It all felt somewhat surreal 

I took a sip of coffee

And a minute or so later my client sat down, gasping, her hair in disarray 

“ Ziggy brought in an injured starling” she explained “ and I had to capture it in a spare pair of knickers”

Hey ho

Olé

 I forgot it was bank holiday today 

That threw me

I haven’t left the cottage 

I talked and laughed with the German on video in the morning 

Had a long sleep in the afternoon 

And had a Spanish lesson for an hour at teatime

Did I tell you I was having Spanish lessons on line?

My old friend Jose who lives in Southern Spain is also a counsellor 

He needs to practice his conversational English 

I need the Spanish basics 

So for a couple of hours a week we chat about bollocks on line

I’m getting better with confidence and the language, injecting bien and Si into phrases that  will be useful 

I’ve taught him words and punctuation like absolutely and shite 

Osmosis and conversations in another language is very therapeutic and we get by admirably 

Tonight I’ve watched Ludwig with a rasping Mary on my knee

 

It’s a great show, I must say 

Light and bright 

Just Bun at home , I’ve got her wormer and flea treatment on her, which she wasn’t happy about.

Weaver has been gone for 2 weeks 

I’m baffled by the absences 

Tomorrow I’m meeting Chic Eleanor for breakfast 

I’ve missed her
 

Poo in the Shower

 

Bun managed to poo down the shower drain overnight.

I had uncovered it to clean yesterday and in darkness she took the opportunity to fill it nicely

With Mary’s two carpet puddles in the wee small hours 

That was three big clean ups before my first coffee

It’s like living in an old peoples home ! 

Thank fuck I’ve bought a new carpet cleaner

My new tv arrived today too

It’s my smallest to date 

Too small a target for Weaver to piss on when she returns. 

I watched Ben Hur on it this afternoon and I bloody enjoyed the Chariot Race!

Wtf

 I’m worried we have just gotten too use to his awful behaviour. 

Poetry

 This video is sheer poetry.

Glen Close in just a few words seems to have captured something quite beautiful 

It’s Saturday nite….nothing much is happening 

Mary is on my knee, Roger is on the reading chair in the kitchen 

I’ve just cleaned his ears so he’s sulking 

Bun is not well but she’s eaten 

She’s hidden away in the airing cupboard