I Love You More Than I can Say

When did you last say " I love you" to someone ? 

It's almost Back

A month to go 

The Walking Dead returns! 

Chic Eleanor

I had that date today.....Remember I mentioned it a while ago

It was fun, and chatty and was an easy three hours out of our day.

I ate lunch too ( and didn't drip any of my open prawn sandwich down my front) 

Which was a first! 

We've  agreed to meet again

When I came home I popped in to see Chic Eleanor 

Now , Chic Eleanor is a new character to Going Gently , but she has really been a good friend for a couple of years now. When Chris moved out, she like many of my friends, went up a gear and we have become closer mates through our work at Samaritans and over the odd beautifully served gin and tonic.

Eleanor is in her mid fifties and looks years younger. She lives in a beautiful country house just East of the village and has class, style and warmth in bucket loads. 

She has the chic personality of Catherine Deneuve and wears a pashmina with a natural elegance unheard of in Trelawnyd. 

She always refers to me as " My Darling John!" 

I told Eleanor of my date as she dropped a sliver of lemon into a fat Chrystal gin glass 

" Darling John I think it's time to follow suit and dip my toe into the dating pool" she purrred reaching for the fever tree tonic 

" You will be snapped up !" I told her honesty

And typical of many , quite naturally beautiful people, she was genuiningly surprised by my words

" Do you think so , my darling John?" She said flicking her beautifully flowing hair with a fine finger

" Yes!" I told her honestly

" How absolutely  lovely !" She said with a genuine smile which lit up the room! 

An Observation not a complaint

A much needed bucket of coffee this morning

I worked late last night and got home well after nine pm.
Busy is busy does.
I have today off and back to work tomorrow
It seemed that admissions were comming out of thin air!
I'm not complaining
But my muscles can feel their 12 hour usage.
Luckily I was working with another new nurse my age who said that she was feeling the burn too
We compared aches between us like two old ladies in a doctor's waiting room.

I am off today
I've just got enough time to clean the cottage, wash my clothes , meet a friend for coffee and have some quality Winnie time before getting ready for work again.
There's a wine tasting night at the hall tonight too....I think I'll give that a miss

Trendy Carol will collect the dogs tomorrow instead of the sexy bearded dog walker.
She's now starting to wear autumnal colours!
It feels as though summer is officially over

Dotty

I might be mad but I have provisionally agreed to give a foster home to a three year old diva
I know things are busy for me ( I got home after nine pm tonight after a day which Could rival  Intensive Care and which had my feet sore and my head spinning) but I think there is room enough for Dotty 
Within the fag hag canine community of Bwthyn at llan
Dotty needs a loving home

A Dorothy at Trelawnyd

Quelle surprise 

Arsehole

For five years I have thought that one person I know is an absolute arsehole
Last night I told him that he was
It was over an arguement that essentially he was in the right side of
But his manner, just flipped me over the edge of good breeding and I could no longer bite my tongue
It felt guilty...
But....mighty good
Even though most of it was transference

Winnie went to Trendy Carol's this afternoon...
She kicked the cushions from off her sofas too.

"Fingers Running Through your Hair"

She was one of four patients I was responsible for.
A tiny bird of a woman in her nineties.
Her room was dimmed and very peaceful and she allowed me to feed her a minuscule portion of soup with a teaspoon.
Inbetween tastes, we spoke briefly.
She taught me to pronounce her name which was very Welsh and very difficult to say.
I told her it was only my second shift at the hospice.
I made her comfortable and asked if I could brush her thick grey hair which had feathered out against her pillow.
She nodded weakly her consent.
The soft plastic teeth of her pink hairbrush glided gently against her scalp and at every brush she half closed her eyes in brief bursts of pleasure.
" I too love having my hair brushed, I always have from when I was a little boy " I admitted and she nodded again
She fell asleep within a minute or two.

I sat quietly for a while, the hairbrush still in my hand.
I was remembering a secret, shared a long time ago.
A conversation between my husband and I.
One of those private talks, you have with your next of kin
At quiet times, like that moment in that hospice side room

" If you were ever dying on intensive care" he told me " I will sit by your bed and run my fingers through your hair"

I felt I was going to weep, but I didn't.
The old lady sighed in her sleep.
And I silently put her hairbrush away and slipped away from the room

Flirting

Tonight was my last choir practice for a month
I have been rostered for the next four Tuesdays but after this I hopefully will have Choir night as my day off, which will allow me to also have a day where I can also earmark for my Samaritain mentoring, volunteer shift paperwork and audit day...
The choir had the difficult Beatles song Help to master, a challenge made a little more complicated by some rather unsavoury and blatent flirting between one of the over chatty bass members and a somewhat loud Alto who stands opposite. ( the choir stand in a circle)
This testosterone/ oestrogen behaviour came to a head just before we tackled the South African National Anthem where the bass tiptoed over to rub noses with the Alto....
A gesture which brought forth a breathy " Good Lord!!!! " from Peter the Gentleman farmer and a rather disgusted " Well that was all a bit unnecessary !" from Heulwen my friend and tenor from Trelawnyd.
Jamie sporting his new 1940s RAF beard is far too well bred to say anything
But we will if it happens again!

We giggled like schoolgirls on the way back home about it all...

Knob

Trendy Carol ( neat jeans , very nice leather jacket, hair slightly big) called over the kitchen wall this morning. She asked for a spare key to the cottage and will pop in when I am at work to check on the girls.
Another example of community which is genuine, undemanding and kind.

I listened to Jacob Rees Mogg verbally slap down an NHS Urology consultant on LBC talk radio yesterday morning for highlighting health care worries a no deal Brexit could cause.
The doctor was polite yet shocked by Rees Mogg's rudeness
I was sickened by it.
Like many Americans, I don't want the people that represent me being rude....
Cruelty, rudeness and lying
Politics seems to hurtling down this route
I sent him a tweet telling him he's a knob

Gwen- one of the happier moments in the film 

Knob is my word du jour 
I use it  daily and did so last night when a man continued to talk to his wife very loudly during a screening of the Welsh movie " Gwen " even after being politely asked not to by a young woman behind me
" You're being a knob!" I told him and he hushed very quickly

No, the irony of me calling everyone a knob is not lost on me .( I need to get that in before the anon commentators start!)

The film was " advertised " as being artistic and beautiful.
It was depressing and somewhat downbeat and looked every inch it's budget

I am meeting a friend this afternoon. She comes from land locked England  and is going through a hard time with health and family issues so needs the seaside air and quiet ear.
She was a rock for me a year or so ago, and I intend to repay the favour.
Quid Pro Quo
As Hannibal Lecter used to say

Someone To Watch Over Me

I fell asleep in the armchair waiting for the surveyor 

This is what I saw when I woke up

Someone To Watch Over Me

Settling In

The cottage is being valued today as part of my bid in taking over the mortgage .
I only have a helpful window of Our Representative will be with you between 8 am and 2 pm
The cottage is in readiness

I have enjoyed my first week at the hospice.
It's nice joining a team again.
I have been reminded so much of my Spinal Injury days where the staff were incredibly intuitive and psychologically grounded when it came to patient care.
In the hospice , as you would expect, it's all about pragmatic nursing balanced with that psychological care.
I have found the medical input relaxed, comprehensive and client centred.

As the new "boy" with very little palliative care experience, I'm pretty much playing the " teach me " game, which I am very happy to do.
I love the soaking up of information , even though I have gone home with a headache every night and  I wonder what they think of me after all I'm not a gauche wall flower of a character.
Last night was a case in point
At the nurses station there was some discussion about bringing dogs into the hospice.
Several of the nurses had already seen Mary when I called in to collect my uniforms and the conversation meandered into a chat about the merits of certain breeds
" What do you think of Dachshunds ?" Jo the nurse asked as I got up to complete a drug pump check
" I don't like them" I told her " They can't walk upstairs with an erection!!!!!" 

I've Been Robbed

Despite the Sexy Bearded Dog Walker attending to one particular Welsh Terrier and Bulldog when I am at work, one aforementioned bulldog has acted out her displeasure at not having me on hand 24/7 by trashing the cottage population of scatter cushions and chair throws as effectively as Die Hard's Bruce Willis kills English terrorists!
Even the trendy little armchair in the kitchen has had its cushions deftly removed and every one in the house, some 15 in total,  have been flung about during what I can only surmise as a tantrum of  gigantic proportions
Tonight I came home just before 9pm and stood in the doorway surveying the damage
Mary looked guilty
Even the innocent Albert hung his head in shame
Winnie just gave me a dirty look and when I pointed to the nearest cushion lying only six inches from my feet, she snorted loudly and kicked a sweet embroidered homemade button pillow with a heavy and very angry foot!
It sailed through the air like a rugby ball
Hell hath no fury as a Bulldog Bitch Scorned 

Trolls, Pain And Glory et al

Last night a particular Troll had a little " play" on Going Gently 

They thought they were being clever in doing so , but they only sought to make a fool of themselves as most, if not all of their comments were based in misinformation and supastiston. 

I wasn't even mildly irritated by it all...I had better things to do.

If I am wrong ( and I am not) " I will apologise to "Jaqc" and " Sue" personally if they email me at jgsheffield@hotmail.com

I'm not holding my breath.....

With my date postponed, I organised an ENO today and took myself off to see Almodóvar's latest movie Pain & Glory.

The film is Almodóvar's most autobiographical work to date and brings together his signature themes of mother love, regret and memories of awakening sexuality and sets them against the backdrop of a sleek modern day Spain and a vibrant and colourful mise en scene.

Penélope Cruz as Mallo's Mother

A haunted and haunting Banderas

Almodóvar is " played" by Antonio Banderas. A film writer who has hit a sad isolated plateau in his luxurious Madrid penthouse. Wracked in pain from a myriad of physical and psychological complaints his character Salvador Mallo,is haunted by regrets over a hit 30 year old film, a love affair  that went awry and his relationship with his mother. 

A meeting with a drug using past work colleague, introduces Mallo to recreational heroin , a drug that eases his pains but also accidentally enables him to access the Ghosts of old memories past.

Banderas is wonderful in the lead role. At times he seems a diminished Wreck of character who is overwhelmed with physical pain and regret then he transforms into an emotional bruised ex lover of a man who went on to marry a woman and have a family of his own .

It's a complicated and delicate performance which , will be , I am sure , Banderas' triumph come award giving time.

I met my friend Mave for lunch after the film which filled my quota of sassy gay quips and before the movie had some phone  banter with Si the chap I had planned to meet today...

It's nice to have a few more gay mates...Mave was incensed by last night's blog trolling 

He was ready to bitch slap the "lot "of em! 

Friday Morning

After a brief discussion with the hospice sister I changed today's 12 hour shift to Sunday.
As a ward manager I would not have given a memeber of staff three long day shifts together and so have asked if that could be the case for me .
Ive cleaned the cottage in operation dog shot removal in readiness for its valuation on Monday. The valuation is part of my application for the new mortgage.
I found an escapee cocktail sausage under the kitchen door and a mummified mouse underneath the spare bed.
I caught up with affable despot Jason who has just had a family holiday along the beaches of Anglesey. His hand has improved thanks primarily to the salt water and sunny days , and now looks healed.
He has been left with residual local neurological damage I think
But was as cheerful and irreverent as always.
Mary and I walked around the village this morning.
Nurse Hattie must be on nights as there is a big DO NOT KNOCK on her front door and as we passed her landlady's garden ( Jenny the old post mistress) I noticed a mass of orange/ yellow daisy flowers covering her borders.
The mobile butcher was sawing into what looked like a leg of lamb in Bron Haul . He works from the back of a small white van and always wears a long white doctors' coat rather than an apron.
He stops in the village every Friday morning.
He's very polite and very Welsh, and tips his head in greeting like my grandfather used to do when he wore a  trilby hat.
Mrs Trellis was practicing her piano in her living room window as we passed.
She was telling me she had procured a tea urn for the Church refreshment table.
Her greyhound Blue danced when he saw Mary, who only yapped at him.
Greyhounds irritate her somewhat.

Fishfingers under the honeysuckle

The dog walker left the back door unlocked today which I was unhappy about
I didn't have the energy to be angry, partly because I was tired and partly because Winnie had somehow got a miniature cocktail sausage stuck in her gums and was bouncing around the cottage like a loon in an effort to finally eat it
In the end I had to sit on her and flick it out with a crooked finger

I rang the walker and asked him nicely if he could be a little more careful in future.

I had a fishfinger sandwich for tea at 9 pm
And ate  it still in my uniform on the front garden seat
Under the still fragrant but dying blooms of the honeysuckle

Fucked

I'm knackered
Out at 6.45 am back at 20.45pm
One of three consecutive shifts
Everyone Welcoming
Mary hysterical when I returned
Winnie blew me a kiss from the doorway
I bought them a packet of Swedish meatballs
And we sat quietly together until I fell asleep watching the start of Bake Off
But not before Prue said to Noel  " I'm dribbling"
There seems to be too many homosexuals on it this year! 
But at lest the smutty entendres are startling 

Zbogom Moja

We sang a version of this at choir tonight
Not a ditty you could bang out when pissed I can tell you
The choir sang their usual birthday greetings this week to Hattie, John and Lyn and then sang me a surprise Good Luck song at the end of choir practice
I am blessed to be part of such a nice bunch of despots!
Off to bed after bake off
Uniform Ironed, packed lunch and tea made.
House in order for dog walker

A New Furry Pencilcase

My pre work shopping trolley 

I'm feeling the lurve this morning
Tomorrow is my first shift at the hospice...at last

I was in the supermarket when a couple of texts, an email entitled " Bra Straps" and a Twitter message came in together alongside an invitation to tea
All more or less said the same thing
" Good Luck for the new job"
Which is nice.

I'm feeling, today, is a kind of " Dear Diary" sort of moment.
Going Gently has been a dear confidant to me
Over the past 18 months
Week by week, It, and you it's readers have soaked up my distress and celebrated my milestones, with a mixture of sweet positivism, pithy humour and occasional exasperation and I can now see how things have changed even though over the past year I often lost my perspective.

I thought about this, only this morning when one message I received was from an acquaintance who has recently split up from his partner who also, rather unfortunately, works in the same University department.
I asked him how he was doing and his choice of words stabbed at me like a knife
" I'm struggling" he shared honestly
And I realised gratefully, that I am no longer struggling with that awful pain, and need for honesty and truth I felt so many months ago.

Now don't get me wrong, that recent emotional battering I gave myself at my father in law's funeral was the most painful episode I have experienced since the day my husband actually walked out of the cottage.
But I can remember things more affectionately than I once did

Something I did this morning at the supermarket.

When Chris changed jobs from Preston to Leeds and from Leeds to Sheffield, I often bought him some silly things to mark the event.

Once I bought him a new pencil case complete with shiny new pencils, pens and a rubber , one like your mum would do before your first day back at school.
Other time it was a gift of a homemade pencil desk tidy made from a cat food tin.
And this morning I treated myself to my own " furry pencil case"  in the shape of a new lever arch file in which I can organise my documents, training, learning objectives and correspondence from the hospice.
I even bought myself a set of posh new pens to go with it
A gift to myself.......

Tomorrow, that first shift will mark my final steps towards self determination and self sufficiency.
It's going to be a struggle, and the T 's are yet to crossed and the I's dotted but I feel proud that I have finally done it with only one or two queeny moments of silliness

And I apologise for banging on so much and for so long.

This week, I start work.
This weekend I also have a date with a bloke !
A nice , ordinary , interesting bloke who will, I am sure, become a very good friend if we just get on as friends.
I am, at last , Going Gently
Going Forward........Going Forward gently

A Bump In The Night

Many times in the early morning now I have been forced awake by some vague and unsettling sound somewhere in the cottage.
The dogs sleep noisily through it without alarm
And there is no frantic banging from the cat flap to signal the arrival of any local moggie intent at stealing Albert's dinner
But as I lie in bed, I am sure that there is a regular pulsating, vague groan from somewhere downstairs.
Last night the mystery was solved
I fell asleep watching some crap on tv last night and woke in the dark sometime well before the dawn chorus from the cockerels.
Then I heard the automatic bin open in the kitchen with a slight whir.
A couple of seconds later the top closed with an almost inaudible bump
And then it opened again....
This happened four times before stopping

Wide eyed, I got up and walked into the kitchen.
Albert was sat on the kitchen armchair with his paw outstretched
He had noticed the blinking infrared sensor on the bin lid and was happily swatting it for his own amusement