Out Of The Blue

 

Yesterday I received an email from a chap who has followed Trelawnyd online for a while
It was a very chatty letter which told me that his grandfather had in his possession schematic drawings of the original Memorial Hall and these he had recently collected from his brother in France.
He had framed these rare documents and contacted me to see if we would like them 
How wonderful I thought.
A fantastic coup 
He asked if he and his family could drive up from Bournemouth to personally drop the drawings off to us and I suggested he came on the flower show Saturday where we would reserve him a table and cream tea in appreciation and where the whole committee could thank him
I’m awaiting his reply.
How wonderful a gift 
How lovely




It’s Finally Reopened



 This summer and autumn, and with rail strikes permitting , I’ve got four trips to London planned .
I’m taking Nu to see La Traviata at the Royal Opera House for her birthday. Having an indulgent Royal Ballet and Les Miserables  time with my sister and will be taking my Nephew Leo to see his favourite Back to the Future Musical .
All have been bought and paid for by overtime shifts, which pleases me
Thanks to the RNT I have to stay an extra night in London with Nu so we’ve booked another play in the west end and gleefully today I’ve booked tickets to the newly reopened National Portrait Gallery, which is one of my most favourite places in London.
I’ve missed it so, for there is nothing better than going there on a rainy London afternoon and having a long mooch

Arse Into Gear

I’m on catch up.
Animal Helper Pat left a not on the garden wall last night for a Flower Show programme for her and friend Anthea ( who has the second best garden in the village). I delivered them before taking the dogs out then grabbed a few hours sleep before Ewan phoned me to remind me to pick him up for his hospital appointment. This afternoon I’ve got the rest of the programmes to deliver to targeted villagers, The Randas, The Joyful Cameron’s , Boffin Cameron, Hattie, Heulwen and a few others.
Mrs Trellis picked hers up early
“ I’m not up to the boiled fruit cake” she warned “ my wrist is a bit limp”
I didn’t ask why.

The posters need hanging on the noticeboards and the planters need a water.
I’m still tired so am drinking hot strong coffee from the Mokka at the kitchen table
Auntie Glad’s daughter emailed me suggesting a cup in her mums memory in the Show ( I need to sort that out)
We have five weeks to go.

It’s sunny and the humid air has been flushed away by the thankful breeze.
And I need to get my arse into gear

Two hours later and a bit of progress has been made. Lovely to see the adorable Ma Cameron who was genuinely  excited at the prospect of the show’s return, and many of the old committee from the now retired Prestatyn Flower Show all are on board for exhibiting. 
I’ve seen the Flower Judge and Veg Judge and confirmed they will be attending, 
Affable Despot Jason was out and about , he feigned exasperation 
I expect you want me to crest more novelty vegetable animals again ? He asked
“ The ruder the better” I said 
“ Leave it to me” he replied.

The Side Ward

I thought I was done with anecdotes from my nursing days, but this story sort of dredged itself out of my memory after watching a tv drama about the Withdrawal of treatment from a child patient on intensive care

Over Twenty years ago I was a ward manager.
The ward was a twenty bedded spinal injury ward with over fifty staff to look after 
We incorporated acute spinal injury care, four patients on long term ventilation, and had two high priority beds for sick spinal injury patients.
In short we were busy.

What we seldom had was emergency admissions, for most of the patients had to be assessed carefully in their admitting hospitals before transfer over to us. Sheffield was a regional speciality and took patients from as far as Lincoln, Cambridgeshire, Derby, Suffolk and Norfolk.

I remember one elderly lady being admitted over a bank holiday from Sheffield itself and it stuck in my mind as a student nurse was central to her story.
The patient was elderly. A much loved matriarch of a big Yorkshire family. She had fallen down some steps and had sustained damage to her cervical vertebrae. 
It was a catastrophic injury, with no chance of survival as the resulting paralysis was encroaching on her ability to breathe and long term ventilation was not viable given the lady’s age and premorbidities . 
Usually such patient’s are cared for on intensive care or a suitable ward where they would be made comfortable and where the family could be supported. 

Because we were a spinal Injury ward we were happy to take her. 

The student nurse, who was called Michael, was a third year student with little general experience , but he was keen and wanted to “ take” the patient with support from me, so we worked together as she arrived.
From the get go I could tell he was nervous, especially as the patient arrived with all of the bells and whistles of an acute patient. She was flat on her back, on a scoop stretcher, with neck brace, monitor leads, flashing beeps and high flow oxygen everywhere.

I told the student our job was to “calm things down”, and before the family arrived that’s exactly what we did. We placed the old lady onto a hospital bed, ensured she was pain free and with instructions from the consultant who had interviewed the family at length, to let nature take its course.

Michael went white when he heard the instructions. He had never seen a withdrawl of treatment before, so I remember taking him to one side in the anti room to the side ward to prepare him.
I explained that the patient and her family were aware of what was going to happen. She had already been given an infusion from a syringe driver which was reducing her pain and anxiety and I had already checked with her entire family would be up with as soon as we he’s settled her. 

She was conscious but very weak, and time was of the essence .

Michael said he was ready, and together we removed the patient’s hard plastic neck brace and we washed her face and combed her hair and sat her up a little until she could see around her. 
At every little job the patient gave a tiny mouthed thank you and I could see Michael was near tears at every turn.
I gave him a few more gentle instructions and after a short conversation preparing them , I let the lady’s husband  and sons and daughters into the room.
They moved slowly around the bed, like sleepwalkers and I asked Michael to pass me the noisy oxygen mask from her face so she could see her family and they could see her. The noisy oxygen suddenly hushed the room, which immediately became less clinical and more personal .

“ My Old Girl” the husband said gently and he kissed his wife after asking permission from us two.
we slowly  stepped back into a corner.
and let the family surround her.
And Michael cried quietly to himself, as he watched 

Our Job is to make this as easy as we can” I told him. 
It won’t be long. 
And it wasn’t .
Almost two hours later she had peacefully passed away. Free of the bells and whistles of intensive care.
I taught Michael the tricks of giving the family little jobs to do when they watched and waited, to brush her hair, to wet her lips to talk to her when they thought she wasn’t hearing them,  jobs that gave them a little purpose in a nightmare moment and made sure he took in trays of tea with a teapot full, so someone in the room would have a job to do the pouring.

I taught him to assess the patient condition only if she needed medication to ensure her comfort and after it had all concluded , he accompanied the family to the car park in a final show of respect and solidarity.

We laid the patient out together too. And I asked him how he was feeling when the room was empty and almost ready for the next patient .

He looked tired and much older than his twenty five years

I’m not sure I want to be a nurse today” he said 
But he came to the Dog And Partridge on a triplet Lane with the ward staff for a drink when we had finished 
And where we all got a little drunk.


Indiana Jones and the Family From Wales

 

Harrison Ford is 80
Fuck me, when did that happen?
I notice he’s leading the charge in another Indiana Jones movie
This time with the glorious Phoebe Waller Bridge in tow
I’ve asked Gorgeous Dave if he wants to go and see it next week
It’s a big boys film  for sure.
In 1984 my entire family dressed up in evening gowns and dinner jackets to go and see the “Premier” 
Of Indiana Jones and The Temple Of Doom
It was showing in the local Scala Cinema and we booked tickets in the balcony section much to the confusion of the ladies that ran the cinema on that night.
We even got in the local paper 

Me and friend Nia

A few months later and buoyed up with our silliness we all dressed up as cowboys and Indians and went to watch a local version of Oklahoma to support my uncle and aunt who were in the chorus 



And Just Like That




 The first episode of the second season of And Just Like That aired last night and it was a bit messy if truth be told. Messy as the original series was all about four white women and now it is about seven diverse race and sexuality women.
There’s a lot to cram in so to speak.
I’m still a fan, and like season 1 all will settle down again after a running start with too many breasts on show.

I popped my elder sister’s Birthday gift. She is away for her birthday on the 28th. We chatted for a while and I was pleased that she said that recently I had been looking more relaxed, more centred more myself than I had for a long time, and I have to say that I agree with her. 
It’s taken me almost five years to the day to resolve myself to the ending of my marriage. 
Some people would say that’s too long, but covid and lockdown coupled with the fact that my ex never told me why the marriage ended for him all were factors that prolonged the healing process.
Couple that too, with the mistake I , like many hurt people make, and that is I looked to the person that hurt me the most to make me feel better.
And that never really happens , 
Not in real life
My sister picked up on an inner lightness 
Something insidious and gradual 

Shit, I’ve just noticed that the RNT have issued more strikes in July. One day clashes with me going to London to take Nu to see La Traviata at the Royal Opera House…
Smile and glide
Smile and glide…there will be ways around this…..hey ho

It’s raining ever so gently and Roger is sitting by the back door watching everything.
Dorothy is asleep in her reading chair and Mary is curled up on a kitchen chair with one ear pricked.
The patio plants make the kitchen bright and cheerful, and the sweet peas mirror that mood as the climb next to the blue, firework agapanthus 

I’m meeting my sister in law for lunch , then will have a sleep before night duty
And just like that it will be tomorrow

All is pretty well with the world today


 


Kitchen Table

 


I’ve been sorting my finances out today. 
That means changing my phone providers, sorting a better deal with broadband and getting rid of my landline. I’ve streamlined some accounts and cancelled unwanted frivolous items such as Disney + ( which was a total indulgence as it kept me up to date with the Walking Dead) 
With interest rates going up yet again it seemed like a prudent thing to do today.

I had a row with a Nazi Cyclist today too who rang his bell so insistently on the Dyserth Walkway for me and another woman and a dog to get out of his way that we barely had time to gather our thoughts. Dorothy got flummoxed and walked directly in front of him which caused more shouting on his part and he was most upset when I reminded him it was a walkway and not an official cycle track
fucking dog owners!” he yelled
Nazi Lycra wearer” was my robust reply
A good shout sometimes clears the tubes

Hey ho

And Old Faces 2

 

This afternoon, I loaded Bluebell up with cold drinks, flower show programmes and a watering can full of water and set off to publicise the Show.
It was hot but with the windows open, bearable. and only a few seconds drive East of Trelawnyd I stopped at Marion to take my first programme to Irene Murray.
Now Irene is a force to be reckoned with. With the late Sylvia and Gladys Jones  , she was the third matriarch that co ran the original show, and did so with a keen eye and no messing,and I wanted her to know that the show was returning soon and she was tickled pink and rather moved that it was. 

I left her to drive to our neighbouring village of Trelogan to catch up with Graham, my first potential vegetable entrant. He’s a delightfully friendly chap who sings in the village choir but he is also a magnificent grower of vegetables which I was privileged to see in his crammed polytunnel this afternoon.
Getting his veg into any show is a real boon for any Flower and Produce Show and I was excited to have him aboard, especially as his carrot tops were in a word, MAGNIFICENT !!!
Onwards and upwards! 
Next stop was Terry, my old Quiche nemesis from my early days in the village. 
We had gone head to head in the baking classes for years with the plaudits swinging both ways each time entered. 
With some old testosterone reignited he’s agreed to enter the Quiche, Boiled Fruitcake and Scone classes in a misjudged attempt to topple me
We both couldn’t help grinning at each other
old Times “ he said with a chirp.

My next stop was the beautifully rustic Still House , just off Well Street and I was glad that Ma Manley was at home, for I wanted to encourage her into our arts classes as she will be running the new arts and crafts club in the autumn , a club I’ve already asked to join .
Ma Manley is a lovely woman with a long flowing white hair and a style that shrieks local hero/ Whiskey Galore/ Earth Mother
I hope I’ve won her over.

Tomorrow I have more characters to catch up with, so I just had time to water the new planters at the Church gate, the ones donated to the TCA by Jackson’s, before getting home for tea,
It’s been a good day

A photo of some of the original Flower Show Committee 
Irene is third from left
Terry is fifth .