EOL

 The hospice acronym for someone who is actively dying is EOL 

END OF LIFE

It signifies that the full force of hospice care is in progress 

I’m listening with interest, discussions around the Assisted Dying Bill which will debated in Parliament on the 29th of November. 

The bill, in its many forms is presently working in parts of Australia, Canada, The Netherlands and  Spain and the British legislation will be little different as the patient involved has to be actively dying within a sixth month period, a time limit which may cause disagreement between the two doctor referees. 

In my view a number of patients who want the  chance of self determination will essentially not be given it. The MND patients, the  MS and the head and Spinally injured. 

Many of these conditions are not life limiting of six months and therefore will not qualify.

I remember my brother who had motor neurone disease reviewing his chances of dignitas

It was all too much for him

It overfaces many.

Good EOL and palliative care should be a priority 

Everyone should have access to hospice care

And hospices should be financially supported to take all appropriate referral's

Assisted dying , if it arrives will help a few

But it will fail many others who want it but don’t qualify its strict criteria. 

I am saddened by their losses.

 

Home Front

I know I had a great uncle who served in Burma during the war. 

I forget his name , but he was a good looking man with a killer moustache.

I think he survived the war,

My father was an airman in the RAF and navigated Lancasters. 

I’m still not sure if his war record

My family , from their own oral histories, fought the war more on the home front.

My Grandmother , mother and Uncle Jim were bombed out of their house on Louisa Street, Everton in the Blitz and were sheltering under an upturned sofa as the windows blew in and an unexplored flying torpedo lodged itself under the kitchen floor. 

During the May Blitz my great grandfather was killed when their family shelter took a direct hit. A shelter my Grandmother and Mother was running for before the bombs proceeded them.

During all of this horrendous time my Grandfather was a fireman in the Auxiliary Fire Service, who spent days and days fighting the fires in dockland Liverpool.

You can understand just why my family moved to the quiet and prejudice of North Wales.

Tonight I was late for work. Bun was up the bookcase waving paws at Roger who was fed up with the excitement. Suddenly a black shape the side on an envelope fell from the shelves onto the floor 

It was my Grandfather’s Fire Badge which he saved from his wartime uniform nearly 80 years ago. It is the only physical memory I have of my Grandfather

Funny how it turned up today,

 

Christmas

 I have from the 21st of December to the 28th off.

This is unheard of to have all of Christmas off work.

A modern day miracle. 

When I was a ward manager invariably I would do the late shift on Christmas Day

But then extra shifts would creep in, holes would appear to be plugged and before you knew it, I might have Boxing Day off after working Christmas Eve and Christmas night .

Last year I did a long day Christmas Day and said rather vociferously that that was it, no more Christmas Shifts for me.

7 days over Christmas how wonderful

My octernagerian counsellor , in her sing song voice asked me what I had planned. 

My supervisor promptly gave her opinion that I enjoy it with people,

So far I am spending Christmas Day with family 

So the first time in years I have a dilemma 

What am I going to do the rest of the time?

You sound like a fucked up 63 year old gay Bridget Jones! 

Was one of my friend’s responses when I asked him,

So I brought this helpful comment up at my counselling session 

Who is Bridget Jones?  she asked 

 A Neurotic weight obsessed unlucky in love 30 something I explained 

My counsellor kept quiet.

So what am I going to do over Christmas ? When the love lorned swap jumpers with holes in them?

Answers on a postcard please 

Burrito

The clay family regard the kitchen with disdain

It’s a mess

I’m sat contemplating what to do about it,

Hiding behind my blog….at the kitchen table

Since the twins arrived the cottage resembles a war zone

I saw my friend Polly for brunch

She was a doctor at the hospice and we see each other every few months for a chat and a catch up

She is bright and intelligent and warm.

We ate a dry brunch fry up at Bryn Williams whch needed some sauce to it, like it always does but still I said nothing to the waiter.

It suddenly felt like Christmas , after she had gone and I walked the dogs down Colwyn Bay Promenade like people do so much on Boxing Day. 

Diverting from the talk in hand I’ve been stalking one of the lisping choir members , he’s a delightfully animated  character ( see  1.58 into the video)

I’ve been wasting time watching his hips roll, he looks a Happy soul

Ok the washing up needs doing!!!!

My clay family frown at my frivolity and they glare

I stop stalking Geraldo and contemplate the cat nip stuffed toy my sister ann gave the twins only yesterday.

It lies in at least 14 tufts on the kitchen floor.

Geraldo rolls his hands and sings lustily about a Spanish donkey in my mind

But alas, the cottage needs a clean 

Hey ho

 

Oil over water

 I’m a sucker for a kind word.

They go a long way with people and oil the choppy waters of everyday life.

They cost nothing either.

I had a discussion about examining the motivations in people with my supervisor yesterday.

And the conclusion stood

Some people can be nasty arseholes at times

Period

Others can have motivations so hidden and ingrained that a wizard couldn’t unearth them 

People are complex and chaotic 

Seldom are we linear

 

Frame of Reference

 In supervision I am always being reminded to see things from my clients frame of reference, ie from their unique perspective. 

It’s a hard skill to develop and to learn as we all analyse and unpick people on the hoof so to speak. I’m trying to view Trump’s apparent victory from the American voters point of view.

Most want more money in their pay checks, cheaper prices in the shops and a life free of the anxiety of illegal migration 

Not that much different to the aspirations of the voters in the UK Brexit vote of 2016 me thinks.

I’m sad that Trump got in again. 

He’s a liar, and a buffoon. 

And America wanted you

Sing For Water - Ise Oluwa.mov

Five years ago exactly I was going through the worst time of my divorce life

And five years ago I had joined a choir 

This song was one we were being taught my Jamie and his 1940s RAF moustache 

And the choir couldn’t quite catch the power or the harmony

So Jamie told us to sing it one last time , in the cold village hall in Gwaenysgor , and as we did  

He turned the lights off in the hall

Devoid of self consciousness, our choir sang beautifully 

And when the lights flickered on most of the choir was crying 

I will always remember that moment  as it pulled me through the worst time in my life 

And it’s a time that should be celebrated like Christmas 

Trelawnyd @ Night

 

I have slept most of the day 

The virus’ worst day 

I took the Welsh out for a proper walk late on

It was well after 9 pm 

This never happens now.

But they needed the outing.

Every house I knew had a light on, curtains drawn  . Mrs Trellis the only exception, as she was playing her piano at the window, her tongue out of the side of her mouth in concentration .

The Randa’s cottage had flowers in the windows as always and the Hoose’s, Smith’s, Richard’s, Ackroyds, ,Velvet voiced Linda’s cottages were little pools of colour and light in the dark and the cold . 

I saw no living person , not one apart from Trellis 

But I felt their lives behind glowing windows and solar light in the garden. 

Even the pub looked quiet and closing and no one except me and Mary ( Roger typically missed it) saw a large vixen totter up High Street , her head held high 

We walked home and the Turpin house and Margaret’s bungalow on London Road looked cheerful, and welcoming as did the the little semicircle of houses on Rhodfa Arthur. 

Someone has hung solar fairy lights around the lytchgate of the Church 

( Islwyn?) 

And the walk home was gently illuminated by Christmas lights 

How sweet