The Point Of Death

Has anyone out there ever had a near death experience ?
I'm interested to know.
This morning I talked to Mrs Trellis about a patient of hers that nearly died giving birth.
After the emergency was all over, the woman recounted that she had seen " a light" during the worst time of her collapse , a light which was surrounded by relatives and friends long dead and gone.
It's a stereotypical account of the near death experience I think.

The Prof nearly died when in his twenties. He was gassed by carbon monoxide. He experienced no weird sensory event or spiritual enlightenment at the time , just a bad headache and a nicely pink face so typical of an over abundance of  the gas.
I nearly drowned when I was 10. It was in a swimming pool in Loret del Mar in 1972. I remember little of the event except being very calm with my arm thrusting out of the water above my head. A passing man pulled me out of the pool and left me sitting by myself on the hot tile surround.
The only emotion I had at the time was of embarrassment.

I have dealt with many seriously ill people who have eventually survived a near death event, but I have have never heard one admit that something spiritual happened to them at that crucial point where life and death mingle.

So has anyone out there know of such experiences?
Please share them with the group
I would be interested to know

Making Money

Half of the Trelawnyd Flower Show Committee

After much, MUCH debate the Flower Show Committee have finally agreed what we're are going spend our monies on this year.

• We will pay for the coach for the village Friendship Group's Christmas outing! 
• We shall cover the cost for new linens for St Michael's Church
• We shall contribute £250.00 to the village conservation group for Summer plants
• We shall buy a new clock for the Memorial Hall and will offer to replace the existing water geyser in the kitchen which is knackered
• We shall also offer to purchase new crockery for the hall

I love our committee, they may have taken bleeding hours to make a decision about spending money but when I told them that Sandra C from the village needed help with her fund raising Christmas Fayre, to a man they volunteered to run the refreshment table. 

Mind The Gap

I have just experienced a rather embarrassing incident in Marks and Spencers

Had just collected some items ( small packet of cocktail sausages, one packet of crab sticks, a reduced calorie pasta bake in tomato sauce  and a small loaf) and was approaching the self service tills when I had to negotiate a man in a wheelchair who was part blocking the entrance.
The man ( who was a bilateral amputee) was arranging some his shopping on his stumps as his wife bagged up the rest, so thinking I was slinkier than I am, I squeezed past to go to the free till beyond.
However ( and there's always a fucking however) the pocket of my trackie bottoms caught on the right handle of his wheelchair and as I swept past I spun him around like baby in one of those walkers on wheels.
Now bilateral amputees by very nature of their surgery remain rather top heavy, so it was only by pure luck that his wife managed to catch him as he almost bounced over the side of the chair, dropping a box of eclairs and various "meal deal for 10  pounds items" onto the floor.
Still attached to the wheelchair, I did that strange half hopping,half falling thing,as rather too much arse buttock was revealed to the good shoppers of Prestatyn before my elasticated waist twanged back into place with a loud " SNAP" and I shouted out a rather strange expletive of " Hell's Teeth"

The apologies were just about as embarrassing as the event

Halloween is over, the animals race to eat the pumpkin's insides

The Walking Dead Episode 2

A new leader who is doing better than our Rick! 

At last The Walking Dead had a balanced and pragmatic leader of souls . Ezekiel (Kahary Payton) is an actor, and a former zoo keeper who parades a tiger like a pet and speaks in Shakespearean tones in way of providing a larger than life persona ........but he really seems in charge of a post apocalyptic community with some sense and balance and insight which bloody well makes a change! . Our heroes Morgan and the ever wonderful Carol have taken refuge in Kingdom, and Ezekiel has the clear measure of both.
I thought I would hate the new community storylines.....but in fact I am loving them .
My favourite episode so far

Fox Chapel District

It's Halloween and so I should dig deep and share a ghost story should I not?
Well I have not ghost story to share but I do have an odd little tale of coincidence
I love a story of coincidence.

Around 26 years ago I found myself on a specialist six month work course at the Spinal Injury Unit in Southport. It was expected that for part of that course, I  was to organise an elective placement somewhere else and after weeks of organising I was lucky enough to wangle work experience in  the US, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be precise. Much of my experience centred upon the spinal injury rehabilitation hospital in Harmarville.
Like many rehab facilities, Harmarville was located out in the sticks, so to get to and from my lodgings which were back in the City, I was provided with a volunteer driver, who happened to be a very elderly black guy called Norm. Norm insisted that I sit in the back of his large black car, and so I( and many others)  was reminded of the movie Driving Miss Daisy when we turned up at any event. The film had only just opened in cinemas that summer.
Anyhow I digress.

Fast forward a decade or so to rural Lincolnshire, to an antiques emporium at a former RAF station to be precise. In a dusty, junk filled room, I spied an old map with art deco writing in a battered frame and on a whim bought it. It looked American, in period with the look of our former house , and it filled a spot in the hall.

The map travelled with us to Trelawnyd and until recently it has graced the wall on the upstairs landing, more or less unseen by all.

You may recall that recently I painted the living room, hallway and landing, and after this, I rearranged the paintings in the cottage and moved the map to it's present position by the front door.
There , I looked at it again with fresh eyes.

The map, I noticed , had small illustrations on it. A golfer in plus fours, a hunting hound, a whole series of huntsmen and women  in full livery, and written in the right hand margin in faint deco script was the name Harmarville.

I looked closer, and spied a road called Fox Chapel Road and I suddenly recognised where the map was of. Of all of the places in the world that  a 1930s map could have been from, I had bought an old map of the very place I had worked two decades before!
The map was of one very small far suburb of the city of Pittsburgh. A suburb where the Harmarville Rehab unit was to be built some fifty years later.

The Face At The Window

The Prof is asleep under a warm blanket on the couch

I have just hollowed out a pumpkin

Transvestite Vampires

Our vicar covers three parishes. Trelawnyd, the much larger village of Dyserth and the tiny hamlet of Cwm ( Pronounced " Come")
Every year, to raise funds for Cwm's minuscule village hall  a local woman ( who happens to be the daughter in law of Sylvia our previous Flower Judge secretary ) holds a murder mystery supper night. 
The format is sort of full proof. Eight locals ( including the vicar!) play the parts of the cast and read out their lines with varying amounts of skill and acting ability. Clues are given to who is the murderer, as the paying guests ( some fifty of us) make notes, buy raffle tickets drink varying amounts of wine and have supper.
It's old fashioned and hokey but rather good fun, so on Friday we invited my sister and her husband to come with us this year and the evening started as it meant to go on by the appearance of an elderly man who was smothered in lipstick , dressed as a vampire and who was carrying a woman's handbag.
You have to be there to understand the gist of it all.
Anyhow it turned out that a rather dreadful actress who went by the character name of Ellie Gant ( elegant....... geddit?) was the killer and I won a bottle a putrid aftershave in the raffle.

I am going to approach Jason the affable despot , to see if we could hold something similar in our village hall....he likes murders, and serial killing....oh and he's a good little actor!

I'm Carving our Halloween pumpkin today! 

Thought of the day

An Apology

Someone I know, came out to me as gay recently.
She dropped the fact into the conversation as causally as you like, but both of us knew it was done anything but casually.
I picked the information up carefully.
I will say no more about her, it's not my place to
But I was asked ( eventually) how I coped with bigotry or discrimination in the workplace.

I told her this story.
Many years ago now I was the nurse representative in a weekly rehabilitation multidisciplinary meeting. Present was a cross section of the great and the good. 2 medical consultants, a social worker, a consultant psychologist, junior doctors, a physiotherapist, occupational therapist and a student nurse in training . Every professional knew the other very well and the forum was often a lively but honest collection of minds.
As we were wrapping up the meeting one consultant ( a man I admire to this day) made an off the cuff remark about a general discussion of being disappointed as a parent by one of your children. Unthinkingly he shared that the ultimate disappointment would be for him, if one of his children came out gay.
The psychologist sitting opposite to me opened her eyes very wide and gave me a look, as did several of the other staff, but as the consultant went on, I said nothing, got up quietly, with my papers and walked out of the room.
I needed to process what I had just heard.

I wasn't angry but I was disappointed and moments later , as I stood at the nurses station with a good half dozen staff, the consultant appeared in front of us.
" I need to speak to you" He said to me carefully
" Go ahead" I told him as all of the staff pretended to be doing things just within earshot.
He indicated with his head that I follow him towards my office but I didn't move and said
" We can talk here"
I wondered what was going to be said , so I was totally surprised when he  unexpectedly gave me the most eloquent and moving apology I have ever received in my life.

Apparently after I had left the room, his fellow consultants and others had rounded on him.

There was a reason that I remembered this event to my friend.
Not only was it the only " discrimination problem" I ever experienced in my entire career,
It was one that I didn't have to battle myself.
I had a whole raft of people behind me.

Learning To Be Kind

I heard an interesting phrase today when a hospital visitor was talking about a poorly patient.
" She taught me how to be kind" the woman said.
I wanted to know what she meant by the statement, so I asked her
" When I was a girl" she explained " she went out of her way to teach me fun things. She taught me to knit and to sew and to cook...her kindness made me want to be kind back"

This got me thinking on my journey home.
Can we taught to be kind.? 
I suddenly thought of a time at school when I had just entered sixth form.
The few friends that I possessed had already left school, so as a shy teenager, I was even more isolated in my chosen A level classes of Geography and Biology where numerous classes of sixth formers were lumped together in antisocial gangs and factions .
I spent great chunks of my time alone and even entering a class would  fill me with social dread and angst, so it was common for me to pick a desk at the back of the class so I could effectively disappear from view.
In my Geography class, from the second or third day, I was joined at my desk by a cheerful boy called Tim. We didn't know each other, but he sought me out and remained as resolutely good natured and friendly as I remained quiet and rather shy throughout the next two years .
We were not friends, as I never met up with him outside that one class, but he always made a beeline for me keeping me company and entertained during explorations of Brazil and the long days studying cuestas and Ox bow lakes.
Tim wasn't my real friend, he had far too many friends of his own,
But he was kind.
He sat next to me because he was kind.

Hunt For The Wilderpeople

 New Zealand is not generally known for it's film industry, so after hearing that the quirky indie movie Hunt For The Wilderpeople had done so well at it's home country box office, I decided to give it a go.
Set generally in the Maori populated rural bush, the story sees troubled, obese teenager Ricky ( Julian Dennison) literally being palmed off on childless farmers Bella (a delightful  Rima the Wiata) and her bad tempered husband Hec (Sam Neill) by burnt out child welfare officer Paula ( Rachel House) .
Ricky is an angry orphan, obsessed with rapping culture and  gangsters, but his defences are gradually worn down by Bella's curious warmth and rather black humour even though Hec remains stand offish and cool.
When Bella unexpectedly dies foster dad and teen reluctantly join forces to embark on a strange " True Grit " journey into the bush, pursued by the police, an obsessed and angry Paula and a set of huntsmen.
It is, what it is, namely a rather sweet fairy tale of two lost souls who find each other and credit must be given to a grizzled Sam Neill who is happy to let his rotund co star hog all of the best one liners.
Having said this, as charismatic as Dennison undoubtedly is, with his spirited haiku renditions and gangster jargon, it is important to note that he is not your typical child actor, and does,  perhaps lacks, the emotional range needed to portray the more pained aspects of the boy's character.

Having said this, the movie is a comedy, and the cast do deliver a whimsically sweet story which pleases even though occasionally it dives into slapstick now and then.

A Moan

This is a moan.
And not one I will apologise for.

In one hour
I will monitor oxygen saturation levels, take blood to assess arterial blood chemistry and make sure the patient's entrotracheal tube is situated appropriately.
I perform tracheal suction and note all settings on the ventilator are written down carefully..
Measurements of heart rate, rhythm, blood pressure, blood sugar, central venous pressure are monitored and infusions of insulin , noradrenaline, potassium and fluids are titrated accordingly.
There are three infusion pumps and six syringe drivers all working together.
Antibiotics have to be retrieved, checked, made up and given.
All fluids entering the patient via vein and nasogastric tube are measured carefully
Everything leaving the patient is monitored too.
Pupils are checked for a reaction with a pen torch and sedation levels assessed.
Visiting family are supported and a plan of care discussed .
The nurse looking after the man in the next bed is helped to turn her patient.
Another nurse asks me to check their drugs before they can be given.
I have not even started to look if paperwork such as the moving & handling assessments or the nutritional audit has been completed and I need to organise help to turn my patient in the next hour.
I also need to brush my patient's teeth but as yet have not had the time to do so.

All this in one hour, of an eleven and a half hour shift.

The day before Yesterday, a chirpy electrician fixed our water heater. The part he needed cost about 25 quid
His invoice for part and labour was £82. It took him an hour to drive to the wholesalers to retrieve the part, fix it and have an animated chat about his bad back.
Don't get me wrong I was grateful he came so quickly.

Winnie was in the vets literally a couple of minutes. She had a painkiller and an assessment
£40.00 quid! Again I was grateful for the input.

The electrician's labour cost ...fifty pounds for an hour's work?
The vets? .................................Thirty pounds perhaps for five minutes.
A band 5 nurse on intensive care? .........£14 an hour.
14 pounds!
Go figure

Winnie's First Trip To The Vets

On the way to the vets this morning

Winnie fell off the bed this morning and banged her mouth on the ancient floorboards of our bedroom   floor.  It sounded as though the roof had come in but she did nothing more than half knocking out one of her stubby canines. Winnie seemed unconcerned with the whole thing even though the tooth hung over at a crazy angle and after a few minutes of trying to free it
I thought it prudent to take her to the vets.
I need not have bothered for as we sat in the crowded  waiting room, she nonchalantly spat out the offending tooth in front of an over friendly jack Russell.

It was Winnie's first trip to the vets, and as usual she took the whole thing in her stride.
It was the Spanish vet who was running the clinic and she took one look at Winnie's over serious face and lisped " Is she aggress-ive ?" 
Winnie opened up her mouth to show the vet her bleeding gum.
" Help yourself " I told the vet, " she won't bother you "

Bulldogs intrigue people. 

With their over serious faces that can effectively mask any emotion , they often wrong foot people that cannot read the more subtle signs that flag up bulldog happiness.

Old Bulldogs don't generally wag their stumpy tails in greeting. 

They don't lower their heads, or pull forward in a playful acquiescence when they want to say hello.

They just stand, and they watch, and they snort like bullocks do when they meet you at a farm gate

I love watching the public reaction to Winnie when we go walking along the local public walk and cycle way, for it's very like watching a tense gunman standoff from a very superior Western. 

Winnie will amble alone and at her very own pace.

When she spies a stranger off in the distance. She stops for a moment with her head held high and she will stare at the figure carefully. 

This can be somewhat disconcerting to those of a more nervous nature.

Then, rather slowly she will line herself up with the stranger, and stop again, her change of position meaning that the stanger's path, if continued, will coincide with exactly with hers.

It's this behaviour that gives her the look of a gunslinger.

Think Yul Brynner from Westword with Buster Keaton's face and you'll get where I'm coming from. 

In the past more intimidated walkers have become all a bit of a dither with the thought of a confrontation so now I am in the habit of calling out " the old bulldog is friendly" when people appear. The word " old" seems to placate nerves more than the word "friendly" and the subsequent crossing of paths when seemingly miserable bulldog strains her head up to a stranger to be petted or preferably kissed, always feels rather sweet

The Walking Dead ( spoilers)

For seasons now humanity has taken a true bashing in The Walking Dead.
Even Rick's group, now devoid of the moral compasses of Hershel, Dale, Deanna and Tyreese and with Maggie and Glen incapacitated by pregnancy, is finding it hard to keep a civilized community going in a world filled by fortified townships ruled over by leaders with their own agendas and way of managing a frightened new world.
The new baddie in season 7 is a real psychopath. He is also clever and uses proven psychological and physically terrorizing ways to control his environment.
Negan is modern day ISIS personified, and in that way, his retribution on " Team Rick" with his barbed wire baseball bat  is even more sickening than it could have been. 
Terror is king, it would seem.....its parallel with the middle east's medieval war all too apparant
And It's all too much.....
Having said this Jeffrey Dean Morgan is quite amazing as chilling and psychologically savvy Negan

The Walking Dead, is essentially an adventure story and adventure stories should be entertaining.
Overkilling two lead characters in such a bleak, violent way is not quite entertainment...but it was bloody powerful television
We shall see where season 7 goes eh?
" suck my nuts" 

Monday, Monday

I'm too busy to blog today.
Workmen have to be organised, revalidation paperwork for of my nursing qualification completed ( we nurses have to justify our practice by evidence and pay 120. £ a year to work after we do!)
Albert has the shits after eating a dodgy mouse and the water heater is on the blink again
Hey ho
The Walking Dead  is on later...perhaps I can have a big smile then......perhaps not"

In the meantime

Snippet

At 4pm Mrs Trellis could be seen tottering through the village holding a heavy saucepan.
She was somewhat red faced and puffing like a steam train when I passed her on the opposite footpath of the main road
" Is the Prof in? " she gasped " I've made you both a rice pudding"

The Affable Despot

I know that some people out there think that the characters I often describe in Going Gently do not, in fact exist! Mrs Trellis, Pat the animal helper, Harmonica, Gay Gordon and fat Mary....I have often had a barbed comment outlining that they are, in fact, a product of my imagination
I guess I can't blame people......there are always disbelievers wherever you go.

Last night, Claire, the wife of affable despot Jason, facebooked that she had been married now 9 years.
She posted this photo which I asked to share, as I know he has quite a following .....

See......people....real people DO exist in Trelawnyd!
Hey ho

Wedgie

The Prof was in a strangely uncharacteristic playful mood today
When I bent down in the bread aisle of Waitrose
He grabbed the band of my underpants
And in front of a dozen astonished shoppers
Gave me a huge and exceedingly painful wedgie ! 

Travelling Alone

Rachel has impressed me.
The thought of travelling alone  around a vast country like Russia, would have filled me with paralysing  dread.  even the thought of it has me sweating like a Hooker in church! So the fact that she is presently crossing the frozen wastes by train in nothing but a fur hat and the faint smell of vodka fills me with awe.
I couldn't do it.

I have only been away by myself once.
Years ago, after one of several messy break ups with a psycho boyfriend, I took myself off into Sheffield city centre in order to buy a vacuum cleaner. ( like you do) I ended up buying a cheap ticket to Seattle and just a few days later, I took myself off to the city of fish, clouds, rain and frazier without really knowing just why I was going.

It did me good for Seattle is a friendly city.
I mooched around the harbour and the antique shops, drank copious amounts of coffee, had a wet and rather eerie trip on the Puget Sound Ferry and visited the cinema time and time and time again.
I talked to people daily, had a chance encounter with a Japanese/American lesbian called Hisoka who gave me a gift of Alan Bennett's book " Talking Heads" and I recharged my somewhat frayed psychi which had been battered somewhat by a relationship that was in essence ....shit.