Going Gently

Radio 4 Tim

I feel a bit in limbo at the moment
The paperwork needed before I can start in the hospice is still on going, and I am bursting to give my one month's notice at the nursing home.
Keeping busy is one thing
Moving on is another.
Mary and I met up with " radio 4 Tim" on our evening walk. He is the chap that bought the house next to Auntie Glad's and his post divorce Labour of love is to transport the old school back to its Georgian splendour. I call his Radio 4 Tim because he has a rich speaking voice which could give Richard Burton a run for his money.
It's like verbal chocolate, made deeper by illicit fags, smoked by the back door!

I'm quite sensitive to voices and in particular accents.
I miss the broad vowels and pace of the South Yorkshire way of speaking, and find the sharpness of the mish mash of the Welsh coastal accent rather grating as its part poor Welsh part merseyside and Lancashire .

I've just mooched today
Which is symptomatic of feeling in limbo land.
Oh I did buy a yellow cushion which matches nothing in the cottage at all.( I'm a sucker for Soft furnishings) which Winnie has taken a sudden liking to.
Mary is in season and is playing somewhat sexually with a rather bemused Albert

Tuesday Night is Choir Night !!

Not our choir but you get the gist

I met Gorgeous Dave at 9pm and after a very hard thirty five minutes he had won the babminton game 15/14.
Even he was knackered....so as you may expect I was practically ready to be sedated and ventilated.
He was impressed that I aim to get fitter by bike riding from this Thursday!
He offered his son's Cycle stabilisers as a support!
The rest of the 25 minutes on court , we sat and chatted about this and that.
I enjoy the talk as much as our game
" You look happier" he told me
" I am" I told him back.

Earlier this evening nearly a full complement turned up for choir.
Jamie, his 1940s RAF moustache and his husband had been away on a much deserved holiday and we all had missed our rehearsals much more than we had expected.
One of my fellow bases had a paper crown on his head for some reason and I was quite amused no one asked him why....I love the British way of ignoring the obvious !!

We grappled with the Croatian folk song Zbogom Moja which turned out quite beautifully then learned Ali Burns' When Love Had No Road ( see the above version ) and ended up singing to Jamie our own version of happy anniversary as he has been our choirmaster for 5 years.
I have seldom seen so much genuine affection shown by a group of middle class, mostly middle aged old pongos to one person since I watched the cast of the movie Cocoon moon over Steve Guttenburg

I felt my mobile phone vibrate that a message had come through just as I sort of mastered a tricky bit of Croatian , and I knew what it meant
My former father-in-law had died peacefully after a very short medical crisis .
I'd known him almost twenty years!
I got home after 10pm and found a couple jiggers of my holiday gin left in the fridge, and pouring a large one... with a smile I raised a glass to him
You were a gentle, sweet man, Richard Burton
You always treated me with kindness

But your joke telling was fucking shite!

My father in law and I circa 2007

Judith Rose

Sometimes a little gem of a piece of writing finds its way to you from out of the ether.
On a Monday The New York Times publishes readers stories which describe the city.
This piece has so much to say in just a few short lines.
I was rather moved by it

Dear Diary:

I was 19, fresh from my tiny hometown in rural Nova Scotia, visiting New York on my own for the first time.

While I was walking through Madison Square Park early one morning, I saw a young man with a bulldog coming toward me on the path.

Naïve and intimidated by the young man’s tattoos and grim expression, I kept my eyes on the ground as he got closer.

The bulldog sneezed.

“Bless you,” the young man said quietly.

— Emily DeWolfe

Vigil

Last night I worked with a doe eyed young woman who is about to embark on her student nurse training in University.
Our conversations lead us to the subject of the care of the dying and she showed considerable knowledge of the use of end of life pathways,associated protocols and research but had little practical knowledge and experience of what I think a nurse's role in the act of a vigil.

I listed of my nurse " rules" to her as we mopped and polished the day room

Be clear from the get go who you are and why you are there.Relatives are distressed and seldom are able to listen to long winded explanations and instructions. Give them permission to ask questions and to quiz you about what is happening.
Be calm and move slowly. Don't rush. Make sure the bedpace is orderly, clean and tidy. It sounds old fashioned and a bit twee but order and calmness breeds order and calmness
If the patient is monitored transfer the digital readouts with its waveforms and noise into sleep mode ( where the nurses at the nurse station can see the monitor readings but the family cannot)
Explain everything you do
Follow your protocols. They are their to maintain your patient's comfort and dignity. Many medications will combat the more distressing symptoms in the dying process, such as a " wet " chest or cerebral irritation.
Encourage breaks out of the vigil room, provide an overnight room to use if available and bring in regular drinks, water and food if possible. Provide teapots and hot water jugs as the process of tea making will give the relatives something to do. Allow family to help with personal cares if they wish to but don't push it if they decline.
Find out more about your patient ; often anecdotes and family stories can be shared at this time especially when the patient perhaps would have had a chronic condition which exhibited itself into a change of personality and abilities.
Be flexible . Pets, children and best friend Eddie who can't make visiting until 2 am must be catered for .
Be honest, often through experience you can judge when a patient is going to suddenly deteriorate but that be not always be the case. Patients can hang on for days
The dying process can affect personal and family dynamics considerably and conflicts can arise and quickly get out of control. Be sensitive to these, disappear when needed but be prepared to control the situation if needed. Anger is an emotion most readily mobilised in grief
Acknowledge the surreal nature of the situation and be aware that relatives can be affected deeply by the " normality " of life outside the vigil room.
Don't use euphemisms for death . Be clear and unambiguous in the use of your language.Be very sure that patient has actually passed away before you confirm it
Be kind....Explain that the patient may be able to hear a loved one's last comment even though they may be hypoxic or deeply sedated.
Be prepared for anything to happen. I have been slapped by one grieving wife and have had dozens of distraught traveller families force their way on a ward to show their respects.
At the end of your shift personally introduce the nurse taking over to the family. Don't rush this and say don't gong nice and positive about your colleague . This is especially important if you have worked alongside the vigil a long time

" I've never seen a dead body" my co worker admitted as soon as I had finished my speech

So I added number number 16...all ways support your junior and less robust colleagues

Urges

When I go to get my eyes tested I always get the urge to kiss the optician when he looks deep into my eyes .
It's a very strong urge
I almost pucker up as soon as I feel the smell of aftershave.
I can't be the only one
Surly

This morning I took the bike into Halfords and was supervised by Dom who had a ginger beard and an impressive sleeve tattoo.
Now I am not a lover of tattoos but his sleeve was an incredibly muted depiction of a koi carp amid flowers and it was so beautiful I had the sudden urge to stroke it as he entered my details into his computer.

Of course I didn't
but I would have loved to

Its a quiet day today, and it's sunny.
I am working tonight, and I have not given my notice in as yet as I am waiting for my official start date at the hospice.
I am about to cut the lawn.
Trendy Carol has just passed in an impressively billowing pair of snakeskin print trousers!
I asked her if it was crocodile!
what do I know?
Laurie (the soft spoken Scot) stopped me this morning to say that he was thrilled to get a mention on the blog. Him and his family worked so very hard to put on the folk festival this weekend so I told him it was the least I could do...Ive had such a nice weekend I want to maintain the momentum of it all.
So apart from some unsociable nursing shifts I have organised a lot over the next two weeks. Badminton with Gorgeous Dave,theatre with my sister, cinema with a friend, choir x2 , a bike ride ( the bike is returned to me on Thursday!) a church singalong! and a two day visit to Sheffield when I have booked to see all my old friends for tea, and supper and lunch and walks in the Botanical Gardens
hey ho
You have got to scratch an urge when they come...….

A Face Like Thunder

Last night I went out with some new friends to celebrate a birthday

It was a nice meal with an eclectic bunch of characters which included an Italian Professor doing medical research along the North Wales coast and a precocious but articulate 14 year old who found me terribly amusing!

The food and the company at the Erskine Arms in Conwy was delightful!

I got home late and fed Winnie and Mary hours past their dinner time

before walking them around the Churchyard with a lazy swagger

Albert wasn't happy at all

I had made him wait for his dinner too, and he had not eaten since early morning...

but as usual he followed us with a sudden bad tempered swagger and as we entered the lych-gate he jumped up on the wall and boxed my face with very angry paws

Cats always bear a grudge

worse than any gay man I have ever known

he sat there glaring at me an hour after he had finally eaten and sat next to me as I watched the 1952 film noir Movie On Dangerous Ground with a face like thunder
but he wouldn't even let me pet him

"The Greenland Whale".... and my scruffy people...

Hattie and I doing selfies

I've had the best of nights last night!!!

The folk weekend in Trelawnyd is something I've never done before, so I pulled up my bra straps and took myself off by myself to see what all the fun was about.
I had just bought myself a cider ( I never drink cider!!!) when a Scottish fiddle player Ryan Young and a guitar player Jenn Butterworth started a traditional duelling banjo type of set.
It was magical

I was transported immediately to that scene in Whisky Galore when Gordon Jackson's straight laced mother attended a ceiligh and as the music built in its intensity she drank the whisky left out on the shelf and enjoyed herself.
I downed another cider,...

As the pace of the fiddle increased, the crowd stamped their feet on the village hall's floor, and I stamped too, loving every minute of it, especially liking the experience as I recognised the crowd as " my people" , a few hundred scruffy bastards dancing and clapping under the felt bunting without guile and with a great deal of good humour

I saw lots of people I knew. Cameron, his mum and dad, The Manley's...Pippa ( who complained she could hear the harp!) and eventually met my fellow choir member Hattie who took me by the hand and told me I had to stand at the front of the crowd to listen to Sam Kelly and The Lost Boys who sang a collection of songs which included Cornish language ballads, Welsh and Irish foot tappers and a lovely Canadian Greenland Whale shanty.
After this Cameron's mum told me she had some news for the blog
She had a 5 foot foxglove in her garden
I told her I would photograph it today xx

The night finished around eleven after Cameron had bounced around dancing with a dozen others in
front of the stage and the air was cool and refreshing on the village green after the confines of the concert.
Hattie waved her goodbyes as I sat for a moment on the benches my Flower Show bought for the village to use some years ago now.
And I let the night's dew cool my face

And I thought......to myself ...with some slightly drunken pride....

I am home......

People Day

It's Friday morning and Winnie is noisily trying to retrieve a couple of rogue garden peas from under the kitchen cabinets
She has the nose of a blood hound and will not rest until anything edible is found and devoured .
I am late up today as I was at Samaritans on a night lift last night.
True to form I was stopped by the police on the way home.

It a " people " day today.
I called in to see how Jason and his heroic hand was doing only to left standing in a queue of small boys by his front door who I presumed were waiting to play with liv, Jason's youngest.
They weren't
After I had found out the " hand" news
Jason cheerfully piped up to the boys " Are you ready for a game of football?"
They had come around to play with him and not Liv
This amused me no end.

Mary and I stopped by the Green this morning to chat to village Elder Bryn. The conversation centred about the Folk festival weekend in the hall , to which I had been given a free pass to by the organisers
I had already chatted to Laurie, one of the organisers , who is a quietly spoken Scot who has nightmares controlling his floppy footed setter, Barney.
For months now, on a sort of ad hoc basis Laurie would knock on the lane window as he and Barney were passing and I would join him with the sanguine Winnie in tow. Together we would walk Indian file around the Churchyard and within minutes Barney would change from an over excited, defensively aggressive hound to a bored bulldog sidekick.
Dogs are at their most relaxed when following each other out on a walk, it's that wolf line mentality and I have found it is a trick that calms even the most aggressive of dogs .
Only a month or so ago , after Laurie had calmed down as much as Barney did I walk close by and give him Winnie's lead. He was absolutely gob smacked that the two dogs were stood side by side without trouble......of course his reduction of stress had a little to do with it all
First train the owner!
It's not rocket science

The new vicar ( who has the delightfully Blog positive name of Dot Gosling) is opening up the Church for a sing song next week.
I think she has pink streaks in her hair , a fact which has shocked at least one member of the congregation, but she's gone all progressive by flying the village with information and by asking for requests.
One of the congregation who lives in Rhodfa Arthur ( Rhodfa is Avenue in Welsh) asked me to go as she knows I can sing. liv Randa is doing one of the readings so I have already said I will go

I need to go
I am meeting my one Welsh gay mate Mave for lunch today and will need to iron a shirt as my best Walking Dead T shirt will just not do.

Mave comments here quite regularly and is a cross between Kenneth Williams and Joan Crawford with his pithy and filthy one liners.
Mind you Mrs Trellis is not adverse to a bit of gay banter. I saw her yesterday and she commented that it was London Gay Pride this weekend
" Apparantly there are a lot of hot pants being worn!" She said
I have no idea where she found that one out!

Hey ho

A Light Read

I'm going into the hospice to complete paperwork
But I thought coffee and some light reading was in order
Has anyone of you had this conversation?

Bluebell +

Yes that's Winnie trying to look invisible in the back

My soon to be ex husband has taken all the things from the cottage he wanted save for his bike which he has instructed me to get rid of.
It's a much better bike than mine and so in a fit of testosterone I went down to Halfords today to buy a new bike rack. I have the idea to have the bike fully serviced then use it with Mary in some sort of baby carrier
" is it easy to fit?" I asked the salesboy when he pointed to a box with two dozen separate parts in it
" Any moron could do it!" he chirped up helpfully
When I got home, neighbour sailor John smiled ruefully when I told him I was just about to assemble it
" Call me if you need a hand" he offered
He knows me and my lack of dexterity so well

But I did it myself I really did... And John's eyebrows bounced upwards in an impressive inverterted v when he spied my handiwork

Honesty

Perhaps a decade ago now I worked with a bit of a misery.
She was footloose and fancy free, had a career on the rise, and was ( and is ) an attractive woman with a sparkling smile.
But back then, she was clearly unhappy about something and like many the causation was hidden away unrecognised and nebulous.
A twelve hour shift became a bore when she was on
And her moans almost became a habit.
Now my relationship with her was( is) a good one , and I knew I could banter with her, and so with a smile and a lightness I told her I was only going to allow her ten moans per twelve hour shift.
A rationing of complaints
We laughed about it
But the message had struck home
She stopped moaning

Recently she referred to that bit of honesty
She's an Earth mother of three and couldn't be happier
But then, she admitted the moaning had become a norm

I am not sure what I'm trying to say here
I guess we all, at times need a mirror held up to us by a friend
But one that is held with affection and not with criticism

Promenading

At this time in Sitges I would be promenading alongside a thousand other Europeans in the still roast hot air of Northern Spain
Tonight, in Trelawnyd, it's still sunny with blue skies,
But it's pleasantly cooler, and few people are about.
Mary and I went out to Promenade .
With no choir in Gwaenysgor on the cards, we walked to the hall to listen to the Male Voice Choir at their professional rehursal. They were singing Elvis' Can't help falling in love with you rather gently and beautifully. A district nurse on a late visit walked out from the pensioner bungalows as I leant on the Hall wall.
She looked tired

I smiled to myself. When my family came to listen to my choir's concert the other night, my sister in law got the venue wrong and went to sit in with the male voice choir rehursal instead of ours.
The chattering Welsh singers were, I think, quite taken with their small audience of one!

Eve Randa was sitting in her bedroom window as we passed. She looked every inch the slightly bored pre teen that she is but she told me that her dad was doing ok.
I saw him today as I drove through the village. He was chatting to Animal Helper Pat.
She had had her hair done!

There is a folk concert in the village hall this weekend http://www.therecordjournal.co.uk/
I hope to go on Friday.
Two nuns in light grey habits stopped their car to allow us to cross the road by the school( I couldn't make it up) and as the sun dropped low over the West of the village lighting up the graveyard in a burst of yellow ,my red geraniums, planted out only a month ago, seemed to bloom robustly on the kitchen wall
A bit of Sitges in Wales I thought

Skid Marks

The dirty holiday clothes , sweaty skid marked shorts and the like are in the washer and I'm lighting the fire in order to have hot water for a nice long bath.
It's nice to be home.
The answerphone had five messages waiting for me when I got in
All but one unimportant , the hospice wants me to go in to sort out some paperwork.
The dogs were pleased to see me too.
George's death has unbalanced them somewhat.
I didn't sleep until 4.30 am, the late night flight home wrong footed me and now I feel groggy and a bit listless .
It feels cold
No choir tonight which is a shame
Jamie and his 1940s RAF moustache are on holiday too

Thank you to Yorkshire Liz for this gift, it was waiting for me when I got home

Bench

From my third floor balcony I have a lovely view of Sitges Promenade and Church
In a corner near the beach steps is a single rainbow bench
It's a favourite meeting place of couples, straight and gay.
I've watched many during my time here
Meet, kiss, laugh, and argue there

This morning the bench is empty

I go home today.

The sky is blue

Sunday

My family arrived in dribs and drabs over the past days and so with a final group of eleven souls ( the youngest being seven and the oldest 71) , the dinner table was noisy and animated to say the least.

I love these big, galloping, emotionally warm meals,

With their chatter and laughter that you can dip into and out of with non judgmental ease

Having said this I love the simple quiet solitary breakfasts too and this morning knowing the family will rise in staggered groups, I got up early to watch the other characters and to think

In Sitges there is a somewhat scruffy little square each corner of which has a bar.

Now each bar faces it's seats two by two, and each paring faces the opposite bar like seats in a theatre.

It's a square to watch the Promenaders

It's a square to watch the talent.

"a good natured meat market" as my sister-in-law described it

I went to the museum Del Cau Ferrat yesterday to look at the art exhibitions. It was cool and calm and quiet in the Baroque rooms with their blue walls and heavy woodwork and afterwards I sat in the shade of one of the many palms and ate a sweet crab and pineapple mix bought at a little supermarket with my fingers.

I am aware that I choose to pick up on the more whimsy part of this Spanish town, very much like how I prefer to pick up on the whimsy of the little Welsh village that I live in.

I make no apologies for this. Like anywhere, including Sitges the darker side of life lies only a hair's breath away.... with its sex and open relationship fun on line, dark rooms and very very late nights.....

I'm off to read a book on the beach

Hey ho

People Watching

I was out on a walk on the beach yesterday when a rather buxom black woman who was covered in what seemed like rather a lot of gold asked me if I could speak English.
She was sat on a low wall and looked in pain
" Do you know how to ring a taxi ? " she asked "I think I've broken my leg"
She wagged a rather large left leg at me
I told her I was nurse
Her ankle was swollen just a little but she let me prod it a little and I told her that I thought it was sprained
It's amazing what people allow you to touch if you say that you're a nurse!
" what do I do for that?" She asked , her anxieties reducing to almost normal"
" Rest, gin and ice!" I told her
She fist bumped me, which made me feel rather hip.

A house sparrow homed in on my breakfast this morning and was eating my scrambled egg when I returned to my table with coffee.
An old Belgium queen in an oversized straw hat at the next table looked shocked when I continued to eat it and wafted himself rather too energetically with a napkin in order to recover.

I love people watching

Bartomeu and Santa Tecia

Sitges wouldn't be Sitges if it wasn't for the Church of Saint Bartomeu and Santa Tecia.
I had a walk around it this morning and it's cool Baroque interior was a relief from the 32 degree heat outside.
It's been nice to amble. I've bought some books from a stall near the beach and some sort of chickpea dip, bread and grapes for lunch.
I was given a cruising friendly nod and smile by a big Scandinavian bear at breakfast
These are nice things to experience when sitting alone.

I am very mindful that a year ago, I was in Sitges but in a very different frame of mind.
It was a hard slog of a holiday where I was trying so hard to keep the grief of a broken relationship
under some sort of control and just walking around a place I knew so well as a couple was painfully melancholic .

Now I feel lighter.
Not whole again ( that will come when I start work and sort out the logistics of sorting a home out)
But certainly lighter.
It's been a tough year.
A crappy job, George and William, ill health, financial shocks, an emotional jacuzzi the size of one of Elton John's. strops , all have battered me down just as I pulled up one bra strap after another but with friends, family, bloggers, a touch of my grandmother's fortitude and a sense of humour which has slowly returned to its sarcastic best,
I do feel hopeful
Hopeful that the shit is, for the most part behind me

I am thinking all this as I sit in Church
Do gays have a patron Saint?
I wonder....anyhow I can hear the screams of the swifts as they circle us overhead and I remembered what I wrote about them last year when I visited

" ......it was sort of nice to sit by the Church in the setting sun and watch a thousand swifts soar around it's bell towers like a giant swarm of friendly bees."

I still like the analogy

Home

The green crocs have arrived
Within 3 minutes all is relaxation

Shedding

Apparently there is a "new" phenomenon around called shedding
This is where someone sees something that needs doing in their community and, well, just does it!
This sort of thing has been going on for years.....indeed village elder Islwyn, some ten years ago now , took it on himself to refashion, organise and upgrade the entirety of the new graveyard....a Herculean task in itself, and one he completed more or less single handed and in all weather.

Today, I had the nicer part of Shedding, as the weather is fine and the breeze on the village green just right in offsetting the humidity, I got stuck in with clearing weeds from the lavender path.
I noted a while ago that Bridget, (who runs the youth club ) had been planting out pots and borders on the green herself and as the weeds over the lavender had seriously got on my tits, I invested a hour to do something about them.
Not that I got much done.
Islwyn turned up with more stories in him than four editions of Aesop's fables, and Jason, bored with his sore hand came over for a chat .
I told him I would photograph him looking glum but he moved over to the benches so I could photograph him looking heroically into the middle distance.

That Fat Bastard!

In Wales we have an excellent " GP Out Of Hours " facility.
When your own doctor 's surgery is closed then your ring the number, get triaged by a nurse advisor and if appropriate given an appointment with an out-of-hours GP based at the local A&E
I rang the system at 7pm. Was given an appointment at 8pm . I was seen at 8.01 and was home with my antibiotics by 8.20
I know I am a good historian . I had already tested my urine and knew I had the start of an infection.
I also told the doctor what antibiotic suited me best.
But still the service is a good one.
The only down side is the fact that the out-of-hours waiting room is shared with the minor injury department of A&E .
Tonight the average waiting time for that department is a whopping 7 hours!
I sat down in that shared waiting room for not even a minute until I was called in to see the doctor.
and it was too much for one poor soul who slapped his thigh in frustration
" Fucking hell that fat bastard has only just come in and he's been seen straight away!!!!!! "

Ps. Speaking of health Jason is now home and hopefully improving.
I saw him today . He was greatly moved by his global best wishes