I’m a celebrity

 The tv programme is in essence a reflection of life under lockdown and covid 

The celebs face adversity and unhappiness in that awful tv show  but they are in a group of essentially rather nice individuals 

They are winning through with kindness to each other and

I am loving this years’ programme 

What a lovely bunch of people 

Nos Da

 

One of the oldest rules in nursing is the one about self disclosure.

A Professional distance must be kept at all times.

I generally subscribe to this notion.

But not always.

Not quite and I will tell you why.

Recently I had a patient who had been admitted for symptom control .

Often these patients need a short sharp bout of medical and nursing care to alleviate problems before going home again.

They are still dying, but the end is not quite in full sight.

I nursed my patient on consecutive nights and so we quite quickly developed a rapport and an understanding how things needed to be done.

I am an efficient nurse who doesn’t fanny arse around and she appreciated this. 

In between turns and medications and dressings she asked me direct questions about my life and I got the impression she wasn’t being nosey, she was just being interested , interested in something that wasn’t her life of carers and of cancer and of isolation and of dying.

She fed on the nuggets of a life outside hers with a sort of hunger

She had little experience of gay marriage and she dug deep and quickly into my divorce and my thoughts of being single again, of adoption and gay rights but when the work was done she would settle quickly under her fleece blankets , close her eyes and say  “ Nos da” ( Welsh for Goodnight) until I saw her again in the morning.

I worked a lot of nights with her 

The day of her discharge eventually came and that morning, around 6 am I turned her and made her comfortable before I went off duty.

It was still dark outside, but you could just see the ghostly shapes of the Welsh goats as they pastured on the side of the Orme from her room window.

Just before I left the room she said quietly“ I’ve enjoyed our chats..... I won’t see you again will I?”

“ Probably Not” I said as gently as I could, a little burst of sadness in the air

“ Nos da” she said carefully

“ Nos da” I repeated 

And I silently closed the door to finish my rounds.....

Så som i himmelen

 

If you ever want to taste what it is like to sing in a choir, have a look at the Swedish movie , As it is in heaven (Så som i himmelen)

It is in essence a musical which chronicles the personal lives of a handful of choristers, who sing in a village choir. 

This scene from the film is powerful , it’s called  Gabrella’s Song, and it’s an empowerment piece where the character  Gabriella finally has the confidence to stand up to her abusive husband aided eventually by the villagers who initially ignored her plight 

It’s a lovely, lovely  film, I’ve just watched it

   

A Gift Of Flowers

 

I had a friend over to stay last night.

Now before anyone gets their covid knickers in a spin. 

It was the chap that was ‘ conscripted ‘ into my original and allowed bubble way back in the summer 

Do you remember the one who got village tongues wagging?

He was the one I decided just to be friends with.

And we are friends. 

We talked and talked and laughed and ate and for the first moment in a long time I felt more human.

I felt more human too because of the fact we laughed and talked and hugged and cuddled too.

The hug and cuddle not no more significance than a hug and a cuddle but it reminded us singletons that we are here and valued and pertinent 

It’s 8.30 am and I’ve just taken the dogs out for a quick wee walk

Cup of coffee in hand. 

My friend is still asleep in the spare room, 

So I may take them out for a proper walk.

On the counter top is a glass jug with a bunch of blue iris drinking from it and I smile .

A gift of flowers from a man.

How nice

Rubber Chicken goes forth

 

Rubber Chicken has survived the weekend

It’s now standing guard over the kitchen wall and will be having a car jaunt out soon to the supermarket

I’m getting rather fond of him

One Of Our Own

 Today our choir master and leader emailed us all with the sad news that Sharn, one of our fellow choristers had been killed in a freak accident .

It’s a strange thing losing “one of our own” and slowly but surely our choir website is filling with thoughts and best wishes for Sharn’s family and her friends 

Durme durme

Strength

 I dont know what shes singing about but boy is she determined 

Sophia

Surreal or what ? Rubber Chickens earlier 

Now for a lovely , rather moving 

Portrait 

I adore this photo

Sophia Loren at 85

Sometimes I really hate being 

But hey let’s embrace our years 

We are Not old 

We are here.....

Bed early tonight, 

 

Rubber Chicken Overload

Today is my single day off this week.

I am on a long day tomorrow, then, thank the lord, I am off work for five long days! 

I have organised things to do each day

Trendy Carol ( still in her Autumnal hues) will have the girls tomorrow

Today I’ve done some Christmas shopping and had an extra sleep and a long bath with Hawaiian Midnight.

The Rubber Chicken was a great success yesterday.

In fact it was too successful as Winnie has not been as excited since she overdosed on workmen when the new kitchen went in and was found eating chicken crisps in the passenger seat of their works van 

She squeezed the friggin life out of it last night, so much so, that I’ve had to ration it from her gummy onslaughts, so sick I was of it screaming around the cottage.

It’s presently cooling off quietly in the only bulldog safe place in the kitchen

 

Puffins and a Rubber Chicken

 

After just 2 hours sleep , I met a friend in McDonalds’ car park for a side by side car chat and coffee.

After that I bought a rubber Chicken at Lidl and squeezed it around the aisles like a badly behaved  toddler

When I got home I brandished it at Trendy Carol ( in her muted winter ensemble ) and Animal Helper Pat as they passed the cottage, neither looked unduly impressed or shocked.

Oh it’s nice not to be working 

I’ve lit the fire and the fairy lights.

I’ve squeezed the chicken at a near hysterical Winnie 

And I’ve hung my latest piece of art

Three bespoke made puffins in flight 

The art wall is now complete  

I’m so happy to be home 

Not Pritti

 Priti Patel is back in the news as her behavior at the home office was said to have breached the rules of Minister’s’ behavior.

I suspect if the likes of Sir Philip Rutnam who resigned describing Patel’s behavior as ‘vicious’, has spoken out then there is no smoke without fire even though Ms Patel has denied all accusations.

In my experience  ( and believe me the NHS is nose to nipple with inadequate managers) the most common bully is one that exists by taking advantage of group situations by “carpet bombing” and brow beating a group of more  “junior staff” in a meeting.

No direct confrontation occurs, which often proves that the protagonist is in fact the weak link in a chain, and so all it usually takes is a calm firm

‘ No I disagree” by one hardy soul present for the bully to be exposed and power to change hands.

This firm and fair” approach works with most bullies, especially when accompanied with a smile but a more robust response may be needed if the bully is more confrontational.

 

Once a few years ago, I was challenged over something by a village bully.

I could have explained my side of the argument  too with a calm, comfortable “No I disagree!”

I chose to half bellow a loud “ Oh do fuck off!!!!!” across the village green before walking away

 

That, as I recall worked very well too

“ You Have To Be Careful with Your Loneliness”

 

So said Neil Horan in an interview with the BBC yesterday.  

A fifty something gay man living in London, he once suffered isolation and loneliness before coming out in the 1980s and is liking those feelings to experiences now under lockdown.

“ You have to be careful with your loneliness...it is a separate illness to say depression and needs to be treated as such”

From I can see there are a myriad of ways people have been coping with months of enforced isolation.

Frazzled Cafe is something a friend of mine has used recently

It is a charity for those who is finding life a challenge at the moment and has the mantra 

“it’s ok NOT to be ok”

Not a counselling service , Frazzled Cafe offers an online zoom service where peer support can be obtained in a large group. Indeed one of its founders comedienne Ruby Wax actually facilitates several of the meetings that can be accessed daily.

I love the innovation and the positivism of such an enterprise at this time where the Office Of National Statistics report that 8% of all adults ( some 4.2 million people ) have reported to always and often lonely.

Mrs Jefferson from her pensioner bungalow rang me the other day to check up on how I was 

I haven’t seen you walking the dogs for a while” she said “ I wanted to check up on you as you live alone”

She lives with a husband with dementia and her call made me a little ashamed that I had not checked on her ( leaving the job to the village street wardens) 

“ Have you found a man yet? “ she finally asked 

I told her I have not

Her grandson is gay and now married 

She’s very gay friendly and wants everyone to be in a gay relationship.

Psychologist Vivian Hill says that “ The decent into winter can be a significant factor how people feel about loneliness” and I get this only too well with night duty recently. Four nights on mean five nights without any significant natural light on my face even though I walk the dogs as soon as I get home 

Under my boffin friend Nigel’s advice I am taking vitamin D daily.

It will boost your immunity he said seriously .

I need to talk to best friend Nu too....I’ve never gone this long without not physically seeing her .

Ten months or so....is too long.

My normal self help areas seem to be shrinking rapidly. Despite the relaxation of the lockdown in Wales the cinemas that are left are mostly closed .

I’ve booked to see a rerun of Uncle Vanya filmed at the Harold Pinter Theatre in London which is showing in the valiant Colwyn Bay Independent Cinema  next week and have five whole days off before my next run of nights where I intend to catch up with a few friends for coffee and walks and just talking in the daylight which hopefully will turn into sunlight.

I’m very mindful that it has rained almost every day for weeks

Another factor which can compound loneliness.

Arnt they fabulous 👍

oh Christmas Tree

 

Oh dear

The Rockefeller Christmas Tree in New York has been erected under beautiful blue winter skies and for some strange reason its a balding and somewhat raggedy affair.

Perhaps it’s a metaphor for 2020

Who knows .

I remember as a child having such a tree.

Bought as an afterthought from the greengrocer on Meliden Road, it was bald and patchy and ever so sad looking, but to my sister and I who bought it, it was an underdog who had to be made the best of.

Bottom branches were literally sellotaped into place. 

The gaps were filled with fairy lights and thick snakes of tinsel and if you squinted long enough the whole finished article looked cheerful enough

Like I said as long as you squinted.

Christmas trees mean different things to different people and we all have our own connections to them.

For me it’s Shelley Winters and the cast of The Poseidon Adventure climbing up that impossibly blue 18 foot monstrosity in my 1970s  childhood but this memory has since been superseded by traditions of Sunday trips to Calver in Derbyshire to pick up the tree for the Sheffield front room.....and  after that various incarnations of the Nutcracker tree, at the ballet

You know the one that grows like a beast when the toys are sleeping.

I haven’t had a tree for a couple of  years. 

I did buy one of those tiny ones that the supermarket sells last year but it was too small to be viable and I planted out into my new back garden. 

It’s still there , bright green and cheerful and still with its battery lights on it

Another metaphor for 2019 perhaps.

On night shifts all week

Bears

After yesterday’s titty talk I thought we’d go all butch today

And why not? , despite protestations from my old friend Nigel, I can do butch

( strange spell check went immediately to bitch rather than butch there)

I received this postcard from Mathew (from Georgia ) this morning

Apparently it’s Ajax by Giovanni Demin 

Mathew said to “Enjoy the beard” 

I will Mathew, I love a man with a beard....

I guess we all have a type .

My first crush was a straight friend in his late teens.

I was a couple of years older

He was built like an American football player and was able to grow a beard not long after sitting his O levels so I’m not surprised I have been attracted to big mature men with easy smiles ever since 

Masculine bearded guys are referred to as bears in the gay world, and in my experience Bears tend to be the most “ sorted” and “ friendly” of all supposed gay subgroups ...if  you have to pigeon hole a group...

I remember going to my first gay pub in Sheffield in the early 1990s which was hosting its regular bear night 

Ten minutes in, I had been asked to dance by a hirsute, broad smiling, rotund Dentist from Penistone called Dominic who was kitted out in a leather harness, that,  thirty five years later Dorothy would sport quite gayly around the lanes of Trelawnyd

Funny old world

Hot Bra

 

I miss the village post office.

I miss the complete disarray Jenny the postmistress was always in when faced with something more complex than an order of more than two first class stamps 

She was surrounded by paper that often threatened to engulf her completely.

I miss those untidy days.

I have to travel to the next village to post my parcels, so today went to the Spar which doubles as post office and supermarket to get my nephew’s birthday gift sent. 

I waited patiently as two women argued in front of me about social distancing and hid behind my mask 

The wait was rather long, and so I was grateful to eventually leave the claustrophobic queue , pay for my post and leave the hot shop. 

When I was outside I pulled down my mask and took several gulps of fresh cool air with a sigh.

“ Now you blokes know what’s it’s like to be a woman!  “ so said one of the women who was involved in the argument  

I nodded and smiled politely

“ We have the same feeling of relief when we take our bras off after a day at work !“ 

And for once I was lost for a word of reply

Gwyrch Castle

My power is off

Candles are lit and the fire is already on.

So it’s perfectly human in the cottage

Luckily I put in turkey meatballs with risotto rice and pasata in the slow cooker this morning , so the food is warm and tasty and wholesome.

Winnie has joined us all on the couch from her spot on the reading chair and I’m watching 

I’m a celebrity get me out of here on my phone covered in dogs,

Gwyrch Castle looks beautiful I must admit 

I’m working Christmas Eve on night shift...I wonder what Christmas Day will be like  this year

Hey ho

Mari Boine

 

This is the most beautiful of Norwegian folk songs 

Fairy Lights

 

One and a half days off before 4 more nights

I bought  some battery run Christmas Lights from Lidl today and they cheerfully illuminate the hearth and art wall this evening

I don’t do Christmas decorations now , but some bulldog and scotch egg baubles ( a kind gift from Kim F) add to the”look”

Weaver has emailed and is safe and well and is writing her Christmas Cards

Happy days

Night Nurse Paralysis

There is a well known phenomenon amongst night nurses on long standing night duties and that is the odd sounding Night Nurse paralysis

It is rare, often clouded in secrecy and shame ( as many still think it’s a product of mental illness or a feeble mind) but it is an actual condition that affects many when they are properly sleep deprived and stressed

Dr Mathew Jones Chester described the paralysis thus

“A black shape gathers in the corner of the room, as if from nothing. I can see it, like a huge bat, massive and caped. It fills the room and comes closer and eventually it's around me, cloudy and dark. I feel its pressure and it's holding me and then, under its weight and power, I feel I'm sinking and being dragged down. 

'I fight to bring myself back round, but I can't - and this is the awful part - I can't because I'm totally paralysed. The best I can do is make a noise in my throat in the hope I'll bring myself round. It's horrible.”

I have never experienced it myself , though I have seen it’s effects just once when I worked at the West Cheshire Hospital back in the 1980s. I was sat opposite to a Dutch enrolled Nurse in an alcove next to a dormitory of who was described in those years as Psychogeriatric Patients 

The nurse was knitting, I was reading a book.

Suddenly I was aware that the nurse had stopped those well worn repetitive movements and I glanced over at her.

She was stiff in her chair 

Perfectly still. Her hands were in her lap and her eyes were wide open but unseeing.

Her head was shaking very very gently, as it would during a minor tremor 

To say that I was terrified was an understatement and I remember calling out the nurses’ name Fenna? which was totally ignored. 

I got up and flew down the ward, through a connecting corridor to an adjacent ward where I found another enrolled nurse emptying a bucket.

Breathlessly I told her that Fenna was unwell. The nurse was sanguine 

“oh she goes like that on nights , talk to her quietly and she’ll come around in a few minutes. It happens all of the time”

And that’s exactly what I did.

I walked back to the alcove , put my hand on the nurses’ shoulder and I talked to her until, she blinked and shook her head like a patient coming out of an anaesthetic 

She looked frightened 

Then embarrassed

Then grateful to be back

Moments later she had returned to her knitting

And I had returned , with just one eye on my book

Until This Evening

 

Winnie eating breakfast  this morning

Night shifts effect everything and provides a backbone to a new and rather odd routine and mental state. I finish handover at work around 7.45 am and get home around 8.30. 

I never really remember the drive home

Which is worrying. 

I am greeted by all manner of faces and expressions.

Sleepy and hopeful from Winnie.

Anxious and grateful from Dorothy.

Smiling and waggy from Mary

Hungry and bad tempered from Albert.

Dorothy and Mary are placed in Bluebell, 

Winnie has a mammoth pee in the garden and Albert is fed

The accidents of the night are mopped up

And I take the girls for their walk before returning to feed them separately 

There are squabbles if they are not separated

I’m too tired for squabbles.

Today I’m wrote this at the kitchen table listening to novelist David Mitchell talking to Lauren Laverne

I’m about to put a baking potato in the slow cooker for my tea. 

I only drink water before bed.

I check the home answerphone ...no messages as per normal

My phone has 5 what’s app messages, all unanswered as yet

A friend at work has given me some luxury pillows and I stuff them into clean crisp pillow cases whilst listening to Mitchell’s last choice of  Domenico Scarlatti’s sonata in F minor

Sublime 

It’s 9.53 am

Time for bed.

The girls are waiting for me to climb the stairs.

Winnie is already asleep in the kitchen reading chair and is snoring softly.

Albert is out watching rabbits

I lock the doors and shut out the real world

Until this evening