Post 425. A DISTURBING YEAR

CONCLUDED ON THE 12TH OF THIS MONTH

WITH THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY of our Roz's death at St. Mary's Hospital, Newport, I.W., the very hospital where, fifty one years and one month earlier, she had been born.

Coincidentally, the last of my five radiotherapy sessions at Southampton Hospital was completed by around 9.30 a.m. on April 12th. As we made for the car park next to Jurys Inn at 7.45 a.m. I think I said to Neil: "It's the anniversary today," and he replied quietly:  "I know."

We said no more about it. He was the one who brought the news to to us that day.

He witnessed our hearts break.

Some memories are best left unspoken.
AND IN THE BIG ROUND WORLD.

WHAT AN ALMIGHTY MESS! Both abroad and at home.
Abroad is fast becoming end of the world territory. More and more countries are becoming abandoned shells with only sad remnants of civilized habitation hanging on. The latest, Ukraine, is struggling to withstand a brutal and sustained act of war by Russia for which there appears to be no justification whatsoever. Never trust peasants with power.
At home, our buddy Max came by yesterday. Her Stuart, a builder, is currently sans lorry (overwork I think) and is seeking a replacement. Sounds simple enough. eh? Well...no...because right now there is an unprecedented demand for lorries of the builders lorry type, apparently,  and a lorry that cost you £6,000 six months ago would probably cost you £12,000 today: and we're not talking new here!
Hang on. Wasn't Brexit going to bring us a greener, easier, much cheaper Britain? Only asking...

SO HERE'S A CHEERFUL ENDING.

BUDDY IS BLISSFULLY HAPPY.

Here he is with one of his new family friends: the little girl of two cats and the one he favours just as he did Spike when he lived here. Grandson Ellis and teacher pal Jez took him for a walk yesterday: he was pleased to go with them, but equally pleased to get back home.
Home, Ellis learned, also contains a parrot that says "Hallo Buddy" when he walks into the room, that impersonates his bark, his whine, and the voices of family members, and that calls out "Food" to let him know when his dinner is ready. To add to this happy mix, it seems Buddy is gently protective of the family baby. One happy dog and one happy and relieved grandson.
Yesterday was a good day here.

   

  

 

Post 424. 5 RADIOTHERAPY SESSIONS LATER

THANKS TO STRONG SUPPORT:

FROM  OUR SON, NEIL (above) AND THE ENTIRE FAMILY: plus the ability to remember my date of birth and home address, I am happily back from a land of underpaid hospital staff, overworked hospital equipment, and comfortless hotel pillows. An interesting experience to say the least of it.
We set out, Red Funnel ferry from East Cowes, on Wednesday 6th April in good time for my first radiotherapy appointment. Neil took me straight to the hospital, waited until the session was over, then transported me to Jurys Inn (don't ask me why they fought shy of the apostrophe) where I would spend two nights. He saw me settled and went home. Dinner and breakfast the following day were both acceptable and well-managed at the inn and I took a taxi to and from the hospital for my 2pm Thursday appointment. Both taxi drivers were British Asian, as are a great many Southampton taxi drivers: the one who drove me back from the hospital was observing Ramadan. It's all a long way from John. G. Brandon's Big Bill Withers, but they were pleasant company and really knew their city. I hope that doesn't sound patronizing. It isn't meant to be.
On Friday Neil caught the ferry from the IoW in time to pick me up at Jurys and transport me to the hospital for my 2.30pm appointment, from whence he took me back to the boat and home for the weekend. All this in his vintage Porsche saloon car, Russian oligarchs? Huh!

A weekend back home with Mo was bliss.
My Monday appointment was at 5.35 pm (Southampton Hospital: always arrive an hour early) so Neil booked us on the 2.30 ferry from East Cowes and we made it to the hospital with time to spare. He had also booked himself a room at the inn for the night because my Tuesday appointment, the final one, was at 8.50 am. We made that with time to spare, too. I had the last bladder balking radiotherapy session at around 9.15am and we were safely back on the 10.00 am ferry home. Yes, it was an interesting (and, I hope, not too often to be repeated) experience.

AS FOR MY LAST POST.

INITIALLY THE EDITING WENT AWRY.

And my first sub-editor, Mo, had not then - and has not now - seen the reverberating President Joe Biden/Duchess of Cornwall meeting. My second sub-editor, Daughter Jac. who had seen it, put me right straight away. 

I now qualify for one of the coveted Jackie B. T shirts (XL please) inscribed on the front:

I HAVE BEEN

CORRECTED
And on the back:

   BY MS

BARNDEN

It had to happen sometime.

Jacqueline is a Special Educational Needs Coordinator.

Hope you had a pleasant, sunny, Easter