Out into the country bright and early for a long walk up the escarpement of Mynedd Llangattock. An ascent of >500 metres offers an excellent workout for myself and the wife. But even the sublime beauty of the hawthorns in full blossom cannot completely distract me from the events off the coast of Gaza broadcast this morning before we left. I appreciate that the enterprise was provocative, but if diplomacy is like a game of chess, then what the Israelis have done is the equivalent of sweeping all the pieces onto the floor and beating the opponent to death with the board.
MAY BOOK AND FILM REVIEW
BOOKS
JAMES JOYCE, by Richard Ellmann. A massive book, which some people consider one of the great biographies of the 20th century, worthy of the maestro himself. All was sacrificed to his art, including his children. His daughter Lucia developed schizophrenia, possibly as a result of the family's gypsy existence, though interestingly, Joyce never accepted the diagnosis, preferring to see her as "overly creative and sensitive". I have seen the same response in my practice more than once.
OUT OF AFRICA, by Karen Blixen. I read this when I discovered that Joyce admired it, which was saying something for him, he who rarely had a good word to say about any contemporary. And it is a wonderful book, full of unutterable beauty and unbearable ennui.
SAD GIRAFFE CAFE, by Richard Gwyn. A series of "prose poems" which when read together create a strange and frightening world of truth, half-truth and chimera, which perhaps owes something to Marquez, but these worlds are unique to Gwyn himself. Are these the drug and alcohol fueled fantasies he dreamed up while bumming around the Med in the eighties? I'll have to ask him the next time I see him.
FILMS
THE INTERNATIONAL,2009 (D- Tom Twyker). Boy, those Bourne films were influential. This one is highly derivative, though unfortunately Clive Owen is no Matt Damon.
HEAVEN'S GATE, 1980 (D- Michael Cimino). Famous as the classic case of illustrating the danger of giving a highly successful director enough rope to hang himself, this film is watchable, but only for an hour or so, certainly not the 3 1/2 hours it actually runs. Awful.
AN EDUCATION, 2009 (D- Lone Scherfig). Certainly a serviceable piece of drama, but is it really a feature film? This is the sort of thing the BBC used to do so well as a play for today.
OVERLORD, 1975 (D-Stuart Cooper). One ordinary soldier's progress towards the Normandy landings. An authentic-looking "drama-doc" ahead of its time, and in some ways better than the vastly more expensive "Pacific" currently being screened on Sky movies (vide infra)
BURNED BY THE SUN, 1994 (D- N Michaelov. A decorated war hero and close friend of Stalin, enjoys his last days of freedom before being taken away in one of the great purges. It looks idyllic, but the sense of malignity is never far away. A superior film, only possible after the fall of communism.
THUNDER ROAD, 1958 (D-Arthur Ripley). Robert Mitchum plays an illegal whisky runner fighting the feds and the gangsters from up north who want to muscle in on his lucrative trade. Of interest is is son James, who looks disturbingly like a young clone of his dad, right down to his laconic delivery and half-closed eyes. Passable.
SYNECDOCHE NEW YORK, 2009 (D-Charlie Kaufmann). A theatre director is offered a grant to make the "play of his life", but his real life begins to melt imperceptibly into the play itself- or is it the other way round? Talented, thought provoking stuff. And Philip Seymour Hoffmann is superb throughout.
OUT OF AFRICA 1985 (D-Sidney Pollak). A beautifully realized adaptation of Karen Blixen's book (see above) which deservedly won Oscars for direction, screenplay et al, though oddly not for Meryl Streep's masterful performance.
TELEVISION
THE PACIFIC, 2009 (producers- Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks) These 2 "Midas touch" Hollywood moguls try to reproduce the success of their excellent adaptation of "Band of Brothers" by transferring to the Pacific theatre of operations. But something has been lost. It is true that the battle scenes are among the most realistic and horrific ever put on the screen(some of the dehumanising effects of combat are superbly portrayed), but they have admixed too much emotional melodrama (the life of the boys at home and on R and R) which just doesn't work for me. Disappointing.
Monday, 31 May 2010
Sunday, 30 May 2010
lunch with a loony
A bit unkind perhaps, but then my late lamented second wife always used to say that I would use up all my sympathy and compassion at work, thereby leaving none left by the time I got home.
And perhaps loony is a misnomer; my father in law actually has Alzheimer's. His mind has atrophied to the point where he simply has a stock of well thumbed anecdotes which he trots out, one after the other. Today we are treated yet again to the one about my wife's mum having had 15 miscarriages before finally getting it right with her. This one, as we might imagine, invariably wrings an agonised squirm from the hapless subject of the story.
COMMENT
Yesterday I commented on the disastrous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. An article in today's Observer reminds us of the far worse oil pollution suffered in coastal Nigeria over the past 50 years, perhaps as much as the equivalent of 100 Exxon Valdez disasters. And how the oil companies have (almost completely) successfully buried the news. They have been able to do this partly because Nigeria of course is, as Homer Simpson would describe it, a loser country, about which we know little and care less.
DR PELAGIUS's NEW HIGHWAY CODE
RULE 2
When driving on a two lane road, if you encounter a bus stopped to pick up or discharge passengers, simply swing out into the opposite lane and pass it. Should any oncoming traffic be forced to swerve or brake harshly to avoid you, do not be concerned. Remember: you own the road, they don't.
And perhaps loony is a misnomer; my father in law actually has Alzheimer's. His mind has atrophied to the point where he simply has a stock of well thumbed anecdotes which he trots out, one after the other. Today we are treated yet again to the one about my wife's mum having had 15 miscarriages before finally getting it right with her. This one, as we might imagine, invariably wrings an agonised squirm from the hapless subject of the story.
COMMENT
Yesterday I commented on the disastrous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. An article in today's Observer reminds us of the far worse oil pollution suffered in coastal Nigeria over the past 50 years, perhaps as much as the equivalent of 100 Exxon Valdez disasters. And how the oil companies have (almost completely) successfully buried the news. They have been able to do this partly because Nigeria of course is, as Homer Simpson would describe it, a loser country, about which we know little and care less.
DR PELAGIUS's NEW HIGHWAY CODE
RULE 2
When driving on a two lane road, if you encounter a bus stopped to pick up or discharge passengers, simply swing out into the opposite lane and pass it. Should any oncoming traffic be forced to swerve or brake harshly to avoid you, do not be concerned. Remember: you own the road, they don't.
Saturday, 29 May 2010
rain at last
There has been intermittent rain here today, the first for nearly 3 weeks, which in May, in this part of the world, is really saying something. Thing is, what will it do in June, July and August, our "proper" summer? For 3 years in a row we have had lousy Julys, which statistically at least should be the warmest and driest month of the year. Could it be global warming? I remember learning with a mixture of horror and resignation that one consequence of climate change is warmer, but wetter (and windier) summers in north-west Europe- just our luck, huh?
COMMENT
I see the shit-brown gold is still gushing unchecked from BP's fractured oil rig. They say 5000 barrels a day; other observers claim as much as ten times that. And it is certainly true that it has now reached the priceless and exceedingly vulnerable wetlands of Mississippi and Louisiana. Barack Obama has been highly vocal in his condemnation of BP, and who can blame him? BP, like other huge transnationals, often behaves in an arrogant and lordly fashion, and such is the enormous power they wield, they usually get away with it. But what I haven't heard anyone say yet is that this disaster, like previous mega oil spills such as the Amoco Cadiz, which devastated the Brittany coastline, or the Exxon Valdez, which did the same for parts of Alaska, is just this: it is actually down to the insatiable demand for oil throughout the developed world, a demand led by America itself, which although it constitutes only 2% of the world's population, still manages to use 25% of the world's oil production.
And I concede that I too am part of the problem. I drive a petrol driven car, and even though my mileage is relatively low, at around 7000 miles a year, I should still look to myself to solve this problem. As should we all...
COMMENT
I see the shit-brown gold is still gushing unchecked from BP's fractured oil rig. They say 5000 barrels a day; other observers claim as much as ten times that. And it is certainly true that it has now reached the priceless and exceedingly vulnerable wetlands of Mississippi and Louisiana. Barack Obama has been highly vocal in his condemnation of BP, and who can blame him? BP, like other huge transnationals, often behaves in an arrogant and lordly fashion, and such is the enormous power they wield, they usually get away with it. But what I haven't heard anyone say yet is that this disaster, like previous mega oil spills such as the Amoco Cadiz, which devastated the Brittany coastline, or the Exxon Valdez, which did the same for parts of Alaska, is just this: it is actually down to the insatiable demand for oil throughout the developed world, a demand led by America itself, which although it constitutes only 2% of the world's population, still manages to use 25% of the world's oil production.
And I concede that I too am part of the problem. I drive a petrol driven car, and even though my mileage is relatively low, at around 7000 miles a year, I should still look to myself to solve this problem. As should we all...
Friday, 28 May 2010
no judge I
Kelly-Anne's ministrations having done the trick, I go in to work today with only a minor sense of stiffness in the back- thanks KAK!
A widower of 60 comes in today. He occupies a senior position in NHS management, but child porn has been discovered on his hard drive, and he is threatened with the sack and possible (likely, I would have said in the present climate)criminal proceedings. He is understandably devastated, and I do my best to support him, as is my job in this setting. I agree with him emphatically that there is a huge difference between one's fantasy life and what we actually do; he says he would never dream of abusing a child in real life, and I believe him.
I go through the debate later with my wife, but her view is that he may not be doing the abusing himself, but he has bought into a system where children are abused in real life- photographing these children IS abuse, she insists. I concede the veracity of her argument, and she for her part agrees that my role in the surgery is to support my patient, right or wrong. There are limits even to this, however: if I thought someone had committed a murder or some other very serious crime, I would shop them immediately, confidentiality notwithstanding.
A widower of 60 comes in today. He occupies a senior position in NHS management, but child porn has been discovered on his hard drive, and he is threatened with the sack and possible (likely, I would have said in the present climate)criminal proceedings. He is understandably devastated, and I do my best to support him, as is my job in this setting. I agree with him emphatically that there is a huge difference between one's fantasy life and what we actually do; he says he would never dream of abusing a child in real life, and I believe him.
I go through the debate later with my wife, but her view is that he may not be doing the abusing himself, but he has bought into a system where children are abused in real life- photographing these children IS abuse, she insists. I concede the veracity of her argument, and she for her part agrees that my role in the surgery is to support my patient, right or wrong. There are limits even to this, however: if I thought someone had committed a murder or some other very serious crime, I would shop them immediately, confidentiality notwithstanding.
Thursday, 27 May 2010
optional relief
Yesterday afternoon, my back spasm had subsided to the point where I felt able to announce my return to work today. This morning, however, I awoke at 7 AM in ferocious spasm once again. It had eased a little over the next hour, so I struggled in, but not before calling my masseuse, Kelly-Anne Kingston.
I call her "the girl with the magic hands", but she is so much more than that. In fact she is a kind of upper-working class renaissance woman: over and above her clinical skills, she is, inter alia, an author, poet, single parent AND foster parent, aerobics teacher, magistrate and law student (at the open university). Kelly-Anne is not her real name, but her "pseudoname" as she charmingly refers to it. What a gal! I am privileged indeed to count her among my friends.
I call her "the girl with the magic hands", but she is so much more than that. In fact she is a kind of upper-working class renaissance woman: over and above her clinical skills, she is, inter alia, an author, poet, single parent AND foster parent, aerobics teacher, magistrate and law student (at the open university). Kelly-Anne is not her real name, but her "pseudoname" as she charmingly refers to it. What a gal! I am privileged indeed to count her among my friends.
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
off sick
This morning, following a disturbed night's sleep, when each time I changed position I would awaken with a spasm of pain, I find myself with my back completely locked. I'm OK if I remain completely still, but any movement is extremely uncomfortable. As I know of few jobs which require no physical movement at all, I ring work, full of apology for the disruption it will inevitably cause, but resolute in my intention not to come in. As I write, swilling with paracetamol and codeine, it has failed to improve a jot and I shall probably ring again later to tell them I shan't be in for the rest of the week.
However, I have at least had the opportunity to rework my latest short story which received a bad review from my professional editor friend/patient. Funny thing: the original text stuck closer to the reality of the incident to which it relates, but it would seem that in "creative writing", sometimes fiction is more acceptable than truth. If I were James Joyce I'd have told my critics (including my wife, who took a similar view) to go fuck themselves, but I'm not. It is estimated that over the course of his life, Joyce spent over 30,000 hours writing, me a couple of thousand at best. That'll teach me to have spent half my life gaping at the idiot box...
However, I have at least had the opportunity to rework my latest short story which received a bad review from my professional editor friend/patient. Funny thing: the original text stuck closer to the reality of the incident to which it relates, but it would seem that in "creative writing", sometimes fiction is more acceptable than truth. If I were James Joyce I'd have told my critics (including my wife, who took a similar view) to go fuck themselves, but I'm not. It is estimated that over the course of his life, Joyce spent over 30,000 hours writing, me a couple of thousand at best. That'll teach me to have spent half my life gaping at the idiot box...
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
spasm Tuesday
Midway through afternoon surgery my lower back goes into sudden and severe spasm, localised over the right sacro-iliac joint. This problem is an old friend; it almost always comes as a consequence of accumulated stress and can last from a few days to several weeks. Please God it will be the former. I have tried all sorts of remedies, from osteopathy, through chiropractic to physio and good old fashioned drug analgesia. But the only reliable treatment appears to be the passage of time itself.
COMMENT
Last week the American geneticist Dr Craig Venta modestly announced he had created a synthetic life form, "a first for science and an enormous breakthrough for the human race"
When I first heard the announcement, I thought "Wow! You mean he's actually made a cell, complete with semi-permeable cell membrane, nucleus and the other intracellular apparatus? That's incredible!" And so it was. He didn't do anything of the kind, rather he used an existing bacterial cell, and injected synthetic DNA into it. In my opinion, and also in that of more qualified experts than myself, our latterday Dr Frankenstein has a way to go before he can genuinely claim to have created life. No, what Dr Venta is trying very hard to do is a)win a Nobel prize. and b)snatch the patents on a huge range of genetic techniques, which, if he is successful will make him and his company one of the wealthiest and most powerful institutions the world has ever seen and, contrary to what he might have us believe, this will actually be to the great detriment of humankind, because we'll all be in hock to him.
We've seen this already in the USA, where a company tried to patent the gene for breast cancer, and then charge $3000 to everyone wanting to use it, excluding vast swathes of humanity who, doubtless, according to the Republican party anyway, have been too profligate to be able to raise the $3000 required. If my facts are right, a women's collective in the US have been able to circumvent this, frankly evil, plan. But beware!
COMMENT
Last week the American geneticist Dr Craig Venta modestly announced he had created a synthetic life form, "a first for science and an enormous breakthrough for the human race"
When I first heard the announcement, I thought "Wow! You mean he's actually made a cell, complete with semi-permeable cell membrane, nucleus and the other intracellular apparatus? That's incredible!" And so it was. He didn't do anything of the kind, rather he used an existing bacterial cell, and injected synthetic DNA into it. In my opinion, and also in that of more qualified experts than myself, our latterday Dr Frankenstein has a way to go before he can genuinely claim to have created life. No, what Dr Venta is trying very hard to do is a)win a Nobel prize. and b)snatch the patents on a huge range of genetic techniques, which, if he is successful will make him and his company one of the wealthiest and most powerful institutions the world has ever seen and, contrary to what he might have us believe, this will actually be to the great detriment of humankind, because we'll all be in hock to him.
We've seen this already in the USA, where a company tried to patent the gene for breast cancer, and then charge $3000 to everyone wanting to use it, excluding vast swathes of humanity who, doubtless, according to the Republican party anyway, have been too profligate to be able to raise the $3000 required. If my facts are right, a women's collective in the US have been able to circumvent this, frankly evil, plan. But beware!
Monday, 24 May 2010
computer blue monday
Coming in to work after 2 days off, the PCT computer boys have instituted some "improvements" on my desktop. The effect is that the font size has gone down from 12 to 8, and my staff have been unable to restore it. With my fading, myopic/hypermetropic vision, this constitutes a significant problem; moreover, it has proved very difficult to arrange for them to come back to fix the situation, as they can't understand what my major malfunction is. Idiots.
Now, more than ever, I am learning to "interpret blur" as the saying goes, just like all those good-looking women who think glasses spoil their looks (which of course they do) But my problem remains, glasses on or off.
Now, more than ever, I am learning to "interpret blur" as the saying goes, just like all those good-looking women who think glasses spoil their looks (which of course they do) But my problem remains, glasses on or off.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
3 in a row and a bonus mole
For the third day on the run there have been unbroken skies and warm temperatures (I class 27 as the threshold of "hot", and we haven't quite achieved that here ye), so I once again availed myself of the big free sunbed treatment. Younger souls than myself might be concerned about solar radiation damage, but I tan pretty well for a Caucasian; besides, I have already lived more than 2/3 of my life so I can't bring myself to see it as a problem, as long as I avoid burning.
NEW FEATURE!
DR PELAGIUS'S NEW HIGHWAY CODE
RULE 1
When joining a dual carriageway, simply draw into the main thoroughfare regardless of what may be approaching. They can either swing out into the fast lane to avoid you, or brake. To summarise: always try to operate this basic rule:
MY JOURNEY'S IMPORTANT: YOURS ISN'T
Please follow future blogs for new highway code rules, as practised by many if not most of the drivers I see around me these days.
*Heathcote Williams coined this phrase in his book "Autogeddon" in the late 80s- seems to me things haven't changed much...
NEW FEATURE!
DR PELAGIUS'S NEW HIGHWAY CODE
RULE 1
When joining a dual carriageway, simply draw into the main thoroughfare regardless of what may be approaching. They can either swing out into the fast lane to avoid you, or brake. To summarise: always try to operate this basic rule:
MY JOURNEY'S IMPORTANT: YOURS ISN'T
Please follow future blogs for new highway code rules, as practised by many if not most of the drivers I see around me these days.
*Heathcote Williams coined this phrase in his book "Autogeddon" in the late 80s- seems to me things haven't changed much...
Saturday, 22 May 2010
saturthai night live
After a good brisk mountain walk in the morning before the sun got fierce, I settled down to another read-on-the-lawn session. The temperature crept up another degree to 26 by 4 PM. Then as it finally cooled a little I actually spent an hour trimming the lawn edges, (friends please don't faint dead away in amazement; it has happened before) working on the concept that keeping the edges of a lawn neat is as important for appearance as keeping the length down.
This evening to a nearby Thai restaurant. Now I have a bit of a problem here. When we were last in Bangkok, we stayed at, and dined in the wonderful riverside location enjoyed by the Mandarin Oriental hotel, and had one of the most divinely gorgeous meals of my life. Since then, Thai restaurants back home have never really cut it. And indeed, this particular offering proved adequate, rather than stunning. The soup was lacklustre, and the green chicken curry insufficiently stimulating. My wife, however, a far more sophisticated judge of cuisine than myself, praised the good standard of freshly prepared food, though criticised the lack of a dessert menu and paucity of choice (ie none) in the coffee.
Tonight I took a bit of a chance. There is a 3 ton lorry parked nearby, outside its builder/owner's house, on a double yellow line, right next to a T junction. This is by no means a rare occurrence, so this time I wrote out on a sheet of A4, in big orange letters, and placed it on his windscreen, the following message:
CONGRATULATIONS!
YOU'VE WON MY SPECIAL GOLD AWARD FOR THE MOST SELFISH AND STUPID PIECE OF PARKING I'VE SEEN THIS WEEK!
TURKEY!
I just hope he didn't see me, as he's a big, nasty looking bastard who might just come over and punch my lights out, or even throw a brick through my window. But I felt I had to do something.
RESULTS SECTION
Did my wife come out on top in her wii tennis match against my (male) friend last night? Are you kidding? Of course she did. I think it's all down to her superior piano skills. It makes any computer game that involves hand/eye co-ordination a piece of cake to her.
This evening to a nearby Thai restaurant. Now I have a bit of a problem here. When we were last in Bangkok, we stayed at, and dined in the wonderful riverside location enjoyed by the Mandarin Oriental hotel, and had one of the most divinely gorgeous meals of my life. Since then, Thai restaurants back home have never really cut it. And indeed, this particular offering proved adequate, rather than stunning. The soup was lacklustre, and the green chicken curry insufficiently stimulating. My wife, however, a far more sophisticated judge of cuisine than myself, praised the good standard of freshly prepared food, though criticised the lack of a dessert menu and paucity of choice (ie none) in the coffee.
Tonight I took a bit of a chance. There is a 3 ton lorry parked nearby, outside its builder/owner's house, on a double yellow line, right next to a T junction. This is by no means a rare occurrence, so this time I wrote out on a sheet of A4, in big orange letters, and placed it on his windscreen, the following message:
CONGRATULATIONS!
YOU'VE WON MY SPECIAL GOLD AWARD FOR THE MOST SELFISH AND STUPID PIECE OF PARKING I'VE SEEN THIS WEEK!
TURKEY!
I just hope he didn't see me, as he's a big, nasty looking bastard who might just come over and punch my lights out, or even throw a brick through my window. But I felt I had to do something.
RESULTS SECTION
Did my wife come out on top in her wii tennis match against my (male) friend last night? Are you kidding? Of course she did. I think it's all down to her superior piano skills. It makes any computer game that involves hand/eye co-ordination a piece of cake to her.
Friday, 21 May 2010
my kind of splendour in the grass
I take a day off today to get over the rigours of yesterday's travelling. Time was when I would have breezed through something like this, and to be fair I do feel fine today. But I felt that, as I am in a position to do this, it was prudent to give myself a break.
After a nice long lie-in, this afternoon I lay out in the garden to read for an hour, naked save for my smalls, on perhaps the warmest day of the year so far (25 degrees). In order to avoid sunburn I change my position every six pages (or about ten minutes) This is the first occasion this year I have been able to do this; I hope the coming summer will enable me to report this activity on many future occasions. Deploying nature in this way is one of my favourite pursuits, though my wife does not enjoy lying in the sun as I do, preferring to potter in the garden engaged in more useful pursuits.
This evening we entertain 2 of our oldest friends for a meal and some Nintendo Wii. My wife humbled him 3 weeks ago when she thrashed him at tennis. He will be looking forward to taking his revenge, but the smart money remains on the girl.
I shall report the results in tomorrow's bulletin.
COMMENT
This week we have seen the fall of Lord Triesman, after falling foul of a kiss-and-tell scam run by the Mail on Sunday. Sure, it's good journalism, the same way as seeing someone getting killed live is good television, but what I find myself thinking is, do the owners of the MoS really not want the World Cup to come here? Aren't they supposed to be the big purveyors of British-bulldog-type patriotism? Apparently not. Mind you, they've got an (admittedly reluctant) fan here at home. My wife never wanted the Olympics in the first place, and she doesn't want the World Cup either. Looks like she's gonna get her wish this time around at least...
After a nice long lie-in, this afternoon I lay out in the garden to read for an hour, naked save for my smalls, on perhaps the warmest day of the year so far (25 degrees). In order to avoid sunburn I change my position every six pages (or about ten minutes) This is the first occasion this year I have been able to do this; I hope the coming summer will enable me to report this activity on many future occasions. Deploying nature in this way is one of my favourite pursuits, though my wife does not enjoy lying in the sun as I do, preferring to potter in the garden engaged in more useful pursuits.
This evening we entertain 2 of our oldest friends for a meal and some Nintendo Wii. My wife humbled him 3 weeks ago when she thrashed him at tennis. He will be looking forward to taking his revenge, but the smart money remains on the girl.
I shall report the results in tomorrow's bulletin.
COMMENT
This week we have seen the fall of Lord Triesman, after falling foul of a kiss-and-tell scam run by the Mail on Sunday. Sure, it's good journalism, the same way as seeing someone getting killed live is good television, but what I find myself thinking is, do the owners of the MoS really not want the World Cup to come here? Aren't they supposed to be the big purveyors of British-bulldog-type patriotism? Apparently not. Mind you, they've got an (admittedly reluctant) fan here at home. My wife never wanted the Olympics in the first place, and she doesn't want the World Cup either. Looks like she's gonna get her wish this time around at least...
Thursday, 20 May 2010
strange day indeed
A long drive today, all the way to Stockport as it happens, and just for a 2 hour medical meeting. The drive is hours and hours long, but this is the modern world. I do worry about the green thing, though.
On the way home I rang home to give an ETA, but found the phone wouldn't let me dial the number, insisting on connecting me with another. I glanced down at its screen (I know we shouldn't do this) and to my amazement, the number displayed was of my late son. It was in fact a number he had obtained in Australia. I couldn't help myself, and pressed connect. I listened for a short while until a voice came on the line:
"I'm sorry. This number has been disconnected"
No kidding...
On the way home I rang home to give an ETA, but found the phone wouldn't let me dial the number, insisting on connecting me with another. I glanced down at its screen (I know we shouldn't do this) and to my amazement, the number displayed was of my late son. It was in fact a number he had obtained in Australia. I couldn't help myself, and pressed connect. I listened for a short while until a voice came on the line:
"I'm sorry. This number has been disconnected"
No kidding...
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
skinnyrib shocker
This morning we have yet another housecall request from the emaciated horror of last week (see last Friday's blog) Annoyingly, she was admitted over the weekend with a DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) possibly as a result of careless injecting practice. The district nurses are visiting daily and yet still she wants the doctor because she is feeling "awful". We refuse to go, and issue our second warning about using the service inappropriately. She now knows that one more out-of-order demand will result in her being offloaded. Will she be able to contain herself? I hope not.
This afternoon I attend for my physio appointment about my shoulder, and apparently my range of movement has improved so much in the last month they are able discharge me (honourably)from their care. But I must continue my programme of exercises, as I still have a way to go before my ROM (Range of Movement) reaches that of my undamaged side.
This afternoon I attend for my physio appointment about my shoulder, and apparently my range of movement has improved so much in the last month they are able discharge me (honourably)from their care. But I must continue my programme of exercises, as I still have a way to go before my ROM (Range of Movement) reaches that of my undamaged side.
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
etraining day
Today, as my readers may have worked out, is my morning off; however, I went in anyway for 12 o'clock to attend the induction training for the new electronic referral system, which is to be introduced next week. I will not be senior partner for much longer, but while I still am I thought it might be better to behave as such. I have never been particularly computer literate, but the system doesn't seem to be to hard to understand. Besides which, the ework will probably be done by my PA, though the doctors will of course remain responsible for actually composing the referral letters.
It has been very warm today, with temperatures in the sun surpassing 20 degrees. Please God it will last or even improve further. For while April proved almost sublimely clement, May has been disappointingly chilly by comparison, at least thus far.
It has been very warm today, with temperatures in the sun surpassing 20 degrees. Please God it will last or even improve further. For while April proved almost sublimely clement, May has been disappointingly chilly by comparison, at least thus far.
Monday, 17 May 2010
nhs direct is a idiot
Today a mum comes in with a febrile child. I go through the protocol for controlling a high temp; removing clothes, cooling the room, opening a window and turning off the central heating, calpol and/or ibuprofen, and then dunking them in a cool bath., which is the standard practice in paediatric untis. If all that doesn't work they should enlist medical help.
"Oh, I did all that, doctor, but I phoned NHS Direct and they said I shouldn't be putting her in a cool bath"
Well that's new at any rate. More often they just advise patients to contact their own doctor, prompting some GPs to dub it "NHS Re-direct" This time they did actually offer advice, even though in this case it was wrong. One of Tony Blair's bright ideas,instituted at the dawn of New Labour's regime, NHS Direct has proved a spectacular failure and in my view should be wound up.
"Oh, I did all that, doctor, but I phoned NHS Direct and they said I shouldn't be putting her in a cool bath"
Well that's new at any rate. More often they just advise patients to contact their own doctor, prompting some GPs to dub it "NHS Re-direct" This time they did actually offer advice, even though in this case it was wrong. One of Tony Blair's bright ideas,instituted at the dawn of New Labour's regime, NHS Direct has proved a spectacular failure and in my view should be wound up.
Sunday, 16 May 2010
visions of araby
Into town this lunchtime to see one my wife's Palestinian friends, Ehab Besayso (my phonetic attempt at spelling) He is an intelligent and chatty man, who has lived in the west for many years, working as a journo and sometime poet. But I found him rather overly self obsessed. In the 90 minutes we spent together, he failed to ask either of us a single question about ourselves. Indeed, my only comments were interjections, when for instance he told us the title of his just-completed PhD was "international media strategies in conflict situations" and I remarked that the Greek dramatist Aeschylus had put the subject to bed as long ago as 500 BC with the famous comment, which echoes down to us through the ages with undiminished power:
"In war, truth is the first casualty"
He nodded slightly, then ploughed on regardless with his own agenda.
This evening, we watched the final of the Madrid masters, with Rafa Nadal brushing poor Federer aside in straight sets. Is he the greatest clay court player of all time? Such things are always hard to judge, but if we are to go on results, which if nothing else is certainly an objective measure, then he is. And he's only 24!
"In war, truth is the first casualty"
He nodded slightly, then ploughed on regardless with his own agenda.
This evening, we watched the final of the Madrid masters, with Rafa Nadal brushing poor Federer aside in straight sets. Is he the greatest clay court player of all time? Such things are always hard to judge, but if we are to go on results, which if nothing else is certainly an objective measure, then he is. And he's only 24!
Saturday, 15 May 2010
saturday rethink
I have always hated breakfast TV on the BBC. It has never seemed to be able to find its niche, pitching itself in an uneasy muddle ground between the fluffy, no-brain-required level of GMTV and the harder edge of a proper 24 hour news channel. This morning, however, it excelled itself, when it showed an item on the goal keeper David James in training. After a few conventional saves against a ball-launcher, they blindfolded the lad and, to my utter amazement, continued to perform pretty effective blocks acting purely on instinct, like some old episode of "Kung Fu". Marvellous stuff!
Last week I reported my disgust with my mother for her overly dramatic displays of grief over her dead cat. But then a close friend sent me a wonderfully humane and insightful email where he reminded me that this probably represented, less her feelings over the deceased pussy than previously suppressed feelings about the humans she had lost. This morning my wife found herself firmly agreeing with these sentiments and I am forced to concede they may have a point.
It may be that the whole incident spoke more about my own deep feelings of hostility towards my mother, which go back to my earliest infancy. When I was a year old, my mum unable to cope with my severe asthma and eczema, I was admitted to hospital for more than year (yes, that's how they used to manage it in the early 50s) Later, when I was 8, my conditions still out of control, a Harley Street psychiatrist concluded it was all about some sort of pathological attachment problem between me and my mother, and I was duly dispatched to a boarding school in the Isle of Wight for the next 2 years. Talk about issues of abandonment...
Last week I reported my disgust with my mother for her overly dramatic displays of grief over her dead cat. But then a close friend sent me a wonderfully humane and insightful email where he reminded me that this probably represented, less her feelings over the deceased pussy than previously suppressed feelings about the humans she had lost. This morning my wife found herself firmly agreeing with these sentiments and I am forced to concede they may have a point.
It may be that the whole incident spoke more about my own deep feelings of hostility towards my mother, which go back to my earliest infancy. When I was a year old, my mum unable to cope with my severe asthma and eczema, I was admitted to hospital for more than year (yes, that's how they used to manage it in the early 50s) Later, when I was 8, my conditions still out of control, a Harley Street psychiatrist concluded it was all about some sort of pathological attachment problem between me and my mother, and I was duly dispatched to a boarding school in the Isle of Wight for the next 2 years. Talk about issues of abandonment...
Friday, 14 May 2010
keep it safe
Yesterday I received a request for a housecall from a young woman with D and V (Diarrhoea and Vomiting). Speaking to her on the phone I determined that she was not dangerously ill and offered her a slot in the afternoon surgery. She said she was too ill to come in; moreover when I suggested a taxi to bring her she announced she had insufficient funds to pay for one. I refused to go, partly on the grounds that she didn't sound ill enough, and partly that she once physically attacked me in the surgery. She has since apologised, and in a fir of magnanimity I allowed her to stay in the practice.
This has proved one of my less inspired decisions, as she has a variety of quite real medical problems which have generated a lot of work for all of us. Today she calls back saying she is worse, and I realize I must go. I persuade my PA (also a lady) to accompany me, to act as witness should anything unpleasant go down. I am not physically intimidated by her, but I must remain on my guard. My police friends have told me in the past that scrawny little girls can often be the most vicious and unpredictable.
In the event all goes smoothly, except that I am confirmed in my original judgement that a housecall was not necessary in the first place. I am too diplomatic to mention this to her there and then, but it will all be logged for future reference.
This has proved one of my less inspired decisions, as she has a variety of quite real medical problems which have generated a lot of work for all of us. Today she calls back saying she is worse, and I realize I must go. I persuade my PA (also a lady) to accompany me, to act as witness should anything unpleasant go down. I am not physically intimidated by her, but I must remain on my guard. My police friends have told me in the past that scrawny little girls can often be the most vicious and unpredictable.
In the event all goes smoothly, except that I am confirmed in my original judgement that a housecall was not necessary in the first place. I am too diplomatic to mention this to her there and then, but it will all be logged for future reference.
Thursday, 13 May 2010
chinatown
This evening out to a noted (allegedly; actually I think it's crap) local Chinese restaurant for a drug company sponsored medical meeting. The subject was highly relevant for me: COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease; what we used to call chronic bronchitis and emphysema)- as a life-long smoker I don't yet have it, but it is just around the corner if I can't, or won't, stop. It's credited for 2 hours of post graduate study, though the teaching lastly barely one, then everyone scampers upstairs for the freebie meal- pretty pedestrian in my opinion. The prawn was too hot, the noodles too wet and the duck far too dry. You just can't get a good free meal these days...
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
can't help you mate
A man comes today in a dreadful mess. His hands are a livid red-purple and covered with painful-looking fissures. His feet are in a similar condition, while his legs are covered in large, angry looking welts. He brings prescriptions from his previous doctors, whose premises are just down the road from ours. They have clearly tried an impressive variety of creams and other preparations, all, according to the patient, being of no avail whatsoever.
"But why have you come here?" I ask him.
"Well they said they couldn't do any more for me and would I not ask them about my skin again"
Now I am perfectly well aware that patients do not always tell the unvarnished truth, but I know the doctors he speaks of well.
"So it didn't occur to them to refer you to the dermatologists for further help then?"
"No, they never mentioned going up to the hospital"
I explain to him that in my opinion he has been failed by his previous doctors, and in view of the fact that doctors are REQUIRED to refer a patient for further assessment if their own treatment is failing to help. Having manifestly failed to do that, they are technically in breach of their contract and he should make out a complaint against them. I very rarely make a suggestion like this, but here I think he has been treated in such a shabby way my advice is warranted.
"But why have you come here?" I ask him.
"Well they said they couldn't do any more for me and would I not ask them about my skin again"
Now I am perfectly well aware that patients do not always tell the unvarnished truth, but I know the doctors he speaks of well.
"So it didn't occur to them to refer you to the dermatologists for further help then?"
"No, they never mentioned going up to the hospital"
I explain to him that in my opinion he has been failed by his previous doctors, and in view of the fact that doctors are REQUIRED to refer a patient for further assessment if their own treatment is failing to help. Having manifestly failed to do that, they are technically in breach of their contract and he should make out a complaint against them. I very rarely make a suggestion like this, but here I think he has been treated in such a shabby way my advice is warranted.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
the king is dead and now lying down
I picked up the girl from the airport last night, and although things began well enough, within an hour we were engaged in a furious row in the car, to the point where I had to pull off the motorway for a few minutes to calm myself. It was mainly down to me, but I couldn't reveal the real reason for my anger. Truth to tell, I was incandescent with rage at being abandoned again, even if only for a week, in my continuing vulnerable emotional state. I know she has to "follow her own fire" ie live her life as she sees fit, but that don't help me none.
Today, by prior appointment, i see a man (not my patient) to fill in his PSV (public service vehicle) licence. Normally a patient will go to their own doctor for this, but his doctor would have charged him £150 for the service (which takes about 20 minutes) whereas I am offering it at the special price of a mere £75. I must say that the doctor in question, who essentially is charging £450 per hour for his services, has a somewhat inflated sense of his own worth. To put it another way, it's a bloody ripoff.
COMMENT
When I heard GB was stepping down as party leader last night, the first words out of my mouth were "Oh thank God". The recent machinations over "acting in the nation's best interests" (read "how can I grab power and hold on to it?") have been more than a little nauseating, especially labour's part in it. It was always obvious that the title had to go to the biggest party, even though the concessions the Lib Dems will be forced to make would make Machiavelli himself blush. Anything to get a taste of power, eh boys?
Today, by prior appointment, i see a man (not my patient) to fill in his PSV (public service vehicle) licence. Normally a patient will go to their own doctor for this, but his doctor would have charged him £150 for the service (which takes about 20 minutes) whereas I am offering it at the special price of a mere £75. I must say that the doctor in question, who essentially is charging £450 per hour for his services, has a somewhat inflated sense of his own worth. To put it another way, it's a bloody ripoff.
COMMENT
When I heard GB was stepping down as party leader last night, the first words out of my mouth were "Oh thank God". The recent machinations over "acting in the nation's best interests" (read "how can I grab power and hold on to it?") have been more than a little nauseating, especially labour's part in it. It was always obvious that the title had to go to the biggest party, even though the concessions the Lib Dems will be forced to make would make Machiavelli himself blush. Anything to get a taste of power, eh boys?
Monday, 10 May 2010
mostly dead
This morning a couple come in to surgery requesting help to appeal against the DWP's (Dept of Work and Pensions)decision to deny the husband DLA (Disability Living Allowance. I write a letter there and then, emphasising his disabilites and explaining how they interfere with his "ADLs" (Activities of Daily Living, ie washing, dressing, buying food and preparing it etc). I close with the statement:
"This patient is genuine and in no way exaggerates his symptoms. "In my opinion he definitely qualifies for DLA"
But I know it probably won't work. I have spoken to doctors who work within the DWP and they have told me how their remit is to allow as few claims as possible. I tell the couple, who cannot for the life of them understand why he doesn't qualify, in view of the severity of his symptoms, that "in the old days you had to be half dead to qualify for DLA; now you have to be three-quarters dead"
At least they know the score now.
Tonight I am Heathrow bound, to pick up my wife from her week-long sojourn in the near east. I hope she will not be too changed from her experience, as she most definitely was last time. But that time she was away for nearly 2 months, so hopefully it will be easier this time.
"This patient is genuine and in no way exaggerates his symptoms. "In my opinion he definitely qualifies for DLA"
But I know it probably won't work. I have spoken to doctors who work within the DWP and they have told me how their remit is to allow as few claims as possible. I tell the couple, who cannot for the life of them understand why he doesn't qualify, in view of the severity of his symptoms, that "in the old days you had to be half dead to qualify for DLA; now you have to be three-quarters dead"
At least they know the score now.
Tonight I am Heathrow bound, to pick up my wife from her week-long sojourn in the near east. I hope she will not be too changed from her experience, as she most definitely was last time. But that time she was away for nearly 2 months, so hopefully it will be easier this time.
Sunday, 9 May 2010
brothering sunday
Out to my mum's again, but this time my brother is also there and we go together to a local hostelry for lunch. School dinners would perhaps most accurately describe the food on offer. My mum is in bits, as we say in this part of the world, over the death of her beloved cat after a lengthy and pampered existence. Every few minutes she begins to sniffle, and the waterworks come on. You may think that an unkind sentiment, but really, after the tragedies she has suffered- her husband dropping dead from a fall on board a cruise ship ("the holiday of a lifetime") then only two years later losing her only grandchild at the appallingly young age of 19, you'd think she'd be just a little bit hardened, but no.
It was good to see my brother again, and even though we see each other no more than once or twice a year, once together the years fall away, and we relate precisley as of old, sparring good naturedly about anything you care to name. For instance, I brought a list of words I didn't know that I had come across in the Ellmann book; one of them being "decollation". His guess was something to do with decolletage, and he wasn't far off: it means the act of, or the state of, beheading. He loved that.
It was good to see my brother again, and even though we see each other no more than once or twice a year, once together the years fall away, and we relate precisley as of old, sparring good naturedly about anything you care to name. For instance, I brought a list of words I didn't know that I had come across in the Ellmann book; one of them being "decollation". His guess was something to do with decolletage, and he wasn't far off: it means the act of, or the state of, beheading. He loved that.
Saturday, 8 May 2010
wiser counsel
Naturally the media is delirious with delight over the political developments, offering blanket coverage, which of course at present can only be pretty meaningless speculation about what we might expect to unfold over the course of the next few days. Everywhere we are assailed by doubtless wise analysis of the current situation and how the nation arrived there. And it is an interesting question. But for one of the best overviews, however, we need look no further than Patrick Graham's blog of 7th May (see: www.smileofthedecade.co.uk)which, as he so often does, cuts through the more conventional bull crap peddled by other more mainstream commentators. Below I offer an extract:
"...a common buzz going around unchallenged by journalists who should know better, puzzles me somewhat. One example:
'they [the voters] are not willing to trust Cameron with government on their own' or: 'they are not willing to have a majority labour government either [this from Peter Hain speaking to Sky news]- 'therefore they are expecting a partnership government'
The fact is that a large number [of the electorate] decided one thing and other large numbers decided they wanted something else...this time, more than ever, it is clear that the majority of the British people DID NOT AGREE ON ANYTHING (my capitals)- there is no collective voice..."
Here Patrick nails it perfectly. The media makes it appear as though all 30 million voters somehow got together to produce this situation, but of course they did nothing of the kind; indeed, how could they? (and don't tell me they organised it through twitter- I may have to slap you) The fact is, never has an electorate been faced with 3 mainstream choices that were so indistinguishable from one another. In which case, "no overall control" seems, in retrospect, almost inevitable.
"...a common buzz going around unchallenged by journalists who should know better, puzzles me somewhat. One example:
'they [the voters] are not willing to trust Cameron with government on their own' or: 'they are not willing to have a majority labour government either [this from Peter Hain speaking to Sky news]- 'therefore they are expecting a partnership government'
The fact is that a large number [of the electorate] decided one thing and other large numbers decided they wanted something else...this time, more than ever, it is clear that the majority of the British people DID NOT AGREE ON ANYTHING (my capitals)- there is no collective voice..."
Here Patrick nails it perfectly. The media makes it appear as though all 30 million voters somehow got together to produce this situation, but of course they did nothing of the kind; indeed, how could they? (and don't tell me they organised it through twitter- I may have to slap you) The fact is, never has an electorate been faced with 3 mainstream choices that were so indistinguishable from one another. In which case, "no overall control" seems, in retrospect, almost inevitable.
Friday, 7 May 2010
the day after
Last night I went to bed around midnight, but, due to work the following morning I switched my light out around 1.30 am to get some badly needed sleep, but it was to little avail. I thrashed about for hours, my thoughts swirling with election fever. Finally around 3 am I gave up and made a cup of tea and watched the coverage again, for of course by this time excitement was building to a climax as results come in thick and fast around this time. I gave it up again about an hour later and was thankfully able to get to sleep.
On waking I heard the results proper, including some very satisfying ones, notably the defeats of Jacqui Smith, Charles Clarke and especially that corrupt near-fascist Ulsterman, Peter Robinson. Conversely, the best result for me was Caroline Lucas's famous victory at Brighton Pavilion, thereby in a kind of way vindicating my vote for the Greens (not that I live there, though I have always had a soft spot for "London by the sea")
As someone with reservations about any form of government, though at the same time a fascinated observer of the scene, I will say this: politics has certainly become interesting in the last 24 hours.
On waking I heard the results proper, including some very satisfying ones, notably the defeats of Jacqui Smith, Charles Clarke and especially that corrupt near-fascist Ulsterman, Peter Robinson. Conversely, the best result for me was Caroline Lucas's famous victory at Brighton Pavilion, thereby in a kind of way vindicating my vote for the Greens (not that I live there, though I have always had a soft spot for "London by the sea")
As someone with reservations about any form of government, though at the same time a fascinated observer of the scene, I will say this: politics has certainly become interesting in the last 24 hours.
Thursday, 6 May 2010
big day for some
Such a delight this morning to be listening to the Today programme with no party-politics, an election day tradition much to be cherished. Instead they gave a good wedge of time to Paul McCartney to promote his excellent idea of "meat free Mondays" He pointed out that the meat industry contributes more CO2 to the atmosphere than the entire combined transport systems of the world. I well remember my heyday working in Friends of the Earth back in the 70s, trying to make people understand that having a field and growing crops on it, then feeding those crops to animals which you later eat is far less efficient than having a field, growing crops on it then eating those crops yourself. I'd like to think the estimable knight's words fall on more receptive ears than ours did back then, when we were marginalised as well-weirdos.
Later this afternoon I went to our local polling station to cast my vote. I always go on election days of all kinds, usually to spoil my form, thereby demonstrating to myself, if no one else, that it was not out out of apathy that I didn't vote. On this occasion, however, I voted for the green candidate, showing that as a good anarchist I am prepared to break all the rules, including, on occasion, even my own.
Will there be a hung parliament tomorrow? I hope not, if only because I was chatting to a neighbour about 6 months ago who predicted that exact outcome, while I poured scorn on the idea, confidently forecasting for my own part that the tories would secure a comfortable, or at least working majority by themselves. I have already promised myself to go round and eat humble pie should his prediction come to pass.
Later this afternoon I went to our local polling station to cast my vote. I always go on election days of all kinds, usually to spoil my form, thereby demonstrating to myself, if no one else, that it was not out out of apathy that I didn't vote. On this occasion, however, I voted for the green candidate, showing that as a good anarchist I am prepared to break all the rules, including, on occasion, even my own.
Will there be a hung parliament tomorrow? I hope not, if only because I was chatting to a neighbour about 6 months ago who predicted that exact outcome, while I poured scorn on the idea, confidently forecasting for my own part that the tories would secure a comfortable, or at least working majority by themselves. I have already promised myself to go round and eat humble pie should his prediction come to pass.
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
negotiating the future
This morning I have another chat with my partner concerning my status following my retirement next year. GPs are allowed to do what's called a "24 hour retirement", where in theory they can retire and then return to work the following day and continue working as before; in fact many do. Others come back part time, as I intend to do (that at least is my current plan) But my partner thought I still wanted to come back on a purely sessional basis, but I've realised that that plan would not offer as much job security, so I put my latest plan to her, and she will go away and think it over. I thought it best not to press too hard about my remuneration at this point.
This afternoon my neighbour turns up with his drill, good as platinum, and 4 pictures are now adorning the walls of the kitchen, which is now complete. Kaloo kalay! My wife will be pleased to see I have not been entirely idle in her absence.
This afternoon my neighbour turns up with his drill, good as platinum, and 4 pictures are now adorning the walls of the kitchen, which is now complete. Kaloo kalay! My wife will be pleased to see I have not been entirely idle in her absence.
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
no brainer, no brain
I am incensed this afternoon by the mum of a two year old who has a profusion of questions concerning a variety of subjects, but who, it appears, has refused any immunisations for her daughter. "I think you're making a very serious error of judgement", I tell her, in a reasonably calm voice, but inside I am fuming with rage. I know everyone is entitled to their view etc etc, but really I believe this is tantamount to child abuse. She then asks me if it's all right to give the little girl cough mixture. Normally I would discourage this, saying there's no evidence they make any difference, but in the event I find myself mute, unwilling to make any comment either way. And indeed, why should I? She's ignoring my advice on a far more important issue; why should she take on board my counsel about anything else?
However, I manage to remain calm and usher her out without a row. Quite an achievement for me, I'd say..
However, I manage to remain calm and usher her out without a row. Quite an achievement for me, I'd say..
Monday, 3 May 2010
snooze on monday
Off to spend part of the day with my mother. We have each other to ourselves, which is a little unusual as more often than not my wife accompanies me. After lunch she points out that I look very tired and offers me a big, old recliner chair in which to have a nap. I take her up on her offer, and quickly fall into a deep sleep for over an hour.
Later over a cup of tea, unprompted, she says she knows which old people's home she wishes to live in when she can no longer look after herself. "There are 2 near here run by the masons; I'd be happy with either of those". My father was a mason for most of his life, and indeed, when I was 18 he offered to be my tyler. I asked him if it was true that no catholics or Jews were allowed to join.
"Oh no" he responded.
"But there are no Jews or catholics in the masons, are there? Why would that be"
I will never forget his answer:
"They just don't want to join"
Later over a cup of tea, unprompted, she says she knows which old people's home she wishes to live in when she can no longer look after herself. "There are 2 near here run by the masons; I'd be happy with either of those". My father was a mason for most of his life, and indeed, when I was 18 he offered to be my tyler. I asked him if it was true that no catholics or Jews were allowed to join.
"Oh no" he responded.
"But there are no Jews or catholics in the masons, are there? Why would that be"
I will never forget his answer:
"They just don't want to join"
Sunday, 2 May 2010
home alone
This afternoon I ferried my wife to the station, complete with her bag, which at 23 kg is at the very limit allowed by British Airways for their long-haul flights. Tomorrow she travels to the Levant for a week. So I shall be by myself until I pick her up from Heathrow next Monday, God willing. This should be relatively easy, as I endured nearly 2 months on my own last year while she busied herself in the orphanages on the occupied West Bank. But I cannot say I am completely free of anxiety.
Ever since I lost my son 4 years ago I have lost the ability to remain calm in stressful situations. Even the slightest impingement; a workman turning up late or not at all, a glitch in a utility bill, sends me into a spiral of sweating and overbreathing. Hence my wife has proved absolutely invaluable to my survival, sorting these and other little irritations with efficiency and equanimity. To a huge extent she has made my life bearable.
So I shall go into work every day (though not tomorrow, of course; I'm spending the day with my mother), try to do a little writing and press on my Joyce biography.
COMMENT
I heard last night that John Higgins, the world ranked snooker player, has been caught on camera discussing fixing matches with some Ukrainian plutocrat. I know we've been here before, in cricket, rugby and probably most other sporting endeavours, but this time I have experienced a particularly strong wave of nausea. I find myself asking: well, what would you expect? I mean, the world snooker championship is now sponsored by a firm of bookmakers, who insist on reminding us by plastering their name everywhere the camera looks.
And what do bookmakers do? They encourage poor people to part with their money so that their shareholders may grow fat. And I don't think they care very much about how they do that. Like smokers, gamblers and the companies that encourage them should be made pariahs, gambling made an activity to be undertaken only by, as it were, consenting adults in private, if they must. But it should not be considered part of the mainstream of life, as it is now.
Ever since I lost my son 4 years ago I have lost the ability to remain calm in stressful situations. Even the slightest impingement; a workman turning up late or not at all, a glitch in a utility bill, sends me into a spiral of sweating and overbreathing. Hence my wife has proved absolutely invaluable to my survival, sorting these and other little irritations with efficiency and equanimity. To a huge extent she has made my life bearable.
So I shall go into work every day (though not tomorrow, of course; I'm spending the day with my mother), try to do a little writing and press on my Joyce biography.
COMMENT
I heard last night that John Higgins, the world ranked snooker player, has been caught on camera discussing fixing matches with some Ukrainian plutocrat. I know we've been here before, in cricket, rugby and probably most other sporting endeavours, but this time I have experienced a particularly strong wave of nausea. I find myself asking: well, what would you expect? I mean, the world snooker championship is now sponsored by a firm of bookmakers, who insist on reminding us by plastering their name everywhere the camera looks.
And what do bookmakers do? They encourage poor people to part with their money so that their shareholders may grow fat. And I don't think they care very much about how they do that. Like smokers, gamblers and the companies that encourage them should be made pariahs, gambling made an activity to be undertaken only by, as it were, consenting adults in private, if they must. But it should not be considered part of the mainstream of life, as it is now.
Saturday, 1 May 2010
vintage saturn's day
Today I have started Richard Ellmann's huge biography of James Joyce. On the flyleaf there is a portrait of the great man by the Italian sculptor Constantin Brancusi. It is a strange concatination of thin, straight lines and a large giddy spiral. I mentioned it to a neighbour and dear friend when I bumped into her in the street. She was familiar with Brancusi, sophisticated creature that she is, but had not seen the portrait in question. I said I'd pop round later with it. En passant, her delightful husband, who was accompanying her, asked if we'd finished the kitchen yet. I replied that it only remained to put the pictures back on the walls for the job to be done.
"Well, if you'd like me to come round with my power tool and drill into those lovely virgin walls for you, I'd be delighted"
In fact this is exactly what I had hoped he was going to say, and I felt a big surge of relief when I realized I might be spared the task. They're such wonderful people, these two.
This afternoon I have spent some time thinking about making one of my short stories into a novella- 25,000 words from about 12,500. Informed people are telling me 12,000 words just isn't a sexy length from the publisher's point of view. And as I thought it through, a number of quite good ideas came to me. So it is decided. I will add a "2nd chapter", spending two whole days with our hero rather than just the one as it stands at present. This feels good. It'll certainly be something to do while my wife is away in the Near East next week.
"Well, if you'd like me to come round with my power tool and drill into those lovely virgin walls for you, I'd be delighted"
In fact this is exactly what I had hoped he was going to say, and I felt a big surge of relief when I realized I might be spared the task. They're such wonderful people, these two.
This afternoon I have spent some time thinking about making one of my short stories into a novella- 25,000 words from about 12,500. Informed people are telling me 12,000 words just isn't a sexy length from the publisher's point of view. And as I thought it through, a number of quite good ideas came to me. So it is decided. I will add a "2nd chapter", spending two whole days with our hero rather than just the one as it stands at present. This feels good. It'll certainly be something to do while my wife is away in the Near East next week.
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