Another Day In Paradise? (No, It's Dexter House)

 Thursday. 5.40 p.m. Another mild and pleasant morning and I have already been out with Alfie.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I'd bought a gimbal which works with a mobile phone, the idea being that you can make videos and take steady photographs because of the mechanism within the gimbal. I had bought one from Amazon, but, going through the set-up procedure and following what manual which came with the device, I could not get it to function properly. I decided to return it to Amazon for a refund (read the previous post where I described all this.) I was surprised when the refund went through and appeared on my Amazon account. I was expecting it to take at least a week. As a result, I looked at a replacement on Amazon. It is really difficult to decide, unlike in a shop where you can pick up an item and try it out (which I have done in John Lewis's Milton Keynes store, with several of their cameras.) So I took the plunge and selected a Hohem gimbal (having seen a video on YouTube which was a review of the model I chose.) It cost quite a bit more than the price I had paid for the earlier gimbal, but I thought I would make up the difference. It was ordered early yesterday morning and the device was delivered yesterday evening at around 5.30. It was easy enough to set up, and I've had it working successfully. If you are interested, the model is an iSteady M6 and comes in a kit which includes the case and fill light and AI movement sensor, which fits on the device with a powerful magnet.

Friday. 5.30 a.m. Yet another mild and relatively pleasant morning. It took Alfie a while to wake up, which isn't something I thought I'd ever write on here. We were out briefly and I have now come back to the flat and have the television on with talk going on about the local elections. 

10.50 a.m. When I went out with Alfie, it was dry and mild, but at just after 9.30, when I went out to go to Sainsbury's, it was drizzling, that is, a very light rain. As it's Coronation Day tomorrow, there is the prospect of rain in central London, so those people who have camped along The Mall, as seen on BBC Breakfast early this morning, they are likely to get a soaking.

4.30 p.m. I have been out around  Oldbrook Green with the gimbal set up and videoed around 20 minutes of footage. I have downloaded it onto the MacBook and have been viewing it. Considering it was my first attempt to use it, it wasn't too bad. I am getting to grips with the various functions, which take a while to fathom. It is considerably better than the gimbal I returned to Amazon. The manufacturers have included a manual which is easy to understand, and I have been viewing YouTube videos on how to use it, so it is likely to take a few more attempts using it to get a better result.

Saturday. 1.40 a.m. I have woken up. I couldn't sleep. This is quite normal for me. I did my Bible reading. (Actually, a good time to do this, because there are no distractions, no noise, Alfie not staring at me or prodding me.) I make a cup of tea (not a cup, a mug. I don't have any cups or saucers, and, thinking about it, who on earth, in this day and age, has a tea set, with cups and saucers? Everyone uses mugs. Thinking further, nobody makes tea in a teapot. Just a teabag in your mug, pour on hot water, give it a few seconds, and take out the teabag, milk and sugar (optional) and that's it. Life made simple, or is it laziness? You decide.

I digress. I put on the television, with a mug of tea, a bag of crisps and a few chocolate digestive. BBC News channel. There are Americans, those who are obsessed with the Royal family and are going to be watching the Coronation. Then a piece on people who are camping along the Mall, towards Buckingham Palace. King Charles actually did a 'walk-about' and chatted with some of the people. Then a piece about people who either remember the late Queen's Coronation in 1953, either watching it on television or being part of it. A lady, who was 17 at the time, and did some of the embroidery which was on Her Majesty's wedding dress and a man who was a trumpeter in Westminster Abbey on the day. 

Saturday. Coronation Day. 5.35 a.m. It's here! Today is Coronation Day. It's something that is historic and as far as I'm concerned, and possibly quite a lot of people, I'm not likely to see it again (unless, of course, God forbid, Charles falls off his perch and William takes over.) I would have been 2 when Elizabeth II was crowned in 1953, although at that tender age, I wouldn't have been aware of what was going on.

I took a sleepy Alfie out as normal and we walked around Oldbrook Green. There must have been a very light rain overnight as there were dry patches below the trees near the Green.

The Sun Has Got His Hat On!

Thursday. 6.30 a.m. Yesterday evening I fell asleep on my bed. I think it's a combination of getting up early and the heat in this place. How many times have I mentioned it? Currently, it's 77ºF. , according to my digital thermometer. You would say, I'm sure, far too warm, considering we're in the middle of summer, with outside temperatures fairly high. But I digress.) I woke suddenly and looked at my watch, though it was morning, and got ready to go out, including taking Alfie out. We were walking along the path beside Strudwick Drive, towards Oldbrook Green, and I saw children playing football. I thought, 'shouldn't they be at school?' Well, at around 6.45 p.m., no, they shouldn't. By the time I got back indoors and poured out some cereal into a bowl and sat and watched television (with the BBC News channel on.) I realized my mistake! Only a few hours too early. Crazy! Goodness knows what Alfie thought.

I'm considering buying a spray which is supposed to calm dogs who have anxiety. I'm going to go to Pets At Home this morning and give it a go. You can also get a gadget which you plug into an electric Power point, rather like the gadget which we used to have when we lived at the house in Eaglestone which gave off a rather pleasant aroma. You put a gel capsule into it which, when the thing heated, produced a vapour. I think the thing I'm mentioning must be similar. Anything to solve the situation with Alfie is fine by me.

5.30 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre to set up the playgroup. It's not difficult, but pushing the trolleys around with the chairs stacked on them can be quite tiring. I'm also back on the Genesis team, setting up Sunday services, but I won't be involved for a few weeks yet. Just one Sunday a month. Mid-morning, I'm part of a Bible study. I have used the Version Bible app on my iPhone as it's easy enough to use, but the other week I took my Living Application Bible, but I found it far too big to sit on my lap, so I looked for an N.I.V. (New International Version) on the internet. I eventually found one. Quite difficult to find a straightforward one which wasn't a) bright pink b) fluffy c) covered in flowers or non-appealing in some other way. It's ordered from a website called Eden. 

Later, having finished at the Oaktree Centre, I drove across Milton Keynes to the retail park where Pets At Home is situated. I looked down the shelves where the doggy medications were. I could have bought a diffuser which plugs in and you put the calming essential oils in it and, as it heats up, a gentle mist is released, similar to the scented oils that we used to use when we lived in Eaglestone. The only problem is, on the package, it suggests plugging it in at floor level. Which is out of the question here, because all the power points in this flat are halfway up the wall and not at floor level. So, I choose a spray bottle and will give that a try.

Friday.8.20 a.m. I started using the spray yesterday evening. You have to spray a small amount on surfaces, particularly soft furnishings. So, every couple of hours I have sprayed onto the sofa and Alfie's bed. I think it might be working, as he seems to be quite calm. Let's just hope that it keeps on working. Which is one of the reasons I started using it well before Sunday afternoon, to give it a chance to work.

Howling Wind

I'm sitting here in the lounge writing this with a howling gale rampaging outside. Well, I hope it's outside. As usual, at this unearthly hour (4.10a.m) I have woken up and gone to the loo. I lay awake for a while,  not just the sound of the wind, but a door (I presume it's a door) rattling somewhere. It probably needs shutting properly, but it annoys me intensely. If it's in a downstairs flat, why can't someone just shut it, so that it stops it's relentless banging and rattling? Of course, that's too obvious. I won't go on about it, but it keeps me awake. I decide to make myself a cup of tea. I sometimes do the washing up from the previous evening's meal, but I did it last evening and the kitchen is spotless, the sink cleaned as well as the work surfaces. I make the cup of tea and then go through to the lounge and put on the television. The BBC news channel has a piece on a team of scientists going to either the Artic or Antarctic and doing research on a major glacier and drilling a hole through around a couple of miles of ice (I think it's a couple of miles, but it may be less.) The BBC sent their science correspondent (I forget his name.) to cover the story. They have to use hot water to help drill a hole in the ice and eventually they send a sort of robotic submarine down, fitted with a camera, to take video of the underside of the ice, and to see how much it's melting, something never before seen by human eyes and the ice has taken millennia to develop.

The gale is called Ciara. Is it male or female? I won't get into the gender argument, but whatever it is, it sounds very bad tempered. It's a she. I've done a Google search.

It's some time later (5.56, as I look at my digital watch.) The wind continues to howl, but I can't hear the door downstairs rattling. Perhaps someone had had the sense to close it, but I doubt it. I don't think the wind has dropped. What sort of damage has it caused? I will find out when I take Alfie out at around 7.15.

Watching BBC Breakfast this morning, could someone explain why the BBC insists on sending reporters to places being hit by storms, and then standing in really dangerous places, such as near the sea shore, where there are crashing waves, which are very likely to swamp them, or, in other times, standing up to their knees in flood water, or at the side of a motorway, where there is snow and ice, again, putting their lives at risk? It's not just the reporters who are endangered, but there must be cameramen, sound operators and production staff, unseen by the viewer and off-camera, who make up a unit to bring these live pictures to the viewer. What on earth do these reports add to the situation? Nothing much, and if the BBC wants to cut costs, why not just report within a warm and comfortable studio and have photographs and video to back up the report? It's a similar report if they are doing something about the Royal Family, why do they need to have a reporter outside Buckingham Palace? Again, it doesn't really add a thing to the reporting of a particular story.

I've been out and the wind is still strong. As we walked along Strudwick Drive, I saw a police car draw up near the carpark entrance to The Cricketers public house. A cab was parked nearby. I have no idea why it was here, possibly just checking things out and nothing to do with a criminal act of any sort, but I just wondered what it was about. You rarely see a policeman or even a police car around the estate, so it just makes me wonder.

I went to church this morning, and when I got home I thought that Alfie would want to go out. Well, being cooped up for so long (actually not that long) there would be a definite necessity. He makes such a noise whenever I prepare to take him out, especially when I put his lead on. We got outside and I realised it was raining, although only slightly. We got round the corner from Dexter House and into Strudwick Drive, allowing him the opportunity to have a wee on the grass, but, instead of walking off towards Oldbrook Green, he took me in the opposite direction and back to the flat. He just does not like getting wet and couldn't wait to get back to the warmth of he sofa and, as I write this (at 12.40) he is tucked up on his blanket and fast asleep!

Later. 7.00p.m. The wind has dropped, but not entirely. I took out Alfie for a final walk at around 4.30, but he wasn't keen to stay out too long because even then it was windy, but he was quite keen to get back to the warmth of the flat and as I write this now he's sleep once again on the sofa.

Monday Morning. 6.50 a.m. Well, thankfully the wind has dropped. As I write this, I haven't been out with Alfie, but I'm due to take him out at around 7.10 a.m. Watching BBC Breakfast, which is on as I write this, they're showing the amount of damage caused by the wind and there's a Yellow weather-warning, meaning that there's more bad weather on the way. I expect there's likely to be more destruction when I go outside.

Later. I have now come back from taking Alfie out for his early-morning walk. Definitely a good deal calmer. Apparently there was around 6 weeks of rain falling across the country. The BBC are again having reporters standing next to flooded rivers and streams. They were in Hebden Bridge, somewhere Carol and I probably drove through when we went on holiday in Yorkshire. It's the second time this community has been flooded, even with flood protection put in place.

There was a large moon when we went out. It looked like a huge penny in the sky and then it got engulfed by a cloud and it looked somewhat artificial, a bit like C.G.I. in a film. It seemed to disappear really rapidly.

Fourth Chemotherapy Cycle Completed

We've been back to the Oncology Unit at the hospital for Carol to have the pump disconnected. She was booked to be there at 3.40 p.m. and we got there well in time, but there was no room in the carpark so I had to drop her off near the Cardiology Department and I drove round to the ground-level carpark opposite A and E and walked back through the hospital grounds to Oncology.  By the time I'd walked along the corridor to the Macmillan Unit (only a short distance.) and then walked back to the Oncology Unit, Carol was sitting in the main part of the unit having the pump removed by one of the nurses. The nurses work exceptionally hard. They deserve a pay rise. There was a television on in the Oncology Suite, with the BBC News channel on. They were showing a live broadcast of a House of Commons Digital, Culture, Media and Sports Committee meeting, about the gender pay-gap. I was wondering, how on earth can these people, the men in particular, be paid such outrageous amounts, in some cases over £150,000 a year, for just sitting in a nice, warm television studio, when nurses and doctors as well as paramedics, who have to work under such pressure and for such low pay and probably haven't had a pay-increase for a few years? I think that's more of an inequality than a load of television 'personalities.' Having said that, if we're talking about pay increases, how about teachers? Well, I would say that, now, wouldn't I?

It's been bright and sunny but it's still cold with a sharp wind as we walked back and froth from the car to the oncology unit.

Early Morning Visit To A and E

Carol came home from work a few days ago complaining that she had a problem with one of her eyes. She said she had something in it which irritated. She wasn't sure what it could be. I didn't think any more about it because often if you get something in your eye, such as grit, a small fly or a hair, it can generally work it's way out and that's the end of it. But this appeared to get worse instead of better. She wondered whether she had got some chemical she uses in the labs at Milton Keynes Academy as a science teacher into her eye accidentally, by rubbing her eye, having picked it up off something or other. Which would seem easy to do if a surface, for example, hadn't been wiped clean properly by another teacher using the same lab.  

She didn't make much comment about this until Tuesday evening. We went to bed, then early next morning, around 3.45 or around that time, she said it was getting much worse. So, after much consideration, we thought it might be a good idea to go to A and E (Accident and Emergency) at Milton Keynes Hospital, which is only a relatively short walk away behind our house in Eaglestone. There's really no point in using the car because you have to pay anyway and we weren't sure how long we were going to have to wait until she would be seen by either a doctor or a nurse. So we walked, leaving the house at around 4.15 a.m. The hospital campus was more or less deserted and, on arriving at the A and E department, there were only a couple of other people waiting. She reported her issue at the reception and then sat down. She was seen by the triage nurse within half an hour, but then another nurse came out and pinned a hand-written notice on the front of the reception desk saying that waiting times were between 4 and 5 hours!

So we sat in the waiting area. There was a television on with  the BBC News Channel. Time ticked by. People came and went. Several with young children. They seemed to be fast-tracked through the system. Taken through to a special children's A and E department. Some people seemed to get taken through to the nurse's area before us. They most likely had priority, as I realize that the more serious an injury is, the quicker you will be seen and dealt with, such as when I have gone to A and E with my heart condition, or even when I had my original heart attack 10 years ago (although I was living in Bedford at the time and went to Bedford Hospital.) A fairly minor eye injury, such as Carol's, would be considered minor which is why she wasn't seen immediately. At around 9 a.m. she was called through to the main area beyond the double doors (which you couldn't enter unless you used a swipe card, which most members of N.H.S. staff had. She was gone about 20 minutes and carrying a small tube of ointment which had been applied to her eye and made it go bright yellow. We walked home and immediately fell into bed and fell asleep. I must say, as we sat in the A and E department waiting area, I was gradually falling asleep. We did manage to get a bottle of orange juice and two chocolate bars out of the vending machines in the department. Fortunately, we had my wallet with us which I had managed to take when we left the house and these vending machines have contactless card payment which meant we could have the chocolate and drink which we wouldn't have been able to have if it was only able to take coins to pay.

Later in the morning we got a call from the hospital to say that she had got an appointment the following day (today, Thursday.) at the eye clinic at 2.30.

Later. Thursday.

Carol's appointment was at 2.30 as I mentioned in the above. We walked to the hospital. I went on-line and found out where exactly the eye clinic was. It's within the outpatient's department, which, on thinking about it, is fairly obvious. I wanted to avoid the situation that we might have found ourselves in, wandering the seemingly never ending corridors in Milton Keynes hospital, rather like the Flying Dutchman in the Wagner opera. Although he wasn't lost in a hospital, but on the hight sea. Although the setting of an N.H.S. hospital might he rather interesting. You can walk in one entrance and then spend the rest of the day walking from one end to the other and never finding the department you want. We got there with plenty of time to spare. Full of people waiting. A definite captive audience. You could sell sandwiches, coffee and tea, newspapers, anything (but I bet you'd have to go through no end of paperwork and go through endless hoops, through regulations, health and safety, patient protection procedures etc, before being able to sell anything, so don't even bother to take it further. No doubt there's a tendering process, red tape and no end of  beurocratic nonsense before you could set up quite a lucrative business.) People of all ages, waiting for their appointments, all attempting like crazy to avoid eye contact with one another. Looking thoroughly bored. Along one side of the room, an array of booths, or kiosks, where you would go for your appointment. Each has a number, in extremely large sized lettering, from 1 through 6 or thereabouts. I realize that the patients had sight problems, but why do the signs have to be so large and obvious? It seemed a bit over the top. I have an image of someone of a 'certain age' who wears glasses, with those extremely thick lenses, like the bottom of bottles, which make their eyes look huge (rather like the bushbaby in the brilliant Ardman Animation mini film "Creature Comfort", which sits on a branch and at the end takes the glasses off and their eyes are tiny.) This person turns up for their appointment and then has great difficulty finding the right room their appointment is in and has to search by touch virtually alone, even though the sign for the room they have to go to has a sign with extremely tiny signage. Just an idea.

We sat at one side of the waiting area, right near the television that was on the wall. The gameshow "Decimate" comes on, a daytime show which I might or might not have seen. It has Shane Ritchie as compere. He plays Alfie Moon in 'EastEnders.' Our Yorkshire Terrier is named after him. Anyway, we had to sit quite close to the screen, but it meant we would have our backs to the rest of the room and wouldn't see anyone who came out to call when Carol's appointment came up. After around 10 minutes it was time for Carol's appointment. She went into the room and was gone for around 20 minutes or so. A young man with his mother came in. They sat directly under the television screen. He looked bored silly as if he didn't want to be there. I wasn't actually sure whether they were mother and son. She seemed to look too old to be his mother. She might have been his grandmother. They didn't speak or make any indication that they were actually together. Perhaps he wasn't old enough to get to the hospital appointment on his own. He probably couldn't drive a car or get a bus on his own (unlikely, thinking about it now.) Then she offered him an extra strong mint, which he accepted. He just stared off into space, but they never spoke to one another. Or perhaps she was going for the appointment. I wasn't sure. Anyway, they are now filed under 'characters' which I can use in my writing. Even just sitting in the hospital I was beginning to get ideas for writing stories. A definite fertile ground for inspiration.

Then Carol came out of the room where she'd had her appointment. She wanted me to go back in with her as the nurse who had been dealing with her eye injury had to go off to find a doctor to give a second opinion about her eye. It was regarding the eye problem she had had several years ago when she had gone to have an eye test at Asda and we were sent to Stoke Mandeville Hospital because the optician had found something which needed attention. Surprisingly, she has never had a follow-up appointment in all the intervening years. The lady was gone five minutes or so but then came back with a doctor who looked at Carol's eyes through a sort of microscope machine and gave the all clear on that problem. Regarding the recent eye injury, it appeared that whatever it was that had got into her eye had come out. It might have been a bit of grit or chemical from working at the Academy. The surrounding area around the eye had got very puffy and red and this, apparently, was due to the fact that she was getting an allergic reaction to the ointment she was given at the A and E department the previous day and was told to stop using it immediately. Also, she was given a prescription for some sort of drops which would help prevent dry eyes as apparently she wasn't producing the natural lubricant her eyes should produce to stop her eye healing properly. So, we walked out of the department and home and then drove to Sainsbury's to get the prescription made up. Unfortunately, on enquiring at the pharmacy, they didn't have it in stock but had to put in an order which should be ready for collection tomorrow after 12 noon.