Wednesday 29th June

Have now got a kind of all clear from the cardiologists about what happened two weeks ago. A PI was ruled out by CT tests today adding to all the other clearances I have received in the last few days. There remains the question as to why my heart gave up when it did?

I now want to return to the orthopaedic ward where all this started and have more physiotherapy before finally being discharged.

Tuesday 28th June

Continuing thanks for the words of encouragement.

The current situation is that I am still in the coronary care unit where i have been for 10 days. Until the end of day 9 I was in a mixed 8 bedded bay, then last night late I was suddenly moved to  a single room. As a consequence I got a decent night's sleep. This afternoon, with little notice, I was moved again to another bay but this one is going to be all male. You can imagine my irritation.

At least the orthopaedic physiotherapists are back on the plan now and tell me they will attend each day and that I may be discharged home from here.

At a less anecdotal level, watching the various sub-systems of the NHS work, or not work, together is fascinating or would be if it did not impact on me quite to personally. Much of the information, so called, I get to hear is, in reality, fiction. The impact of the cuts and shortages means that just one key technician not being able to work throws off finely balanced daily lists for highly specialist interventions. Or one patient in the hospital suddenly becoming much more in need of the procedure can throw out the regular list for days as doctors, technicians, nurses all work to save a life. There appears to be little slack in the system to allow for sudden emergencies or staff illness/absence/training.

I notice my capacity to string words together (more or less coherently) is returning slowly.

Monday update

Today, in a setting that owed more to science fiction than I can describe, a implant was successfully attached to my heart. It's task is to wake up my heart if the rhythm falls too much. The registrar in cardiology who conducted the procedure had no problems with self esteem or self confidence.

The plan now is to move back to orthopaedic ward where things went off the rails two weeks ago.

The plan

The plan is that on Monday 27th I will have a heart pace maker inserted into my chest and then, after various tests, may return to the orthopaedic ward where I started two weeks ago. Thanks for your continuing thoughts and good wishes.

Mobile phone coverage is very patchy.

I hope to be home sooner rather than later.

Out of the depths

My time with Bernard

at Glenfield ICU

Thursday 16^th June 2011 was not quite a summer’s day you would expect from Flaming June. Periodic appearance of the sun through a clouded grey sky was not sufficient to cheer any person hoping for a bright sunny day. The weather and the sky resembled how I felt on that day.

I was on my way to Glenfield Hospital in Leicester to see our dear friend Bernard Ratigan. Bernard was in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) following heart failure. I had expressed to Paul, Bernard’s partner that, I would like to visit him in the Intensive Care. However, it is not a decision left to Paul. It is a decision of the medical staff at the ICU. Even if I am not able to see Bernard, I could be there for Paul, to support him and share his pain.

I entered Glenfield Hospital around 2.00 p.m. and approached the Reception Desk with apprehension. “Can you please tell me the Ward, Bernard Ratigan is in?” I asked the receptionist. “He is in the ICU and I do not think you will be allowed. However, go there and speak to them to see whether they will allow you.” She directed me to the way to the ICU.

I pressed the Intercom button and said that, I wish to see Bernard Ratigan. “Are you the family?” the voice asked me. I said, “Well, yes! For me and my wife, Paul and he are the only family we have.” The lady said, “Come in, please remember he is in an induced coma. He will not know you have come.”

When I walked into the ICU, there were two doctors standing by his bed and a nurse attending to him, I think was taking blood sample. The nurse spoke to me. She was very kind and said that, Bernard is attended by a nurse all twenty four hours. He was attached to lot of machines and lot of tubes inserted into his body. His head was covered with white bandages and he was covered with blankets. I asked the nurse as to why his head is bandaged. She said, “It is not bandages. We are trying to warm his body. We had to induce a coma and cool his body and attached him to the Ventilator. Now we want to get him out of the coma and from the ventilator. It is very crucial twenty-four hours.”

I stood by Bernard’s bed, holding his hand and praying for about twenty to twenty five minutes. He was not aware of my presence or for that matter any other persons presence. I was scared thinking of the next twenty-four hours. We need Bernard, Paul needs Bernard, please God grant Bernard a speedy recovery, I prayed in my heart. By then there were lots of people praying for Bernard, Masses said for him for a speedy recovery. I was overwhelmed by my faith. Experience you really have. The helplessness and your powerlessness to do anything bring out that pure faith. “When I am weak, I am strong” said St Paul and here I knew the logic of it.

I came out of the ward, walked back to the entrance and I telephoned Paul to say that, I was with Bernard. I returned home with a heavy heart. Evening was not the same. I was not in a mood to watch my favourite Soap Opera, “Coronation Street” set in Bernard’s part of the world. I went to bed and around 10.30 p.m. the telephone rang. I was hesitant to answer. No, no it is not about Bernard!

I answered the phone, “Shirley, it is Paul. Bernard is fine. He is out of danger. He recognised me and spoke to me and then he started hallucinating. Doctors said that is expected and he will be back to himself soon.” What a relief. What a joy! I had to share it with others. It was late but I telephoned Sue Walker, a mutual friend, who has been praying fervently for Bernard’s recovery. She was overjoyed. I had a shot of good Malt Whiskey to celebrate the good news. Marlyn and I at last felt we are back on earth. What a joy! What a relief! Now we are looking forward to visit Bernard and get Paul to cook one of his brilliant recipes to celebrate Bernard’s miraculous recovery.

24 June 2011

Many thanks for the messages and good wishes. I will be having an angiogram and angioplasty today. The care I get is wonderful. I am somewhat of an old stager here as the turn round of patients into the unit and then somewhere else is very rapid

I look forward to being able to read. Mood is lifting. Listening to Bach keyboard music fills the night hours.

I will write more after today.

More from Glenfield Hospital

Being in a centre receiving patients from a geographical area more than 100 miles from east to west immediately reinforces my prejudice about the wisdom of living just a few minutes drive from a university teaching hospital. Day and night the ambulances arrive - sometimes from as far away as the east coast. The levels of medical and nursing skill are impressive and still human.

I am waiting for tests and possible treatment before being returned to orthopaedics and eventually home.

It is wonderful to have the greetings and good wishes.

In Glenfield Hospital

Dear friends,
it is looking like I had some form of cardiac event last Wednesday whilst in recovery from knee surgery. I have no memory from before the event until Saturday night. I am now in the cardiac unit in the same hospital and expect to have a coronary angiography and possibly an angioplasty sequententially.

I am somewhat cognitively impaired but this is improving. You can ring me on 07582 220186.

Bernard

Is this the revenge of the consultants?

Watching the staged shots (photo opportunities) when politicians visit health care settings I am surprised at the supine attitude of clinical staff who seem all too willing to play along with these charades. After this pantomime perhaps the day of the bow tie wearing consultant returns. I think it will be a brave politician who turns up with tv team assisted by senior trust lickspittles anxious for their futures.  

And another thing.... these staged speeches by politicans to rows of clinical professionals looking like acolytes of some soviet bloc loyal people clapping politely at the banalities of THE LEADER.

Day three more news

Friends will be pleased to know that progress continues with daily physiotherapy and the treat of a shower. The orthopaedic registrar deemed me ready to go and assuming that dressings hold for 24 hours, subject to be given the all clear from the physiotherapist and the occupational therapist. Today's physiotherapy involved sit to standing exercises then remaining standing for two then three minutes. I am now waiting for the OT to give her approval of the transfers between various seats that will be necessary when I go home.

Day three

After a half decent night's sleep today's treats include a shower, more physiotherapy and possibly enough attention to do some work. More follows.

Pain and no pain

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday I was wracked with pain such that the anaesthetist who was about to participate in the operation which had been scheduled for 8.30 was brought up from the theatres at 1pm to try and manage the pain. A nurse put me in funny position on the bed and my pain levels shot through the roof. I was sobbing with pain and begging to be put out of my misery. The cavalry eventually arrived, saw the source of the problem was position, corrected that and gave me me i/v pain relief. I have such an odd relationship with morphia.

I woke up from the surgery at about 6pm  it having lasted 90 minutes. I was glad it was all over but somewhat puzzled at the speed of the operation. The only sleep I got during the night was immediately shattered by the spilling of a cup of hot chocolate at about 2.30 this morning. Of course, the nurses were good humoured and skilfully changed the sheets. Dawn came early.

By mid morning it was clear things had gone well technically but the problem last July was not the operation but the risk factors and infections I contracted. By lunchtime it was also clear that, notwithstanding the orthopaedic surgeon's prediction of a stay double the standard five days, there was now a plan that I could be home "by the weekend". We will see.

Physiotherapy was tough and will be continue to be tough but I could see the progress in just one day.

More follows when energy levels are sufficient.

Phone numbers 07528 220 186

or sometimes my usual mobile number works 07912 359 559

Robert Alter on translating the Psalms

I have posted this before but I wanted to repost it for those who missed it. Robert Alter is a Hebrew scholar who taught in California for many years. Here he is talking with Marilynne Robinson

Hospital tomorrow Monday 13th June

I am to be admitted for surgery first thing tomorrow morning. Glenfield Hospital is on the outskirts of Leicester on the A50 and a few miles from the M1. Unfortunately, only Orange mobile phones work. So once I start recovery from surgery I will try and establish phone contact on a temporary Orange mobile. I will not give the number until I am convinced it works.

Thanks for the many good wishes I have received already. I will try and post news of developments on here as and when I can. Visiting is tightly controlled by the staff as the risk of infection is ever present and the ward is -during the day at least - a working environment both for staff and patients who are mobilising.

I spent more than five months in the ward last year so I know many of the staff and the various routines and rituals that exist in all complex health care systems. I have a high regard for the surgical, nursing and health care assistants. I will try and capture something of this on the blog as the days go by.

I hope to be home within two weeks.

Thanks once again.

Le quattro volte

The Four Times (Le quattro volte)

Reviews - IMDb

‎1hr 28min‎‎ - Rated TBC‎‎ - Drama‎‎ - Italian‎
Director: Michelangelo Frammartino - Cast: Giuseppe Fuda, Bruno Timpano, Nazareno Timpano - :

An old shepherd lives his last days in a quiet medieval village perched high on the hills of Calabria, at the southernmost tip of Italy. He herds goats under skies that most villagers have deserted long ago. He is sick, and believes to find his medicine in the dust he collects on the church floor, which he drinks in his water every day.

Top universities a breeding ground for tories warn islamic groups

Thanks to the eagle eyed Man Barot for spotting this

http://newsthump.com/2011/06/07/top-universities-a-breeding-ground-for-tories-warn-islamic-groups/

Cow blog

Well the cow is here. Trying to explain the cow is one thing but seeing the cow in situ is quite another. Currently, the cow is near the house but there are plans to relocate to the space left by the now demolished garden shed. Watch that space.

Our thanks go, once again, to Antonio De Vecchi.

fr Jonathan Fleetwood OP

Jonathan Fleetwood OP was kind to me in the years I was wanting to see if I had a vocation to be a Dominican. I didn't but the quest was important.  May he rest in peace.

One week to go

Last July 15th I went into hospital for what was scheduled as a routine hip operation. In the event I spent more than five months there. It was a powerful experience. When it became evident that I was not going to be one those standard patients who are in and out in the prescribed 5 days my life began to change in ways that I could never have imagined.

Friends sometimes assumed I was bored and looked slightly askance when I told them I did not have time to be bored. My day started early and well before the ward's day. Because my sleep pattern is poor, I am often awake at 3am. and was able to read in quiet of the early morning. What probably helped me keep my sanity through the six operations was having dongle account arranged by a friend, Ihar Ivanou from Minsk. This, and a mobile phone manufactured for older people. The younger doctors and nurses laughed openly at it telling me that it was so old fashioned. That may be true but it certainly worked, not least when it was dropped and shattered in numbers of parts. My party trick was to ask them for it back, in bits, and then quickly reassemble it. 

As the months wore on without my seeming to get better it became harder to keep cheerful. One loose word to a nurse about hopeless I felt led to a ward doctor getting a psychiatrist to see me. Only it took the psychiatrist six weeks to get in to the ward to see me. It was just as well that I was not suicidal. When we did meet we agreed my mood was a normal reaction to an abnormal situation. What was of greater interest was what happened early on during the weeks. I had gone back home and quickly been readmitted via Accident and Emergency. I must have been quite toxic as the infection gathered pace. I became afraid that various items of medical equipment were spying on me.  Worse, a health care assistant was, I believed, plotting to kill me. I told a nurse who said she thought I should take an anti-psychotic. This was on the basis of a two minute conversation in the middle of he night. So a psychotic episode came and went and has fortunately not returned.

Speaking of psychotic episodes I decided that really I was in retreat on some mountain side in somewhere like Spain. The day began with the live streaming of Lauds in Latin from a Benedictine abbey in Burgundy. The singing was sometimes so out of tune it had all the marks of authenticity not like the precision that some liturgy queens demand in a rather OCD manner. The fifty minutes of chant ends with the glorious build up of the Benedicite then ps 148, 49 and 150 followed by the Benedictus. Once the Latin sinks it the whole becomes a glorious hymn of praise (hence Lauds) to creation.

So, having to go back into hospital leaves me somewhat anxious. I am spending this week finishing off the revision of the paper that I was determined to get in for review before I went in hospital last time. The paper is much slimmer now, more sharply focussed and ready to go back. My view now is that the Journal can do what they like with it. The challenge is to get the iPhone iTunes library filled with music and books to occupy me with over what ever stay I end up having. I thought I would re-read Graham Greene's novels in order... and keep a notebook via the blog. Watch this space.

Scene: an early June Sunday 2011 Leicester suburbs.

Another contribution from Antonio who well captures some images of things that don't seem to change very much.

Letter in this week's edition of The Tablet

Laced with implication

In photographs and YouTube videos of cele- brations of the Extraordinary Form of the Mass I notice two things. It is rare to see a woman present. The male clergy shown seem to wear lace. I wonder what links there may be between these two observations, if any? Although aesthetically I do not like lace, I would be interested in others’ hypotheses as to its provenance and current meaning in the liturgical tensions through which we are living.

Count down to COW DAY

The garden cow is due to arrive by Wednesday at the latest. Excitement is reaching fever pitch in this part of LE2. Viewing to commence once the cow is safely bedded in and we expect many friends and neighbours to come and see it. Photos for the blog most welcome.

Yes, it is a life sized animal. The only concern is the 'girth' being too big to get it either through the house or along the ginnel at the side of the house.

Watch this space..

The King James bible

2011 is the fourth centenary of the so-called King James Bible. It is interesting observing reactions to it as museums, the BBC and other cultural pillars mark the anniversary. I do not hear much from from the churches. I wonder why that is?

A friend and neighbour was telling me recently that she took the KJV as her holiday reading. Okay she was going to Florence. I asked her why she chose it and her reply, instantly, was "the language". I really have to learn to keep calmer when people, who are not any kind of religious believers or rarely attend church other than for rites of passage, tell me the language of what they various call The King James, the Authorised Version and/or the Book Common Prayer is vastly superior to....what?

I suppose my first question is what else have they read? With what other translations do they judge onr or another superior and why? What do they know about biblical scholarship and specially translations? What do they know about William Tyndale and before him John Wycliff of Lutterworth? Do they know what happened to them? (I'm not sure this really matters when we come to think about the text).

The story of the KJV is a good tale and a nod in the direction of gathering small groups of scholars together to get on with impossible job of translation. Translation always means treachery.

The more interesting tale for me is the how the texts came to be written and, if they were, out of which oral sources over what kind of time frame.  Do people know about the politics of the bible, how various church councils decided on what was in (the canonical) and what was out? (the non-canonical).

I want friends to know how the bible has been read- and mis-read over the years. How the levels of meaning have varied from the multi-layered and sophisticated, metaphorical, allegorical, poetic, legal, narrative, predictive and so on...even the very recently arrived  phenomenon, literalist/fundamental which is less than an hundred years old?

I also want to think about how listening to some of the cadences of the KJV and the Book of Common Prayer can put some of us in a state of near infantile oceanic bliss as we remember the words of our early childhood. Not sharing the protestant background of many of my friends who advocate the superiority of the KJV over every other translation I have to say that I have similar attachments but mine, for the most part, are either to the simple pieties of my Irish migrant family (what are called 'pious ejaculations') and half remembered Latin from my early life as an acolyte. For me it is not the 'thees' and 'thous' of 1611 but De profundis ad te Domine of Ps 129 Out of the depths have I cried to you Lord.

I want a scholarly version, with the full critical apparatus and textual alternatives. I prefer the New Revised Standard Version which is a revision of the Revised version of the KJV. I also prefer one in gender neutral language. And for the difficult (for me) books like Romans, Hebrews, etc I prefer translations that help me understand complex and/or arcane arguments. Translations where the translation does not get in the way of understanding as, for example Nicholas King's translation of the NT. A Jesuit teaching at Oxford, I cannot but be envious of his students as be ploughs his way through the Greek text week by week. With regard to the First Testament (Tankh Torah etc) I find Robert Alter's Hebrew scholar approach just fine. Dry but fine. The last thing I want are translations intended to be relevant or colloquial.

and you, dear reader, what do you prefer and why?

Torture, sex and learning disabilites

The BBC Panorama programme exposure of the treatment of patients with learning difficulties shows us what happens when there are unfettered, profit-driven, private ventures with ill-trained and unsupervised staff. The reporting of it, so far, seems to have difficulty in seeing the link between cruelty amounting to torture and sexuality.  I take it as axiomatic that patients with learning difficulties are sitting targets for disturbed people who use the cover of care work to facilitate access to feed their perverse impulses. For the state to hand these most vulnerable people over to the private sector is morally indefensible and leaves those who advocate such policies implicated in the abuse. Will the Coalition Government and the Labour Party listen please?