New Year greetings

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL

This is just a brief blog to wish all my readers a very happy New Year.

For us 2012 has been a hard year. Cold and rain has dominated the weather, though fortunately we’ve not actually been flooded out. 

Our April holiday in France turned out to be dominated by the need to keep a wood-burning stove going as it rained and hailed outside. Admittedly we did manage some trips & our day in Sarlat was wonderful. 

Sarlat

Then my breast started bleeding &  the abdominal pains I had been having from time to time starting to get more frequent & more intense until I ended up in hospital for a few days, & now have had numerous out-patient hospital visits. 

On top of that we’ve worried over State benefits (ESA, Employment and Support Allowance, our main income) - the application form, the medical and now the appeal. 

The only good thing to be said is that, despite his stroke last year, the Fox has coped remarkably well, even though now he is very very tired as am I. We both need a holiday, a break somewhere to be pampered, where we can recoup our strength a bit. However, that will have to wait until I have the result of my recent scan & know if any surgery is necessary or something else dire is found. (Hopefully it won’t, as, on the whole, I’m feeling a lot better. I’ve just had the odd twinge, the sort of thing I wouldn’t have even noted in other circumstances, & the very occasional sharp spasm of short duration.)

I’m not overly optimistic about 2013. I suppose I have to admit optimism is never very characteristic of me. As far as I can see the early part of the year is going to be dominated still by my health problems and ESA appeal. I’m just hoping things may pick up as the year goes on. At least the weather may improve which would lift the spirits a bit, making anything more tolerable.

There have been some good aspects of 2012. I did enjoy watching the Thames pageant for the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. In a curious way I am appreciating not feeling obliged to go over to the Pub as much as we did to support PD. I feel we’ve got some of our own lives back again. The Fox’s potato crop was bountiful even if his other vegetables were less successful. Above all, we’ve come through the year together despite all the problems and that is the most precious thing of all.

So let’s hope 2013 brings good luck, better weather & prosperity to us all. Once more

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL

The Injustice

The rain pounds down yet again. There seems to be no end of it this year. A lone blackbird hops disconsolately around. He looks miserable. The wind blows. Everyone is staying inside. I’m just hoping the new year brings better weather. A bit of warmth and sunshine would be nice, though at the moment just dryness would seem a bonus. I suspect there are an awful lot of people in this country feeling the same, especially those who have been flooded out of their homes.

A travel brochure came through the post. I’m half looking at it. I wonder if I’ll even be able to go away, especially abroad, between my health & benefit problems. And 2013 will also bring the time for renewal of my Disability Living Allowance (DLA). I just hope I don’t have as many problems with that as I’m having with this Employment Support Allowance (ESA).

I do resent feeling that I have to put so much effort into just getting what I’m entitled to at a time when I’m not really feeling well enough to take on the fight. And yet, there is a bit of me that says even if I were to win the EuroMillions, I would still fight. I feel I’m fighting not just for me, but hopefully making it easier for others who may be in greater need & less able, to get what they’re entitled to. It’s the injustice as much as anything else I rebel against. The government just shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. That anger is what drives me on, keeps me going. But I will admit I’m dreading the backlash when it’s over & I feel I can just sit back & relax.

The scan

I've spent the morning trying to write down the reasons for my appeal. Something more than because I think it's ridiculous is required. This now is a brief respite so hopefully I can go back to what I've written with fresh eyes.

As I told you, yesterday was the day of the MRI scan. It was a long afternoon. The letter had told me to eat and drink nothing for three hours before the appointment which I had duly done. You can imagine my surprise when I was then handed a small carton of pineapple juice to be drunk at 1.50pm. No explanation was given. We could only assume it was necessary to have some acid going through the digestive system for the scan. There was then an hour wait while the drink was absorbed to the appropriate stage. If we'd known there was going to be such a long wait we would have taken some books to read or gone for a stroll & returned an hour later. Instead we flipped through the not very inspring magazines and waited.

Eventually I got in. The scan itself too the best part of half an hour. I was given music to listen to, during the scan. I chose classical & ended up with a bit of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" followed by Beethoven's "Pastoral". Or at least I think that was what they were supposed to be. The volume was so low it was difficult to hear, especially when the machine made a tremendous racket when it was presumably taking the pictures. It didn't help when I felt the urge to sneeze when I was far in the tube which was so narrow my nose was virtually in contact with the side. Still all got done.

By the time we got out of the hospital we decided to abandon any idea of the shops. On the way to the hospital we had noted the car parks we passed had looked overflowing with sale visitors. By this time, the race for home was on. The traffic queued for ages across the Greyhound Bridge, the sole bridge across the River Lune to get to Morecambe and therefore a real bottleneck. 

Once on the right side of the river, we stopped for a while at Snatchems for a drink. Hospitals are very drying at the best of times. We were both in need of refreshment by this time. We got home in time to put the pie the Fox had prepared the night before into the oven.

The pie itself was really delightful. It used some left over cooked turkey and stuffing, topped with mash like a cottage pie. We feared it might be too similar to the meal the day before, Turkey Wellingtons, using the same cooked turkey & stuffing mix, although in slightly different proportions. It tasted quite different despite the similarity of ingredients. Those minor variations made it taste quite different. Indeed it was quite a triumph. Well done the Fox!     

Getting ready

I hope you all had a good Christmas. We had a quiet one. We spent the afternoon watching Disney’s “The Lady and the Tramp”. I was struck by how much Disney must have disliked Siamese cats.

In fact, over the holiday period, we’ve watched a lot of animations. We also watched “The Snowman”, “The Snowman and the Snowdog” & “Ice Age: a Mammoth Christmas”. All had a certain charm that brought out the child in me.

Yesterday I got back to the question of benefits & the appeal. A few further questions have been answered. I’m that bit nearer to actually writing the appeal. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced I am in the wrong group. If I don’t look out, the present decision will be injurious not only to my wallet but also, & this is almost more worrying, to my physical & mental health.

But, first before I get down to this, I have yet another trip to the hospital, this time for the MRI scan. At present I’m on the required three hours without food or water. Needless to say, within a quarter of an hour of starting, my stomach rumbled, my throat felt dry, but it will have to wait now until the scan is done.

As we’re in Lancaster for the hospital, we’re hoping to have a quick look around the sales – maybe get ourselves a nice calendar – and possibly

collect a few holiday brochures in the hope I will be fit enough to go away somewhere. For that matter it is to be hoped a holiday is possible with this appeal &/or whatever work related activity is being required of me in the meantime. The urge for an unwind & some warmth is great for both of us. At least a brochure or two may enable us to dream a bit.

Happy Christmas

The time has come to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. 

As I pursued the idea of a review/appeal for my benefits this morning, I discovered governmental offices have already closed down for the festive season. That being so, I shall put aside my worries, too, & do my best to enjoy the festive period. Unfortunately, immediately afterwards, my energies will have to be spent on yet another hospital trip, this time for the MRI scan.

But as I say, the time has come to put all these worries on side. Or at least to try to do so.

I wish you all an enjoyable time. I hope those in more straightened circumstances, whether because they are homeless due to the floods or other reasons, or financial, manage to find some joy from the season. It is a season of goodwill to all & I hope all experience some of that goodwill.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS   

Christmas past & present

We seem set for another wet day. I’m telling myself we’re lucky really. For all the rain we’re having, we show no signs of flooding, unlike so many people.

As Christmas approaches I can’t help thinking the weather is going to disrupt many holiday plans. With roads flooded many people will not be able to travel to rejoin families in other parts. With houses flooded many people are going to be homeless, sharing community centres with strangers or camping out in rooms belonging to friends & family who have a little extra space. Trying to get their homes sorted out again & insurance claims will all have to wait until the holidays are over.

We’re lucky, too, in that we have plenty to eat & heating to keep us warm unlike so many in these days of austerity. How I hate that word! I find it horrific to see food banks & collection points appearing everywhere.

Yet, looking back, I suspect many will also remember this Christmas for some of the good things that came out of it. The Christmas we spent without electricity in sub-zero temperatures I find I recall with a certain fondness. It was a time we discovered who our true friends were. We went along to the pub to bump into our next door neighbours, who we rarely spoke to, there too trying to keep warm & ended up chatting to them.  We had friends who made room in their freezers for the contents of ours. Others brought hot water bottles, flasks of tea, toast for breakfast. By the time the power returned several days later, we had been lent a calor gas fire, calor gas lamps, a camping stove. We had our meals with friends or family at their place. Altogether it turned out to be a most social time, filled with love & the  thoughtfulness of others, a level of kindness we could never hope to re-pay, an opportunity to discover the best in people. I hope those suffering hard times will discover similar kindnesses & love, some from unexpected quarters. And, maybe, in some ways that is what Christmas is really about - a time of love & good will to all.

The tree

The tree is up. We put it up last night. Now the lights sparkle in the dark, the tinsel glitters. The room is starting to look more festive & we’re trying to put aside our other worries.

I was surprised to get a phone call from the charity helping me with my benefit claim, suggesting the man would come round today rather than Christmas Eve. He reckoned he’d written out the appeal but just needed my signature. He wanted me to write a letter explaining my reasons for wanting to appeal & gather any collaborating evidence. I had to explain I couldn’t do that at this point in time. Until someone can give me some information about the basis of the decision I’m not even confident I have the basis for an appeal. Hopefully yesterday’s call to Jobcentre Plus will get that.

I cannot even begin to think what he must have written on this appeal form. My disillusionment with this charity is growing. From past experience I’m only too aware we won’t win on a sympathy vote. We need to win on a sound legal basis.

Still this must wait until after Christmas. It is time to turn my mind to the tree & its sparkle. This afternoon we’re hoping to get off to buy a goose. It’s not that I want to cook the goose for Christmas – we’re having turkey. It’s just the only time they seem to be available in the shops at anything like a reasonable price is now. It can stay in the freezer until I need some more goose fat for roasting my potatoes.

We’re also intending to collect all our medication for the festive season – that will be quite a bagful! After that it will be a case of trying to rest up a bit & relax, ready for Christmas Day, maybe even turn my mind to more spiritual matters.

Gloom?

Yesterday we sat around waiting for the man to arrive from the charity to sort out my benefit problems. His appointment is for 9.30am. By 10 & there’s still no sign of him, I ring up to find out what has happened. He had no note of the appointment despite the fact he himself made the arrangement. There was no apology. He didn’t even see a need to see me! He’s now coming around on Christmas Eve. As I’ve already said I’m considering appealing, he is going to bring the appeal form with him.

I confess my faith in the help & support of this charity has evaporated. I can’t help thinking I might try to get help from somewhere else if I do appeal. In some ways it has had a good effect in that it’s made me take up some responsibility for what is or is not to happen. I confess I’m never very happy at delegating something so important to someone else, especially when I feel I have a better grasp of the legal implications than they seem to.

So this morning I got onto Jobcentre Plus to get some more information about the new Employment & Support Allowance (ESA). I’ve requested a written statement of the basis for the decision to put me in the Work Related Activity group. I’ve found out some of the implications of it. I feel a little wiser about what the situation is. I feel I’m on the way to establishing if I have some basis for an appeal on law, not just sympathy.

It seems the Fox is now allowed to claim Carer’s Allowance which he wasn’t previously entitled to. However, it comes at a price. After the first year, if I am still in the Work Related Group & unable to find an appropriate job, then the ESA becomes means tested, which means I will get nothing. If I am in the Support group I would continue to collect Contribution-based ESA which is not means tested until I reach retirement age (67) or have that miraculous improvement in my health (if only).  I gather, too, I have the joy of another medical to look forward to mid-Feb, not exactly the dream prospect that I wrote about last time & feel I need.

I am relieved, though, to realise that the month deadline in which to make an appeal is fluid at the moment. Apparently they are so inundated with appeals to claims for ESA, they’re being more flexible on these deadlines, especially if you have a good reason eg health difficulties, Christmas delays. Meanwhile I continue to collect ESA until either the first year or an appeal comes to some other conclusion.

All of this is not conducive to much festive spirit. On Monday, Angie, our home help, decided we needed some tinsel up to make the place look cheerier. Our long shelf of cards would not suffice. To me, it looks sad rather than cheery but I just couldn’t be bothered to take it down. Over the weekend we will put up the tree. I just hope that adds some sparkle to the gloom hereabouts.

Talk about gloom, today is so dark I’m tempted to put the room lights on.  It may be nearly lunchtime but it is a browny grey outside with rain splashing down & a wind blowing. I feel sorry for the men who have come to re-point our chimney. I can hear them working away on the roof but this isn’t the day I would choose to do such a job!  

The Need to Dream

We’re down at the village pub. Early on we discover our usual Monday/Tuesday afternoon barman will be leaving us early in January. He invited us to his leaving party. He’s off back to Poland to set up a business with his brother selling clothing. We’ll be sorry to see him go, but it has to be admitted a bright linguist graduate, he is under-utilised as a barman. He loves England but misses his family.

Along comes Howie, a regular. He is going on about the need to dream. He’s dreaming of his holidays. He’s off to Tunisia as soon as 2013 arrives. At the moment he’s finalising details of his touring holiday along the west coast with Scotland – we remember our touring holiday along the same coast with a dear friend 30 odd years ago – in the spring. After that he’s looking forward to a trip to Tenerife in the autumn. Just by way of variation he’s also looking forward to his son’s trip back to Old Blighty & this part of the world soon. His son lives in Brisbane these days so this is a rare treat for Howie.

Come the evening we’re wondering if lack of dreams is part of our lowness at the moment. It’s difficult to make plans, to dream, when you have ill-health hanging over you. Until we know the results of the MRI scan, due just after Christmas, it’s difficult to know what we can realistically plan, or even hope to do even if we don’t achieve it. As soon as we get a sense that nothing urgently needs to be done or is likely to adversely affect us, we’re hoping for a holiday in the sun, the sort of holiday where you’re pampered with everything done for you.

We did question whether there were any projects we want to achieve around our home this coming year. The house itself we feel we’ve more or less got it as we want it. Obviously there will be the routine redecoration to be done but nothing is urgent at the moment.  We keep thinking we would like to have our back garden redesigned to make it more accessible & easier to look after. And with that thought we wonder yet again whether a conservatory or veranda area would be a good idea. The idea of a covered area where, in summer, we could sit out & possibly eat, even if it is raining, has a certain appeal. Just being surrounded by all that light pouring through the glass of a conservatory appeals. The only disadvantage of a conservatory is that it would have to be attached to our kitchen/laundry room which would mean it would be pointing due south, & we know just how hot that can be even in the shade of a  brick-surrounded & therefore comparatively sheltered, room.

It has to be admitted we’re both feeling the years – the effect of ill-health & worrying about it I suspect. In a curious way, I suspect we’ve had a very early retirement without the health, or until recently the money, to enjoy it. Life goes slowly, of necessity as that’s the only pace I can manage.

What we need are dreams to bring colour & joy, to give us something to look forward to with eager anticipation, to lift us out of the drudgery of the mundane, of health & benefit worries. Maybe 2013 will let us dream once more.

Cheated

It’s very subdued here. We were starting to feel in festive spirit. Somehow, between hearing of the death of Ellie & the news that it looks as though I shall have to go through the appeal process with my benefit, it has all gone. I know I’m feeling depressed. I suspect the Fox is too.

On Friday I got a phone call from Welfare Rights. I had contacted them about my uncertainties concerning the letter awarding me (Employment & Support Allowance). I explained my problems. By the end of the phone call, they said they would be posting information about the basis of an appeal & how to go about it. They reckoned that someone with my level of disability, entitled to my level of Disabled Living Allowance (DLA) should be in the Support group, not the Work Related group.

The man from the charity that helped me fill in the initial application form is due to be come on Wednesday. I shall wait to see what he says. Hopefully he will agree with Welfare Rights & undertake the appeal on my behalf. I certainly don’t feel in any state to undertake the ordeal of an appeal.

I feel cheated. That phone call I got from the Department of Works & Pensions told me I had won the award. Now I realise they did not say what level of award. As a result I was pre-programmed to assume I had got it to the level I hoped for & there would be no further difficulties. If I had not read the letter carefully - & many wouldn’t have done in the circumstances – it would have been too late to appeal. That has to be done within a month of the date of the confirming letter. I feel as though I’ve had something taken away from me. I felt so relieved & now the anguish of realising the truth of the situation & of gearing myself up for an appeal, seems all the worse, the depth of fall all the greater. I feel I have enough to worry about at the moment with my own health without this added pressure.

A further death

We got to the Farmers’ Market yesterday to discover it is the last one planned for Morecambe. We will be sorry to see it go. In future the nearest one will be on a Saturday in Lancaster. As you will have realised by now we avoid Lancaster as much as possible, & Saturday is the busiest & therefore worst of all days.

We could go over to the farm shop in Conder Green or to the farm we regularly buy our salt marsh lamb from – it's in Cockerham – but both necessitate traversing Lancaster & are quite a trip out.

I’m not quite sure what we will do for meat in future.

There are mutterings they may have another go, on a different site. It has to be admitted the present arrangements have not been the best. The market has been held in a church hall in the middle of a residential area, far away from the shops. As a result few people are even aware of its existence. As for its advertising, that seems to have consisted of a few boards nearby, but unless you are passing you wouldn’t see those. For that matter if you are driving on your own, immersed in conversation or distracted by the view across the Bay, they are easily missed. You certainly wouldn’t make it a place to go out of your way for. They don’t seem to have thought of advertising in the local papers!

The suggestion is the market will maybe move more into the shopping centre which would make a lot more sense. That’s where the shoppers are. It could even become an added attraction to the shopping area. The existing Festival market has few food stalls, none selling meat, so this would be a positive addition. 

At the moment no one seems to want to take on the organisation required to arrange it so the whole concept of a Farmers’ Market may disappear into obscurity, never to be seen again - a pity both for us, the buyers, & for the farmers with high quality meat to sell for which they get a higher percentage of the profit by selling direct to the public.

Meanwhile we will start the new year by finding somewhere else to buy our meat. Although we’ve found a good butcher for chicken, his other meat is disappointing.

Winter

You would think it had snowed, the world is so white. In fact it is only frost. Even the roads & pavements are white. Yesterday never got any warmer. The frost only thickened as the night arrived. Admittedly the thermometer has gone up a bit. I was struck by how much warmer it seemed when I ventured out. The temperature has reached the giddy heights of -10ْC. I noticed the bin men today are all wearing balaclavas trying to keep warm. The feeling of whiteness is increased by the fog that keeps coming and going. Apart from the bin men, nothing seems to be moving along the street. Everyone is staying in the warmth as long as they can. Most of our neighbours are either retired or self-employed, based at home, so there is no need to go out unless you want to. Needless to say, before I ventured online I hastily put a bit of extra food out for the birds. They will need it in this frozen world.

We’re hoping to venture over to the butcher’s to buy a chicken later today. Part of the reason is that we’re hoping to check if the Farmers’ Market is on tomorrow or not. They always mess around with the time at Christmas so we’re not sure what is happening. They usually put boards out advertising the market a day or two in advance & we will pass the usual sites for the boards en route to the butcher. We’ll also get a few Xmas cards to friends delivered.

Last night we heard the sad news that a friend from Arnside days had died. Ellie was a wonderful person. By the time we got to know her well she was a retired nurse. She’d taken early retirement & was still spending a lot of time providing aromatherapy for cancer sufferers. It is ironic she herself has died from cancer. She was always a busy person – a lay preacher, parish visitor, grandmother of several children. Nothing was ever too much for her.

One year, we had a Christmas of several days with out power in our all electric flat surrounded by sub-zero temperatures and snow. It was Ellie who came down every day with flasks of tea, filled hot water bottles, mountains of toast for our breakfast. In the evening, she invited us to spend it in the warmth of their home even though the family was coming & going. A truly caring person the world is poorer for losing. My heart goes out to her husband, Ged, & her family.

 I admit, though, we weren’t surprised to hear of her demise. Last time I spoke to her she was losing the battle against cancer & sounding as though she was tiring of the fight. Sadly the cancer won.

On its way

It’s one of those beautiful mornings. The temperature is -11ْC. It was a cold night last night. I must be one of the few who sweated through the night – my internal heating system has gone back to my normal, full on at night, off in the day. The sky is a brilliant, quite watery, azure. Roofs, cars, fences, lawns, shrubs, the whole world is covered with a thick layer of frosted white – quite a transformation.

I much prefer days like this. It may be cold but it is cheering. You can wrap up against the cold but there’s nothing cheering about damp grey days. What is more, I sometimes think the damp gnaws into your bones in a way this arctic chill does not. That gnawing is unavoidable & does nothing for my aches.

We’re beginning to feel Christmas is on its way. I’m under way with the Christmas cards. Most of those that need posting are posted. We’ve got the Christmas tree down from the attic space. This afternoon we’re intending to buy a little something for Angie, our home help, to show our appreciation for all her help over the year. The Christmas dinner went well. It was good to see old friends, some of whom we hadn’t seen since the summer.

Yesterday, when we went down to the village pub, we were surprised to discover we’d won a couple of prizes in the Lancashire Day raffle. Now the Fox has a fleece to keep him warm & I have a box of chocs ready for Xmas. It feels a bit as though Christmas has arrived early.

On a non-festive note I’ve got my appointment for the MRI scan. It’s in the period between Christmas & New Year. I will be glad to get it done, then hopefully we will have a clearer idea of how severe the pancreatitis is, & whether any permanent damage has been done. I don’t feel as though there should have been as my abdomen has been fairly pain-free since my hospital stay, the odd twinge but that’s about it. Even my weight seems to be stabilising a bit now, which I would have thought was a good sign. I’m due to go to see the specialist again in January so hopefully something a bit more positive will be said. I’m certainly hoping we can start to plan a holiday in warmer climes.

An Escape

We escape to Snatchems in the afternoon. At this time of year, one of the joys of sitting in the conservatory there is that you can watch the sun setting over the river Lune. As I’ve said before this area has some fabulous sunsets as there is an unobstructed view to the west.

Last night was one of purples, pinks, oranges & brilliant glowing bright, almost turquoise, blue. The great advantage of this vantage point is that the sunset is reflected in the waters of the Lune. In places the water is as flat as any mirror; in others the strong current produces surface ripples which make the setting sun’s colour dance.

Shape is given if you look across the river to the Pennine fells on the other side of the water. Electricity pylons stride across the horizon taking the power from our local power station to the rest of the country. We are reminded of Stephen Spender’s poem “The Pylons”, a poem we both studied as part of our English Literature ‘O’ level course many years ago. For Spender pylons were a modern phenomenon. For us the wind turbines on the opposite side of the river play the same role as symbols of “the quick perspective of the future”. I wonder what future generations will find as symbols of their changing times.

Puzzled

I confess to being very puzzled. I’ve just rung the surgery to find out the results of my blood tests. All normal. Does this mean I’m miraculously cured? I can’t believe that when the blood was taken just a couple of days after a very worried specialist at the hospital reckoned I was suffering from severe pancreatitis.  Maybe it’s just as well that I’m due to go back to see that man early in the new year.

My next job is to ring back to that charity that helped me with my application for my benefit. The letter confirming my success has arrived.

Neither the Fox nor I can make much sense of it. If the Department of Works & Pensions (DWP) hadn’t phoned me last week I’m not even sure I would have realised I had got it! As it is I can’t work out whether or not I’ve got to take some action as a result.

The problem is that the DWP clearly seems to send the same standard letter whether you have been awarded the benefit or not, whether you are a new applicant or are renewing an existing benefit. The letter tries to cover all situations with the result it covers none. I’m hoping the charity can explain a few things.

By way of relief, I’m off to Rio de Janeiro with my jigsaw. That’s the sort of puzzle I’m happy to get lost in, & avoid the confusions of life.

On the way

My eyes are stinging. Why? I’ve just been grinding spices, blending them with onion, ginger & garlic to make a spicy paste to act as a marinade. We’re having pork vindaloo tonight. The meat is duly sitting in all that spiciness. However, in the process, the sharp spiciness of chilli mixed with vinegar & onion juices has got in my eyes. It’s a relief to have a little sit down before I get onto the next stage of the dinner – the actual cooking.

It’s food shop day once again. We’ve had a phase of sub-zero days so a good warm-up from a hot curry has real appeal as well as being quick & easy to warm up when we get back. Admittedly today is back to grey & wet, though milder.

For once we have no appointments this week. I’m half dreading ringing the surgery to get the results of my blood tests taken a fortnight ago. I expect them to be odd so I’m half-expecting to be called in to have them explained & to make further enquiries into my state of health. I just want a full week in which to relax a bit – no doctors, no hospitals or surgeries. Being ill has become a full time occupation. It’s exhausting!

Admittedly I was surprised when my cousin Ann rang at the weekend. She was concerned to discover if I’d had any diagnosis yet. She’s a retired nurse so has a keen interest in medical matters. When I told her yes, pancreatitis, she audibly gasped, shocked by the answer. Apparently, when she was training in the late 1960s/early 1970s, if a patient came in with pancreatitis they were expected to soon die. She hastily tried to reassure me things have improved. She knows people who have successfully managed it for years. I tried to reassure her that since my hospital stay I have felt much better. I’ve only had a few twinges, the sort of thing I wouldn’t have noted if it hadn’t been for my experiences earlier this year. I can’t believe I’m on death’s doorstep when I feel so much better & the medics are even on my case now. I still can’t help getting annoyed when I think of the doctor the second time I went to A&E, who reckoned I had a mild case of constipation & was wasting her time. She needs to do more training urgently.

Meanwhile the area around us is lighting up. Increasingly Christmas decorations are going up in house windows. Garden trees are illuminated. Santas & snowmen appear on roofs. And this is only the first week of December! We’ve even received our first Christmas card. Hand delivered by our next door neighbour. I’ve hastily dug out our cards & made a list of who to send to. That’s clearly the next job to settle down to whenever I have a minute to spare. Admittedly we had our roast turkey on Saturday. We prefer to do it early and use some nice slices warmed in a mustardy cheesy creamy mix on the day – less hassle & therefore less exhausting & more time & energy to enjoy ourselves. We’re off to a Xmas dinner later this week with other former members of Geriatrics’ Corner. It will be good to see them all again. So maybe Christmas really is on its way.