Og's Blog Pt. 02

The hospital website has announced that oncology will continue no matter what but all other non-urgent issues will stop on 1st April. I have an appointment with a neurologist that day that I expect to be deferred

24 March 2020

I have just returned from my penultimate radiotherapy session. The last one is tomorrow afternoon. The only difference tomorrow is that the reception desk will not be manned. There will be a phone on the desk - ring this number and then clean the phone!

For those who cannot use a phone e.g. the deaf, there will be an old fashioned school bell. - Ring the bell and then clean the handle.

25 March 2020

I have just returned from my last radiotherapy session. Despite yesterday's warnings, the hospital changed its mind and the reception desk was peopled (or rather personed - one woman on duty instead of three). The other two are now working at London hospitals that need them.

My local hospital (and the two others in the group) hasn't yet had a single Covid-19 case but they are expecting that to change hourly.

My next consultant appointment on next Wednesday has been changed to a telephone consultation so I don't have to travel. I am expecting him to say 'Wait and see and come back in three months' time' so doing it by phone seems sensible.

I am booked to see the oncology consultant on May 18 if the hospital is operating normally then.

I have now finished the radiotherapy so we wait and see whether that deters the recurrence of the cancer, but it wasn't the way we wanted to celebrate our 48th Wedding Anniversary. We can't go out for a meal or have friends to visit so it will be a very low key celebration.

Edited to add PS. The bolded bit is now wrong. A pregnant woman from my town is now the first Covid-19 case in a local hospital with pneumonia on both lungs.

25 March 2020

This evening we are celebrating the end of radiotherapy and our 48th wedding anniversary.

48 years ago we had a very low key wedding in a Registry Office with immediate family and a very few friends. We were given the option of a full-scale wedding or the money towards a house purchase. Going beyond immediate family was always going to be difficult. On my side going further than my brother and his family would mean hundreds; on my wife's side it would be tens.

The house purchase was stalled a week before the wedding. We had an unexpected six week's delay but found a 'holiday' flat from where we could both go to work. Normally it wouldn't be available for six weeks but the owner had taken it off the letting list because his house was sold and completion was in three months' time. Six weeks' rent was useful even if the basement flat really needed maintenance. The new owner was going to make it into a series of games rooms for his children, ripping out the kitchen and bathroom.

The fridge needed defrosting every day. The cooker only had one working gas ring and the oven didn't work at all. Our first night together, we couldn't cook. We had to walk to the nearby Fish and Chip shop. Our first solo meal together was Fish and Chips.

On the Monday I managed to buy a secondhand tabletop electric cooker - not ideal but better than nothing.

Tonight we did slightly better - a takeaway Indian meal but again on our own.

Several of the other radiotherapy patients would be very jealous that I could eat an Indian meal a few hours after treatment. They can eat nothing but mush for days. Og's stomach seems invulnerable.

26 March 2020

Thanks to all.

My wife's oldest friend - they met when both were three years old - has just celebrated 53 years of marriage.

Just before last Christmas, one of my oldest friends celebrated 50 years of marriage. 50 years ago I was his Best Man, the only time I performed that role. They intended a large celebration but the wife was in the middle of hospital treatment for back issues so they postponed until March, and now because of Covid-19 they have postponed indefinitely.

As Best Man I had some issues to deal with:

1. While waiting outside the church the groom noticed one of his shoelaces was undone. He bent over to tie it up and split the back seam on his trousers. I produced my sewing kit - every Best Man should have one - but 2 happened. I thrust my sewing kit into the hands of the woman next to me - the groom's ex-fiancée - and rushed off. She sewed him up. 50 years later his ex-fiancée is still a friend of the husband and wife.

2. I had a frantic message from the church's parish office. The hire car bringing the bride and bridesmaids had broken down. I rushed back to my car - then a large limousine - and retrieved them. The bride was only two minutes late as I rushed down the aisle to join the groom.

3. It was a Catholic Wedding Mass but the local priest had never done one in English before. He had the assistance of the bride's uncle - a priest from Argentina who had only celebrated weddings in Latin and didn't speak much English. They didn't really know what they were doing. They told the congregation to follow me to stand, sit and kneel and they would signal to me. But I was a Protestant and had no idea how a Catholic Wedding Mass went in Latin or English and no one except the priests had a service book in English. The messages from the two priests were contradictory. After the first ten minutes I decided to play it by instinct. As I was very definite in my actions the congregation followed me exactly even if the priests sometimes looked surprised when they turned around from the altar.

But my friends were satisfactorily married even if the two priests afterwards admitted the groom's choice of a protestant as Best Man had meant I had confused them during the service. After a few glasses of wine they admitted that they had been nervous and my definite signals to the congregation had covered up their errors.

26 March 2020

50 years ago - the Wedding Reception

The wedding reception was to be held in the bride's flat above a shop that she had been sharing with three men - none of whom were her fiancé.

The three men had provided the food for the wedding guests. The plan was to hold a formal reception for the relations, some of whom were elderly and very distinguished, while the friends gathered in a private room in the public house across the road. At 6 pm the formal reception would end and the friends would gather for an all-night party.

After I had made my Best Man's speech I was with the friends across the road. It was just before Christmas so after a few drinks we started singing Christmas Carols. Our 'private' room was only separated from the main bar by a head-height partition and in the bar, the staff of the local Tesco supermarket were having their staff Christmas party. They joined in the carol singing and soon both groups were inextricably mixed.

After an hour the relations decided that the formal reception was boring and all trooped across the road to join the friends. Some of them treated us to a demonstration of the Argentinian tango and sung carols in Spanish. The Bride and Groom joined us as all their guests at the reception were now in the public house.

At six clock both the friends and relations returned to the flat for the party. The relations decided, despite their ages, that they were going to party all night too - and did.

At 3 am I was sitting on the stairs - the only quiet place in the whole flat - with the two bridesmaids. They were twin twelve-year-old girls, cousins of the bride, but living in London. I had a bridesmaid on each knee with their heads resting on my shoulders, both sound asleep. I had an empty beer glass in one hand and a lit Cuban cigar in the other.

I was slightly embarrassed when their father passed on the way to the toilet.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked, before thanking me for looking after his daughters. I said it was part of the Best Man's duties to protect the bridesmaids.

When he returned he took my empty beer glass and replaced it with a full one.

26 March 2020

This morning I had a letter cancelling my medical appointment for next Tuesday. I was expecting it. It was for an annual eye check-up for changes caused by diabetes. My eyesight was checked at the hospital last week.

On Wednesday I was due to see a neurological consultant for a progress report. That has been changed to a telephone consultation.

26 March 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by yukonnights View Post

Well, dang! Now you're all fixed up and ready to get out again — and this stupid virus has you in lock-down But, your a survivor and this too will pass

At least I can look at the sea from all rooms except the downstairs toilet. I can sit on the john in my ensuite and watch the sea.

26 March 2020

I am pleased that I am not going back to the oncology unit soon.

I was very unpopular with most other patients because I had no side effects from chemotherapy apart from losing some of my hair. I still kept most of my beard and fuzz on top of my head. Both are now regrowing including on the bald patch I had had for a decade. Many of the other patients went completely bald especially the women who were distressed by their hair loss. Seeing my beard was a reminder that not everyone lost all hair.

Radiotherapy was similar. After the first session, all I felt was some bloating as if I had eaten too much of a medium-hot curry. After the next ones - no reaction at all but most of the other radiotherapy patients had a sore throat and difficulty in swallowing. They had to live on invalid preparations and ice cream while I was eating anything and everything. Even after the first session we stopped off at a cafe for a full English Breakfast. Maybe that, not the radiotherapy, caused the bloating. I am supposed to lose my chest hair where the radiotherapy was sited. Nope!

The nurses and doctors can't understand it. They were expecting more side-effects. They had to reassure me that despite my lack of reaction the treatments were actually working.

27 March 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by fifty5 View Post

I have to live on soup, yoghurt and medicines (things I can swallow), but my GP has had me checked me for cancer and nothing was found.

Keep on going Ogg, you'll outlive us all!

My wife gets annoyed with me. I have to take pills for my diabetes. Some of them are larger than any she could swallow and I take two at a time.

27 March 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by JamesMiehoff View Post

Your story brings to mind a long standing theory of mine, "The length of a marriage is directly proportional to the number and severity of the catastrophes that occur during the wedding."

My favorite example of this was at a friend's wedding, as the minister asked if there was any objection to this union, the church was struck by lightning. 40+ years later they are still happily married.

James

This story of mine was based on a real event affecting my father's friends.

https://www.literotica.com/beta/s/golden-wedding

[Link left since it is internal to Literotica]

They have now been married for twenty (or seventy!) years.

28 March 2020

I have just received two letters from the NHS.

One was the expected "You are at severe risk" letter.

The other was a reminder to attend IN PERSON a consultation at our local hospital on Wednesday. I had already had a phone call changing that to a telephone consultation.

Even more stupid was that the reminder letter contradicts the 'severe risk' letter AND states they don't have a current telephone number for me when they telephoned me yesterday. Doh!

28 March 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by Handley_Page View Post

Could this be a case of the left hand not talking to the right?

Yes. When I rang the appointments clerk he sighed.

Yes. they have my phone number. No. I shouldn't attend. ALL appointments have been changed to telephone consultations. He was pissed off because they had sent standard letters, including the part about not having telephone numbers, to everyone having an appointment next week.

Every time I have been at hospital this year they have checked my name, my date of birth, my address and telephone number at least three times on every visit.

7 April 2020

This afternoon I went out into my front garden overlooking the sea.

The wind was blowing my hair - the first time that has happened since chemotherapy reduced the hair on my head to a fuzz. It is growing back.

It was only when I reached the front wall that I realised that I had left my walking stick in the kitchen. That is the furthest I have walked for months without a stick, and I hadn't even noticed!

7 April 2020

Thanks, people.

I was told that the chemotherapy might take a couple of months to improve my symptoms. It seems to be true - but it would be great to lose my double vision.

I am still typing like a pirate with an eyepatch.

9 April 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by R. Richard View Post

Well, there is your problem. Pirates use a cutlass, not a stick.

As I said in another post when young my father's office was lined with Naval Cutlasses used and damaged during the battle of Trafalgar.

I used to practice cutlass drill with them, and the now obsolete naval exercise of double cutlass swinging. Cutlasses were heavy but they improved my shoulder and arm muscles.

Cutlass swinging was probably stopped because the risk of an accident with a sharp blade was high. Even 150 years after Trafalgar the cutlasses were sharp even if showing damage from use in combat.

This is a video of cutlass drill ( from 0.30):

[Link removed in accordance with Lit's rules]

9 April 2020

More on Trafalgar...

In my father's office, there was a brass plaque on the wall to commemorate that Nelson's body was stored there before shipping back to England.

That office and the whole complex was demolished in the 1990s despite protests from local historical bodies.

But our official residence in the Old Naval Hospital had history too. The main living room had been an operating theatre where many amputations had been carried out after Trafalgar. It was being used as a hospital until the 1930s.

The key to our coal cellar - a vaulted chamber with a masonry arched ceiling - had a brass tag saying 'X-Ray room'.

9 April 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by LWulf View Post

...

Sorry, but are you bringing that up because you're using the cutlasses for physical therapy?

No. That would be too dangerous. It was dangerous then but my instructor was one of my father's colleagues, an ex-Royal Navy Chief Petty Officer, who had taught cutlass drill to recruits in the 1930s.

I try to keep fit within my limitations but swinging a cutlass would worry my neighbours. I can't do it indoors. Although my house was built in 1939 the ceilings are too low. My father's office had 15 feet ceilings.

9 April 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by trysail View Post

You have got to be shitting me.

Talk about preparing to "fight the last war!"

WTF? Was the Admiralty expecting the crew of H.M.S. Rodney to repel boarders from the Graf Spee?

They are supposed to have used cutlasses in 1940 when boarding the German supply vessel Altmark in what was then Norwegian neutral waters to free 300 British merchant seaman taken captive by the Graf Spee, but the use of cutlasses is disputed.

Cutlass drill and cutlass swinging were part of The Royal Tournaments until the 1960s, as was the field gun race, based on an incident in the Boer War and using field guns of the 19th century.

PS: One of the first orders given to naval officers at the start of the First World War in 1914 was 'sharpen swords'!

10 April 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by jehoram View Post

Well, one thing about cutlasses is that they don't run out of bullets.

And a group of sailors waving cutlasses scares the shit out of civilian rioters. The rioters 'know' the British won't shoot but a cutlass is different.

PS. Unfortunately, the idea that the British won't shoot rioters is mistaken even when the people aren't actually rioting. But the British wouldn't think twice about advancing with drawn cutlasses or fixed bayonets. If you don't get out of the way you're going to meet cold steel.

11 April 2020

Quote:

Originally Posted by Blind_Justice View Post

Out of curiosity: What's a field gun race? Cursing soldiers dragging artillery pieces across a stretch of tricky terrain?

This is a field gun race:

[Link removed in accordance with Lit's rules]

I used to take part in a boy scout version with trek carts, dismantling it to cross a 'chasm'. I carried the heaviest item - the chassis.

In the 1960s the Royal Dockyards thought of entering teams for the Field gun races. I was selected and trained for Devonport but they decided that the Dockyards should not compete so we were stood down.

+++

From General Board

19 April 2020

Yes, I was bronzed. I had a summer in the UK, a month traveling by ship to Australia, then an Australian summer learning to be a surf lifeguard, another Australian summer, back to the UK by ship for another month and then a UK summer. I spent much of my summers on the beach.

I started work in Portsmouth with a strong tan and a bleached blond crewcut. I still had the tan when I moved to Plymouth and spent all my spare time outdoors, riding on Dartmoor, and being an assistant outward bound instructor trained by the Royal Marine Commandos.

I pissed the Commandos off by completing their assault course faster than anyone except an instructor, and setting a record for circumnavigation of a cliffy island around the cliffs without touching the top or bottom of the cliffs and with no aids, not even a safety rope. The previous record, held by a Commando, was 28 minutes. I did it in thirteen and even now, decades later, no one has come close. My record will probably stand for ever as Health and Safety would prohibit any attempt now. But I was a member of the local cliff rescue team so I had more experience of cliffs than any commando. PS:

One thing that really annoyed the Commandos's NCOs was that I was a civilian in a defence establishment with a courtesy rank that equated to a Royal Marine Major. I was entertained in officer country.

Yet I was fitter and faster than almost every Commando. That hurt.

19 April 2020

Problems with anchors.

In one of my posts I was responsible, among other things, for the stock of anchors for the Royal Navy.

1. A week after I had taken up the position my boss gave me a fat file to sort out. In 1943 the annual stocktake had recorded four thirty-ton anchors originally from pre-1900 battleships.

In September 1944 they weren't there anymore. The file recorded my predecessors' attempts to account for the missing anchors.

No. They hadn't been lost by Nazi bombing. There had been no bombs dropped anywhere near the anchors, and even if they had, you can't destroy four x thirty tons without leaving something behind.

No. They hadn't been transferred to another establishment. Previous enquiries had found no extra thirty-ton anchors in Portsmouth, Chatham or Rosyth, Scotland.

I suggested that they had been acquired to anchor the Mulberry Harbours used immediately after the D-Day invasion, either when the harbours were set up or shortly afterwards when they had been damaged in a storm.

My boss accepted that scenario and the anchors were written off as expended.

2. But, since I was such a clever-clogs, he gave me another fat file, also relating to D-Day.

In early 1944 we knew we would need to anchor the then-secret Mulberry Harbours. Somone had the bright idea of making some pyramid-shaped reinforced concrete blocks with strong attachment points for chains. Each block was fifteen feet square, ten feet high and heavy...