Nine Feet Underground

Off to the hospital later this morning for my pre-operative check, but before that I have to get a few things sorted and get together all the documents the hospital will expect me to bring. When you have an appointment to go to, which is for a set time (and the rules about arrival times and being late are much stricter under Covid), time seems to pass really quickly and the final minutes before you are meant to leave seem to just evaporate.  The morning carers have not long left and now I'm off to the hospital. I've just returned back from the hospital after returning via the scenic route, owing to diabolical traffic in town due to roadworks. On the plus side I managed a slow drive-by of the Banksy art work, which even now is attracting visitors, several weeks in.  The timing was fortuitous as the carers are already here and I need to flush my wife's catheter today. The hospital pre-op assessment was very thorough from the obvious things like weight and height (so they use

The hours of the day were consumed in a variety of ways, though the biggest chunk was taken up with a call to a friend in Berlin.  Sons 1 and 3 were both out meeting their girlfriends outdoors, one in Oxford the other in Guildford, leaving son #2, my wife and I in the house most of the day.  I will need to keep a little distance from sons 1 and 3 when they return, though son #3's girlfriend had a negative Covid test yesterday. The morning over, son #2 and I made lunch for ourselves. At 2 p.m. I began what turned out to be a marathon call with Berlin.  We are both fairly accomplished talkers and ended up chatting for over two hours: the conversation took in Covid, vaccine distribution, anti-vaxxers, Brexit, and music.  We are both big music fans though I think I probably take it up a level or three, both in terms of the number of albums I have and also the breadth of music that I listen to.  Nevertheless he and his wife's rediscovery of vinyl and high-resolution streamed music (

Another day in a series of unending days of minimal variability. Did stuff, none of it remotely worth mentioning, or even actually contributing one iota towards anything positive. Time used up. Wasted. Like water escaping from a leaky dam. Every drop slipping through my fingers, unable to stop it being lost. Had a couple of calls during the day, the second of which was with my sister up north.  It is good to talk but sometimes it all seems empty, pointless and futile. Just a load of words spewed out contributing nothing meaningful. Lots of words which ultimately amount to 'we're both here and we care about each others continued existence' . I think that's it, in truth. [ “I have never seen battles quite as terrifyingly beautiful as the ones I fight when my mind splinters and races, to swallow me into my own madness, again.”] An anniversary: I started writing this lockdown diary one year ago today and have written an entry pretty much every day since, barring operations,

Did all the usual Saturday morning things, with son #3 accompanying me shopping. Diversions, diversions.  The day started quite sunny and so I hung the washing out, though as the loads progressed the amount of sun reduced until there was none. Only the wind, given the temperature was nothing to write home about, was making any inroads into drying said washing. Whilst meditating late morning, I was disturbed by what sounded like the piston engines of a heavy-ish propeller plane. Sure enough when I looked out of the window there was a Dakota in D-Day RAF markings heading south-east.  It's a rare sound these days, so I had to look but as it disappeared from view, but then returned to meditation. During a conversation with a friend I discovered it had come from White Waltham and a quick bit of research on the net showed that it had departed White Waltham that morning (in the company of another) en-route to Lydd airfield in Kent. Around lunchtime I had a call from my father-in-law, the

The weather and the way I'm feeling are in sync today, which is probably something, though I'm not sure what. I am on leave but I am still not really in a good place, made even more apparent by not having the distraction of work. Not that seeking solace in work is a good thing - I've been down that road before, and don't want to return - but I am struggling to find an alternative.  There is always alcohol but that's another road too well-travelled and again, I don't want to go back there again either.  Sleep seems to be the only safe place. I think Sylvia Plath was on to something: “ I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to. ” (If you italicise a full-stop, can anyone tell?) Somehow I occupied myself during the morning, partly trying to get the tap fixed, and with other stuff that needed doing. After lunch I started the next lesson in my 'History

Got up at 6, showered and dressed, easily managing to be ready for the carer when she arrived at about quarter to seven, followed five or so minutes later by the cleaner. No flies on me, mate! As usual, or rather as usual when I'm working, I asked the cleaner to do my office after the carer had gone.  It has to wait for the carer to finish attending to my wife as her bedroom is just outside my office around the corner.  They'd get in each other's way if their activities weren't suitably segregated. Once my office is done I return to begin work, but not before I've finished off a card/letter I'm sending to a friend.  A brief time-slice for me to post the letter, then back to work for the rest of the day, usual interruptions aside.  Today has one added interruption: one of the district nurses is due to come to empty/refill my wife's PEG balloon, this has the added excitement that I don't know when it will happen. Thrills, spills and chills! All change: Car

Another busy working day ahead, made busier by the fact that I'm on leave Friday for a week. A week when we were due to go away, but it got cancelled for the obvious reason. I don't think we would have been able to go even if the destination was open because I don't think there's anywhere that would take my wife for respite and, even if there were, I'm not sure I'm convinced that a care home would be a safe place as things stand.  So a week of going nowhere it is then. Come to think of it that's the same as any other week, though work does provide a distraction.  I have just over a week stuck with myself. Work, with the usual interruptions. Dinner, 'Narcos: Mexico', bins, sleep/escape. Max Richter / 'Dream 3 (in the midst of my life' / 'Sleep' [[]]

Just to keep me on my toes the 'new' early carer arrived 30 minutes later than yesterday at ten past seven. I wonder what time she'll arrive tomorrow? Back to work, though I am only working three days this week, then off for a week, Friday to Friday. Originally we were meant to be going away, but that got canned, as I'm sure it has for many people. Slight trepidation about the time I'll have to spend with me, but I guess I'll have to see how it goes without the distraction of work. I have to start two weeks of self-isolation from Friday, in theory, too. I went for a walk late afternoon with son #2 so that he could drop off a parcel for return. It was almost a 50 minute walk which I enjoyed, though by the end my hernia was making its presence felt. Returned to work to make up for the lost time, before beginning the usual evening stuff. Dinner ended up being very late and son 1 and 2 watched the final episode of the last series of HIGNFY whilst son #3 'Rocket

The usual early morning carer is on leave this week and so I was somewhat surprised to have to wake up and get out of bed at twenty to seven in the morning. One of the other carers, who has never done the early round before and so started much earlier because she wasn't sure how long it would take, had arrived at the front door and rung the bell. I think it's going to be an interesting week! My non-working day, something of a mixed blessing of late, but I decided to try and keep myself busy with stuff... ...starting with changing my bed and washing all the linen. This gave me an opportunity to switch to the 'summer' duvet in honour of the Spring / Vernal equinox on Saturday morning (20th March).  I decided to air both the 'winter' and 'summer' duvets outside.  I'm not sure what good it will do, but I imagine it might in some way, so I've done it. T hree washes later and all the linen - plus some of son #3s - is hanging outside in sun. The morning

The same goes for Sunday as for Saturdays (see Saturday). One of the morning's chores was to do the census. It's a right pain in the arse when there's five of you in a house, especially if any of you have ever worked. Got to a certain point when I found there were questions I couldn't answer for each of my sons, so I saved it to complete later. Spent the rest of the morning trying keep myself busy and keep my mind distracted. It's a valiant effort but it takes a lot to occupy my brain and there seems to be a deeply embedded circuit that is always capable of surfacing thoughts I don't want unless I'm doing something all-consuming. There aren't many things my brain finds all-consuming, at least not currently, which re-engages that circuit. After making lunch with son #2, I sat and watched a documentary called ' Blitzed: The 80s Blitz Kids' Story' on Sky Arts.  I actually started it on Saturday afternoon and plan to try and finish it in bits tod

Saturdays are a major let-down these days. No work, which is nice, but nothing really to fill the void, except for chores and when they are exhausted, there you are stuck inside your own head, with no company other than your own rampaging thoughts, hellbent on maximum damage. Ever was it thus. Given the above, you'll forgive me for not being overly thrilled by the prospect of Saturday and feeling that the best thing would be not wake up again until Tuesday again (at the earliest) when I can do the work thing all over again. Round and round, hamster trapped in the wheel, not knowing why it's doing it other than because it's what it does. Cue The Stranglers. The day passes as predictably as it seemingly always does, though I don't know exactly where the time has gone - I haven't read the papers; I haven't read any of my book club book; and I haven't stopped and listened to any music. A chunk of the afternoon was spent on the phone with my mother-in-law, a regu

Normal Friday, excepting that one of the main carers is off for a week's well-deserved leave.  It's going to be a quiet week and I'll have to make sure I don't anything crazy in her absence. History is not on my side. Work is the order of the day with the usual mix of writing documents, receiving knowledge (KT), chasing access to documentation and gradually learning about retail supply chain and warehousing with EPOS thrown in for added excitement. There's always more. Obviously nothing can top the level of excitement that the above has generated, so making dinner is a bit of a comedown.  I'm making some kind of sausage hot pot with the help of son #3. As we've finished 'Mr. Robot' it's time to choose a new series to watch, and this time its son #3's choice.  Son #3 has wanted to watch 'Narcos: Mexico' for ages, ever since we watched the original 'Narcos', set in Colombia. I must admit to not being as keen, but this way democr

Up early for the cleaner today - she's back into her old habits of getting here before 7 a.m.  On the plus side it does mean I get up and ready much earlier.  Given I've got the afternoon off work as compassionate leave, then it means I can start earlier, get more done. The carer arrives about 30 minutes later, though with the cleaner here our chat is little less engaged than usual, not that I spend every day banging on about the same shit, but walls have ears, as well as sausages and ice creams (different walls, I believe?) Apart from a brief trip to the Post Office to post a message in a bottle, it's work all the way through to lunchtime. The laptop we have is old and used to belong to my wife. It has been upgraded to Windows 10, but is a bit creaky and barely has the grunt (neither CPU nor RAM) to run anything.  Nevertheless I am planning to use it to attend the online funeral, so start it early (it takes about 10 minutes to start) - 2 hours early - to try and reduce the

The usual working Wednesday, not much to say about it. Time passes, work happens, the working day ends. Boring stuff to do in the early evening, followed by dinner, 'Mr. Robot' (the penultimate episode), a bit of Bill Bailey, then sleep, ideally. ['Mr. Robot' has dropped the near-equivalent to a 'Lost' or a 'Dallas' (not that I watched it, though Victoria Principal did raise the level of interest a tad, but one episode (maybe two) are the stuff of TV legend) and now has one episode to see if I can accept it or not.  I guess what went before has mostly been good and 'Darlene' brought life to the screen as an added bonus (carefully spelt)] John Martyn / 'Baby, Please Come Home' / 'Grace and Danger' [There's a lot I could write about 'Grace and Danger' and John Martyn, but I'm really not in the right place. Another time, hopefully] [[]]

Back to work.  Work continues to be busy which, within certain previously tested limits, is a useful way to keep my mind distracted. Beyond that, not a lot.  There seem to be a lot of things to organise concerning my wife's care at the moment, which generates more work, mainly in the form of phone calls and emails in the first instance, at least. The details of my stepmother-in-law's funeral are now through and, after a conversation with work, I am having the afternoon off as compassionate leave.  I hadn't asked for it, but my manager offered it, and on reflection I realised it was a good idea.  I am so use to having things to deal with, I don't stop to think about the impact they have on me, occasionally with less than good outcomes. The day progresses as a working day usually does. I start cooking the dinner, joined a bit later by son #2, and eventually we sit down (three out of four - son #3 is engaged in his 'Rocket League' tournament) and watch 'Reginal

Just about dragged myself out of bed in time for the first carer visit of the day.  We have a chat about this and that, mainly that, and she gives her usual brutally direct opinion, which I always welcome. I always find a way to have nuanced approaches to things, maybe cutting people way more slack than they deserve, but I always try and see things from the other side, it's just the way I am. It often leads to me getting kicked in the proverbial bollocks (as opposed to the actual ones, though I'm still not sure which is worse in the long run), as other people often don't have any qualms, full stop. The end. I don't exactly know how my morning was spent, other than it was. It went. Guess I was writing some stuff, though not here, doing the final bits of organising for Thursday's funeral, probably trying to distract myself from other things poking me in the brain cell at every opportunity when I'm not looking. After lunch I made a concerted effort to read some mor

Had planned to get up when the first carer of the day arrived, primarily to speak to someone I can actually talk openly and honestly with, but in the end, though I heard her arrive, I was still close enough to oblivion that I preferred to stay there, sleep still being better than the alternative. Usual stuff done, even managing to read the papers before lunch. Still not in the right frame of mind to concentrate on reading enough to focus on the book club book, though.   Over lunch I watched the Sky Arts documentary 'Poly Styrene: I am a Cliché'.  By turns it was funny, sad, and very moving. Marianne's daughter did a great job of telling a warts and all story, with honesty and compassion. The boys did Mother's Day for their mum, mid-afternoon. Though she didn't really open her eyes, she did acknowledge that she could smell the flowers the boys bought.  The other gifts, especially the essential olis for the diffuser, will get used over the coming days. After that, tim

Started the day chatting to the first carer, in her capacity as surrogate Virginia Ironside, though much younger and also far more likely to take the piss. Which, of course, is good. After shopping, son #1 and I were talking about my wife's decline from when she was diagnosed with MS back in 2009, to where things are now. Sometimes it's good to talk things over even if you cannot change anything, except maybe what you think and feel. Not necessarily the ideal thing for me to talk about right now, but it's important for the boys to talk about things when they need to, and there's only me, so there it is.  All the usual BS follows and once the washing is underway, I contact the funeral directors to discuss flowers for next week's funeral, followed by a call to a local (to the funeral) florists.  Flowers eventually identified and paid for with only the words to finalise.  I've already written the words, at least the first draft, I just need to share with the boys a

Not much to say, really. Work dominates the day, though the usual things happen to punctuate periods of listening, watching, absorbing, note-taking, questioning, and writing. Peak excitement came when the hospital called about my forthcoming (unless it comes fifth after a photo-finish) operation. The question is do I want to follow the 'green path' or the 'green plus path'? There isn't a black one or a left-hand one, so after a little explanation I confirm I'll be following the 'green path' in the two weeks prior to my triple incision: it would literally be impossible to follow the 'green plus path', given how life is in this house. After that, you may be surprised, back for more work. As the working day comes to a close I realise I need to send a couple of urgent-ish emails regarding my benefits choice for the year 2021-2022 and actually start planning what I'm going to go for. Time is running out and I always seem to delay doing these non-c

Work until early evening, when I joined the Idler Drinks with this week's guest, Chris Difford, of Squeeze and solo song writing fame. Interesting and temporarily diverting chat which roamed far and wide across his career and what he's doing under lockdown.  More of that, including monthly (I think) online socials with guests in aid of charities (see here for more info on all Chris's activities) and much more.   Early on in the chat he talked of the early days of writing with Squeeze co-conspirator Glenn Tillbrook, when they were much taken and influenced by the songs of Todd Rundgren, which I enjoyed hearing about. The interview ended with an impromptu acoustic rendition of 'Cool For Cats' from Chris's shed/den. After that son #2 and I started making chicken and black bean enchiladas from a recipe off the BBC Good Food website. Prep time is always longer than their estimates - and that was with two of us doing parallel tasks. Usual series of events, accompanie

Work Recent events have consigned me to a not so good place.  It seems like I can't fix things, which makes it even more difficult.  Just got to sort things out, even if only from my perspective. Things may go a bit quiet for a while. Work Usual Wednesday rubbish culminating in dinner, 'Mr. Robot', then a welcome escape from reality. This tune has been rattling around my brain for a few days now, so this should exorcise the demon: 'Music Plans' from Yellow Magic Orchestra's (aka YMO's) album 'BGM' ('BGM' being an abbreviation for 'Background Music', a deliberately ironic title, particularly given the drum patterns and sound palette at work on the album, which was at the forefront of technology when it was released)  [[]]

Back to work.  Feet firmly put in it. Hopefully I can salvage something from the wreckage, but it's really not looking good. The extent of the damage will be clear over the next 24-36 hours. Fingers etc crossed. Work Went for a late afternoon walk with son #2 to the Post Office and back, hitting my target of over 30 minutes brisk walking, and also activating my hernia. Work again... Later this evening I have a video call with friends planned.   Good catch-up with friends for 90 minutes or so, courtesy of Google Meet, which was ended by the arrival of my dinner pretty much bang on 8:30 p.m.  Look forward to another catch-up soon, maybe in person, outdoors, if the restrictions are lifted according to schedule? Dinner. 'South Park'. Sleep.  This seems to be the song for the prevailing winds. The Cure. 'Same Deep Water As You'. From 'Disintegration' [[]]

'Oh, baby, I'm dreaming of Monday' Well, here it is then.  Chatting with first carer of the day a little after 7 a.m.  After she leaves, I get showered, dressed and eat my porridge. As everyone knows, you can never get enough washing. Never a day goes by without me thinking: 'Is there anything I can wash?' Today the answer is emphatically 'YES!' A fuck-ton (s.i. unit, in case you were wondering) of bed linen. My heart is ablaze. Despite the excitement of washing, I somehow manage to tear myself away to finish the papers, and read some more of the book club novel, 'Potiki'. At lunchtime the self-same carer says she hung washing outside and so, not to be outdone, I do the same, with brass knobs on. Late afternoon son #2 is ready to go for a walk (it's almost 5 p.m. but still light), so I bring the washing in (three loads!) and resolve to decide what needs further drying after we return from our walk.  At times I wonder how manage to sustain these l

Motivation at a low ebb and didn't manage to get up and dressed in time for the second carer call of the day.  Sometimes you just have to roll with the punches, I guess. Made myself some breakfast and then set about trying to pick myself up and start again.  Loads of boring stuff to do, including changing my bed today, unbridled excitement. Written some stuff, read a fair bit of the papers (reminds me I ought to be reading the book club book - it's short though densely printed, which would give me time to read some other stuff) and done some of the chores. After lunch I decided to test the water with regards to the consultant's comments about being able to do yoga.  I attempted to sit in yoga easy pose for as longs as I could stand and see if it had any impact on my hernia.  I managed twelve minutes but things started hurting and remained so for a while afterwards.  I decided not to go for yoga tomorrow, but will persevere with a few more poses and retry sitting again this