Nine Feet Underground

The usual Saturday. Pick any one of the previous however many Saturdays since I started being locked down - say late February last year - and unless there was something extraordinary it'd be similar. Actually I'm being bleak here. After the usual early rubbish I spent three hours in guided meditation with the NHS and a group of twelve or so others from 10 till 1. A useful antidote to my current sense of pointlessness, at least for three hours. After that, time to catch up on all the usual other chores, which primarily means washing.  No time to read the papers as the afternoon was peppered with phone calls: starting with my brother-in-law telling me of the funeral arrangements for my stepmother-in-law and more that I can't go into here.  I'm still under orders not to tell my wife of her stepmother's death. Bloody hell.  Her family are so bad for keeping things from one another, for fuck's sake, what is wrong with being honest and open?  Here I am, piggy in the f...

Another day of work awaits me after a lousy night's sleep owing to the boys shenanigans between midnight and 1 a.m., or thereabouts (cue lines from 'Carry on Screaming') [That would be an interesting challenge: spend a whole day only quoting lines from the film in answer to every question, or at least trying to squeeze a line from the film into each work Zoom call of the day. Hmmm. I like that idea] Back to reality, aah yes, work all day, apart from my visit to a private hospital (in the guise of an NHS patient) to see the consultant and hopefully book the operation, soon, ideally. My wife is much better this morning: it's amazing how effective a single dose of a strong antibiotic is. I suspect there are downsides and a big hit on her body and immune system, but on the other hand it's staggering how quickly a lung infection can take hold.  I've seen her poised at the gates of death too many times to underestimate how serious things can get. My brain all too easi...

Up even earlier than yesterday, owing to expected arrival of the cleaner. As it turns out she arrives, in fact almost materialises, behind the carer as she comes towards the front door. Neither of us know where she came from! The usual early morning banter with the carer follows, her services towards mental health in the community will not go unrewarded. After the carer leaves I finish making my breakfast, eating my porridge before I go and post a couple of cards in the post box up the road.  This is an early morning opportunity for a bit of exercise, so I plan to return the long way around in order to hit my first 10 minutes of brisk walking target. Back from the post box and time for coffee and work. Whilst I was eating breakfast and posting cards, the cleaner cleaned my office, so now I can get on with work - and it's only just gone 8 a.m. Crazy man! Work dominates the day though I am hoping for a message from on high, which no doubt won't come. Early evening I had a Zoom ca...

Up and dressed ahead of first carer visit, chatted with her when she arrived and took my normal daily drugs (prescription, for the avoidance of doubt). After that, with a brief diversion to post a card, it's work all day, so probably not much to see here. We'll see. Worked solidly until the evening, with a brief break for lunch/meditation. Early evening I spent a little time in the pursuit of the impossible, but otherwise it was all about bins and dinner. For the first time in well over a week we all sat down together to eat and watch another episode of 'Mr. Robot'.  We're in the home straight - the final series - and the big question is, how will it end?  Answers on a postcard, please. The end, as usual. Something from an upcoming album from Marianne Faithfull and Warren Ellis (of Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds fame) which will be an album of poetry read against a musical backdrop. This is 'She Walks In Beauty', by Lord Byron, one of my favourite poems.  This ...

Tuesday and work beckons.  Highlight of my day, so far (who are you kidding!), has been the early morning chat with the first carer of the day.  She and I share a sense of humour and she's quite happy to take the piss out of me, which is always a good way to bring me down to earth, whilst also understanding the complexity of the situation. In a moment of calm thought, as opposed to the usual flailing about trying to do things to effect change, one of the reasons I am at a low ebb became apparent.  For the whole period of lockdown, which for me has effectively been the past 12 months (owing to shielding my wife), it has been impossible to change my life because meeting people hasn't been possible. The fact that change hasn't been possible has to some extent suppressed the frustration at not being able to change things, but as the prospect of life returning starts to become a possibility, then the sense of having wasted 12 months of my life is heightened.  Not only a l...

Weekend's gone in a flash and tomorrow I'm back to work.  It wouldn't be so grim if the three days off actually included time spent on something remotely uplifting instead of all this deathless making do (but not mending). Fuck's sake. Here I am again then. Is there a relationship between effort and achievement or even desire and result? There are those that would have you believe that, but I can categorically refute it.  I have all the proof and evidence to show that there is no link between those pairs. I seem to have made it my mission to disprove those relationships. In the process I will succeed in wearing myself down, crushing myself to the darkest densest black hole, which would be an achievement, of sorts. I pick myself up and do another day again in the face of total disinterest.  Sorted out flowers for my father-in-law.  Card in hand (not bird, sadly) How have a I frittered away the hours of my life today in the pursuit of futility?  Written a review o...

There was a possibility I'd've got up earlier today to chat with the first carer, but this proved unnecessary and instead I stayed in bed, trying to sleep. I don't seem to have had any real side-effects from the Pfizer Covid vaccination other than a slight tenderness in my arm around the injection site. Felt a bit like a bruise, but no sign of bruising to the skin around the site. Next one please! (At the GP surgery they told me the next one should be in about 11 weeks. Let's hope so.) As noted previously I am finding life a bit of a slog at the moment, and this is not just down to Covid and being stuck at home.  The need to change my life has never been more apparent. It's making my non-working days a real slog: I just feel like I am wading through a bog, submerged up to my waist. Stuff to do, somehow it gets done. Early afternoon I get a call from my father-in-law with some very sad news. He's asked me not to tell my wife, which I agree to.  Thinking on after ...

Shopping Saturday, blah, blah, blah! Son #3 has been co-opted to accompany me as son #2's course continues on today - a deal has been done. During shopping I bumped into two of the women from my yoga class, one who is working in Waitrose until the John Lewis store re-opens and the other who was just out shopping.  It was good to speak to different people in real life, for a change. I am missing both doing yoga and being with the people (even if only over Zoom) whilst I do it. I hope it won't be too long before I am able to get back into it. The usual morning of chores ensues.  The eagle has landed. Son #3 and I make lunch reasonably early as he's going out walking with a friend and I want to have eaten something before my covid vaccination. Back from my Covid vaccination - had to wait around for 10-15 minutes to make sure I didn't have an adverse reaction, but it was fine.  One thing that did surprise me was how busy the town centre was. I don't know if it was just ...

Up especially early for a Friday:  our cleaner is coming today and, as always on a Friday, the first carer of the day is early too.  When the carer arrives, with the cleaner hot on her heels, I'm up, dressed and ready.  I show the carer my latest work of art whilst she is getting my wife's meds done. We share a joke and she gets on with setting the PEG feed pump up and giving meds. I seem to have returned to a lousy sleep pattern this past couple of weeks.  I'm really not sleeping well, waking often with much on my mind. This isn't helped by the twins both being up all fucking night chirpsing - I'm constantly woken by chatter and once I'm hearing it, it's hard to get back to sleep, especially given my mind is thrashing too. More drugs please! I'm off to Woodley for 8 a.m., having already breakfasted,  so that I can post something early, pick up meds from the pharmacy for me and my wife, go to the GP surgery to pick up a letter for a consultant, grab some...

Usual plan for a working weekday day ahead, give or take any surprises! Up early for first carer call of the day and so I can get started on work promptly.  Today is unusual in that the cleaner is not coming but will be tomorrow, nevertheless there are quite a few other visitors are expected. First caller of the day was a friend of the family who has set up a car valeting business and, unsurprisingly, he's here to valet my car inside and out - the first time it's been cleaned since the last service, which was quite a while ago! Not long after the main morning carer call, the next visitor was one of our GPs who came to give my wife the Oxford/Astra-Zeneca covid vaccine.  That all went without a hitch, though I'll need to keep an eye on my wife as when her immune response kicks in she'll probably get very tired because of her MS. During the lunch carer call, we get another visitor - this time one of the community/district nurses who as come to change the water in my wife...