Good Lord
Saturday September 27th 2008, 3:52 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

 

For the first time since my return home
I awoke and arose with a clear head
It was Thursday morning
The fuzzy fog had lifted
Which is probably why my fingers are tapping away in correspondance
I made myself a coffee
And returned to my copy of Moby Dick
And the quiet of the empty house
Grandma Dial…who has been here a month helping out
Whilst I was a useless broken ribcage
Had returned to her home in Spain
So all the household chores are mine now
But I don’t mind
The quiet is beautiful
So beautiful
That I have considered getting a Grandmother clock
So I can just garnish the silence with tocking and the odd chime
I have tinnitus
Which pretty much rogers the silence
So I need the garnish

I checked my recuperation hand book
Week 4
And I am allowed to play darts again
Also I can drive (normal cars)
And the twice daily walks are now 25 mins long
Including small hills
My recuperation has also started to include dipping my toe into
“The Wright Stuff” every morning
And as his morning drifted into mine
They mentioned the national MacMillan coffee morning
Mmmm
There is one going on at my local Church “All Saints”
Perhaps I will pop along
I have become familiar with the local church of late
Mainly because they put on free recitals throughout the summer
Though the last month had been stunted by a few incompatibles
I don’t like solo male voice (cept soprano)
Pianos don’t sound good in the church void
And another was an organ recital
Which may as well have been a bagpipe recital
Last thursday was outstanding though
A string quartet playing Mehndelson and Tschaikovsky
I have to be careful though
I was born into catholic slavery
I only escaped
When we all moved to the heathen seaside town of Withernsea
Where barbarism and fishing were the main concern

I certainly am in better spirits
Having endured the trials of the previous week
Which included my skin going through a phase
Whereby the whole of my chest felt sunburned
And I couldn’t bear to wear any tops
Or cover myself with the duvet
I also developed some awful secondary muscle problems
That came from dragging myself around in a shit posture
In fact…they were hurting more than my chest at one point
Fortunately Mrs Dial is an expert masseuse
And has been winding the knots out as they appear
Often in a painful explosion

There
A small paragraph about my recovery
It’s nothing
Considering all the time I have at my disposal
I should be taking the opportunity to log the details
To cover a heart operation and recovery by blog
Really let folks know what it’s like on a daily basis
But it aint that simple
It fuddles your mind
The willpower is fractured
Mostly when I think about the blog
It’s just a blurry idea

I did my stretching exercises
And donned my jacket
Heading for the door
To go for my 25 min walk
Before the recital at the church
As I turned the latch
The phone started ringing in the lounge
I turned…with a puzzled frown
That phone is like the red phone on commisionar Gordon’s desk
It rarely rings
I huffed and shuffled back into the flat

As I head for the phone
I will relevisce
Winding my mind back to last summer
And some lazy quiet midweek afternoons
When often I would dally in deepest Hove
At around just after lunchtime
Because I knew that a doctor from The Priory
Would soon be setting off to South Surrey by taxi
If I was the first car on area 37 then twould be I who took him
I did this job six times
Picking him up from Hove Priory (rehab clinic)
And taking him to another Priory in Surrey
Once there I would have to wait for him (paid) for three or four hours
Before returning him

On the first two occaisions
I took long walks in the thick lush North Downs
On my third visit I stayed at the centre
Resting in the lovely surroundings
And in doing so met a few of the residents
They were a curious mix
One guy in particular…I chatted with on three straight occaisions
In fact we whiled away a good number of hours sitting in the garden chatting
His name was ‘Stocks’
He was in there because he was a sex addict
He explained that life amongst the wealthy gave you access to places
Not unlike the Hellfire clubs
Which led to unbridled carnal freedom
Though he was very grateful that crack made him throw up
As some of his friends were now ruined gollum like creatures
And a couple were dead
Our great common bond
Was that we were both surrounded by the world of cars as we grew up in the seventies
And we talked with great nostalgic relish
Of course his relish was more extravagant than mine
And a marker to this was parked outside
1966-1991-jensen-interceptor-18

The dashing Jensen Interceptor

On my last visit
He was no longer there
Another resident
A heroin addict called Frenchie
Told me he had gone
And reffered to him as the ‘Loose Lord’
And then again as Lord Stockdale
Apparently he was titled

Well I picked up the batphone
And it was Lord Stockdale
He had taken my number back then
In case I fancied doing any chauffeur work
But he wasn’t calling about that
At first we exchanged pleasantries
I told him about my unexpected operation and layoff
He told me he had kept a good straight line since last year
And then he got to the reason for his call
It was about an idea I had talked about during our long discussions
Creating a catalogue of British classic cars for the internet
A Photographic Ark
One example of each
All photographed in the same format
He had spoken to some of his elders about the idea
And they liked it
And were willing to fund the expenses
If I could meet him at The Griffin on Sunday
We could thrash out the details of how to go about it
He rang off

I was surprised
And excited
And I walked much quicker and further than usual
Until I sat down on a bench for a breather
And a thought crossed my mind
All this spare time for recuperation
All this space for my mind and body to rest
And still I can’t shake the feeling that I am rushing headlong into something



One More Day
Tuesday September 09th 2008, 4:00 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized


By early evening yesterday
I had found myself a comfortable spot
Much like a cat walking around in circles
It was the front right corner of our bed
I could rest my legs on the poof
And lay back on a stack of pillows
Catching the evenings rays of sunshine
Beaming through at an angle
Heating me…and repairing me
I laid there for some time
Until the smell of dinner came floating through
And I thought I better get up
And go for my walk
For I must rest for two hours after a main eat

The evening was still clement and busy with pedestrians
These walks seem to be getting easier
But despite tonights ease
I decided to stop and rest for a while on the bench
I watched people buzzing around with directness
And sat and inhaled the wonderful toasted smell of the corner pizzeria
If I can’t each their shit anymore
I am gonna enjoy the smells instead
I inhaled for ten minutes and returned home

Slowly I worked my way through a chicken roast
It was delicious
Since my hunger strike at the hospital
My appetite was back…stronger than I can remember it
And I ate the lot with relish
Two hours later I felt the best I had felt all week
I could feel it inside me
The food was the main key
The Numskulls inside… once they had taken delivery of supplies
Got real busy making repairs
By eleven o clock…for the first time
I felt a sleepy tiredness
As opposed to exhaustion
I switched off a funny episode of ‘Have I got news your for you’
With the first chance of falling properly asleep
It took maybe twenty minutes
But I did it

However the eye boggling turbulence that is going on in my traumatised mind
Had not gone anywhere
I hit sleep alright…but my mind raged
I awoke at two in the morning
With three hours unassisted sleep in the bag
My eyes seemed to be still open
But in front of me was a large screen
There were eight touchscreen options
Each option was a different Jaguar racing car
With a type and model number
My mind seemed to be informing me that the reason that I had awoken was to make an adjustment to these choices
It was vital that I made the correct selection before going back to sleep
Fuck this…I sat up and opened my eyes
I was covered head to foot in sweat
The mind was still pressing the issue as I sat there dripping
I sat up and toweled myself down
Got up and went to the toilet
As I stood there having a piss
I told myself
Spencer…The reason man goes to sleep is to get a rest that is all
Then I had the oddest sensation
That I didn’t believe what I had just said to myself
The touchscreen thing
I recalled it from hospital
It happened in the middle of the night before
There were many more boxes to choose that night
I drifted as I pissed
Yeah there were lots of boxes
And they were transparent
There was a countryside scene behind them
And when my ethereal hand lifted to select one
The colour of the text changed
And the screen rolled out another set of choices
And I was attracted to the colour of the right choice
I pressed it and was allowed to go back to sleep
“There you go” said my mind
I walked back to the couch bewildered and laid down
I tried to find the jaguar screen
But it was gone and I fell back to sleep again

At four o clock I awoke again
In fact I was hopelessly awake
I was starving
The numskulls were out of supplies
My stomach was a hollow whirl
Food was the only route back to sleep
What could I eat
Mmmmmm…..
Then my bowels released a fart of crawling napalm
God
I lifted the duvet
Raised my hand
And issued a royal wave
Curiously wanting to sample the gas
Fuck…that was bad
A combination of sheep carcass and u-bend syrup
Lord Above what a stink
I threw off the duvet
As two more were ejected
God…I could sell this to the armed forces
It occurred to me that this could linger too much
I looked at the window
But I was not strong enough to lift it
I gave up and went to the kitchen
Selected two large roast potatoes and a banana and a glass of water
And returned to the couch

This is why I am on the couch



One More Day
Tuesday September 02nd 2008, 4:18 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized


By early evening yesterday
I had found myself a comfortable spot
Much like a cat walking around in circles
It was the front right corner of our bed
I could rest my legs on the poof
And lay back on a stack of pillows
Catching the evenings rays of sunshine
Beaming through at an angle
Heating me…and repairing me
I laid there for some time
Until the smell of dinner came floating through
And I thought I better get up
And go for my walk
For I must rest for two hours after a main eat

The evening was still clement and busy with pedestrians
These walks seem to be getting easier
But despite tonights ease
I decided to stop and rest for a while on the bench
I watched people buzzing around with directness
And sat and inhaled the wonderful toasted smell of the corner pizzeria
If I can’t each their shit anymore
I am gonna enjoy the smells instead
I inhaled for ten minutes and returned home

Slowly I worked my way through a chicken roast
It was delicious
Since my hunger strike at the hospital
My appetite was back…stronger than I can remember it
And I ate the lot with relish
Two hours later I felt the best I had felt all week
I could feel it inside me
The food was the main key
The Numskulls inside… once they had taken delivery of supplies
Got real busy making repairs
By eleven o clock…for the first time
I felt a sleepy tiredness
As opposed to exhaustion
I switched off a funny episode of ‘Have I got news your for you’
With the first chance of falling properly asleep
It took maybe twenty minutes
But I did it

However the eye boggling turbulence that is going on in my traumatised mind
Had not gone anywhere
I hit sleep alright…but my mind raged
I awoke at two in the morning
With three hours unassisted sleep in the bag
My eyes seemed to be still open
But in front of me was a large screen
There were eight touchscreen options
Each option was a different Jaguar racing car
With a type and model number
My mind seemed to be informing me that the reason that I had awoken was to make an adjustment to these choices
It was vital that I made the correct selection before going back to sleep
Fuck this…I sat up and opened my eyes
I was covered head to foot in sweat
The mind was still pressing the issue as I sat there dripping
I sat up and toweled myself down
Got up and went to the toilet
As I stood there having a piss
I told myself
Spencer…The reason man goes to sleep is to get a rest that is all
Then I had the oddest sensation
That I didn’t believe what I had just said to myself
The touchscreen thing
I recalled it from hospital
It happened in the middle of the night before
There were many more boxes to choose that night
I drifted as I pissed
Yeah there were lots of boxes
And they were transparent
There was a countryside scene behind them
And when my ethereal hand lifted to select one
The colour of the text changed
And the screen rolled out another set of choices
And I was attracted to the colour of the right choice
I pressed it and was allowed to go back to sleep
“There you go” said my mind
I walked back to the couch bewildered and laid down
I tried to find the jaguar screen
But it was gone and I fell back to sleep again

At four o clock I awoke again
In fact I was hopelessly awake
I was starving
The numskulls were out of supplies
My stomach was a hollow whirl
Food was the only route back to sleep
What could I eat
Mmmmmm…..
Then my bowels released a fart of crawling napalm
God
I lifted the duvet
Raised my hand
And issued a royal wave
Curiously wanting to sample the gas
Fuck…that was bad
A combination of sheep carcass and u-bend syrup
Lord Above what a stink
I threw off the duvet
As two more were ejected
God…I could sell this to the armed forces
It occurred to me that this could linger too much
I looked at the window
But I was not strong enough to lift it
I gave up and went to the kitchen
Selected two large roast potatoes and a banana and a glass of water
And returned to the couch

This is why I am on the couch



First Day Back
Monday September 01st 2008, 1:39 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized


I was released early from hospital
Because I was doing well
I didn’t feel good
It was all just comparative
But having been out a day at home
The improvement has been rapid

Before I go any further
I have decided not to mention my account of the last week
Not for now
It was quite horrendous
And my mind is a bit of a mess
I need to pull my mind away from that hospital
I am not ungrateful
I just need to think of brighter things

Making the journey home was exhausting
Mostly all I could do was to sit down
And stare at the telly
If I wasn’t distracted
My mind would start to relive events
And quite intensively
By the evening I started the stretching routines that the physio had given me to do
I followed this with an assisted walk up the stairs with Mrs Dial
I sat at the top of the communal stairs getting my breath back
And for the first time
I wanted to cry
Tears welled up in my eyes
And my throat thickened
But I daren’t let it go
Everything about this recovery is measured
Crying is a cascade of unknown quantity
It may be a balance of my nerve
I had accepted my fate with silence
Or it may be tiredness
We all like to escape from ourselves
And this is one time when you cannot
And I cannot for some time yet
Most of all…I want a good nights sleep
Because at the moment
Each night feels like a week

Anyway
Onwards and Upwards
Heres some holiday snaps
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