A Hot Day in the Field

Tuesday was very hot - but Jean and I got out and had a good morning on the doors, doing return visits.  We had a couple of good talks.  I also found out, via a neighbour, that one of my long standing calls has moved!  The pretty Polish neighbour who told us accepted a magazine from us. And I hope we will be able to call back. 

And it was so hot yesterday that it was pretty much approaching Saudi summer proportions - with that tinny smell of heat that took me back to my expat years.

I spent a lot of time this week trying to chase up the results of my biopsy and blood test. Very very frustrating.  But I do have a couple of hospital appointments coming up so I might manage to find out more from there.   They can find no trace of my having had a blood test for coelic disease - yet I can remember going in with the form, along with the one for my routine arthritis test.

And the other night I either dreamt, or remembered, I have no idea which (but I was worrying away about it all) that when I had the tests the nurse said "I'll put it all on the one form".  If that is a memory, not an anxiety dream, that may explain things as the results will have gone straight to my Arthritis Doc at the Hospital, probably leaving no record of the test for Coeliac disease.

I can find out at the end of the month when I see him.  Its not that I think I have it, but given that the possibility has been raised, I need to know. Something is up with me, beyond the usual.

A lot of time in old age is spent having tests, visiting doctors, visiting hospitals, collecting medicines, trying to keep track of everything - elderly brain cells at full stretch (both of them).

We shopped for ourselves and Jackie yesterday, and Jackie and I had a gloom together about it all.

Apart from shopping, and studying, I spent yesterday making veggie curries - trying to get myself back on track eating-wise - after lapsing while away.   And I watched a shameful amount of TV, including the first episode of a compelling new series called "The Widower". It is based on a true story, and reminded me how careful you have to be about who you marry. You place such trust in them.

Here are a few lines about old age by Henry Taylor:

I see that age will make my hands a sieve

But for a moment the shifting world suspends

its flight and leans towards the sun once more,

as if to interrupt its mindless plunge

through works and days that will not come again

I hold myself immobile in bright air

sustained in time astride the flying change.

Henry Taylor

The Flying Change

I couldn't have understood that when I was young.  But I think I can understand it now.  And, on a literal unpoetic note, old age/arthritis has made my hands a sieve. I am always dropping things.

And I love the beauty and the glory of the world more and more, and take the time to appreciate simply being here, watching the wonderful clouds move across the wonderful sky, and to thank the Creator of it all.