If my mind is stolen,
and I acquire a Union Jack tattoo, you will know the experiment was a failure.
If my mind is stolen,
and I acquire a Union Jack tattoo, you will know the experiment was a failure.
You can say, ‘Molly, you are 95, your mum is dead, you have dementia, you live in a care home, sit down.’
Had I drowned, the story would have ended.
He has a glass that is so half-full that the Kool-Aid is spilling over the rim.
For passing the time, as winter approaches.
I visited my patient yesterday. He is from Alloa. In the Lowlands of Scotland. A tall, Former miner Now ageing gracefully. His grandson was there And his red-headed great-grand daughter. She sat colouring as I sounded The old man’s chest. ‘Papa, I’ll pop to the chemist.’ Said the grandson. He refers to himself in theContinue reading “Papa”
It is Grundig TV with whiteouts and loops over and over
Where have all the bibles gone? It used to be a thing I saw When staying at Hotels and hostels & similar types of places. In every Bedside drawer There would be a brown or blue Gideon Bible. ‘Look,’ I said to my daughter, ‘In your bedside drawer!’ ‘It’s empty,’ she replied. They seem toContinue reading “Where have all the bibles gone? (Can be sung to the melody of ‘Where have all the flowers gone? By Peter, Paul and Mary.)”
I know the people who can’t ‘get to see the doctor’ presume they are sitting around playing Wordle; this is not the case.
I keep thinking Land Rovers.
I think Dutchy Organics.
Purveyors of fine foods to HRH.
It’s a jumble.
Millennials have a super-sense that goes beyond the establishment’s reach.
If you are reading this and still eat animal-based foods on most days of the week you are contributing to the problem.
Stop moaning about the Norwegians or the Norway Fisheries folk and reduce your carbon footprint.
No one in healthcare works harder than GPs.
The butterfly beats its wings, and we are all prisoners of time.
And yet, it is very hot.
Well, not as hot as in Yorkshire.
And the irony?
(Can you hear the crickets? The Bouzouki?)
Michael was a true rambler, born in Russia he migrated to Glasgow then fought in Egypt and Palestine in the First World War then back to Glasgow and then off to Australia via Ceylon.
Is the recession upon us? What I think about my tortoise, what do they think about me?
There may be women in the Tory party, it is however a sexist juggernaut.
He had and has inherited my dad’s bibliophilia;
Climate change and the Anthropocene are their lingua franca. Heck, Ukraine then Roe v Wave last week. They see further than me, and that is great, that makes it worthwhile.
Family-doctor-dietician and still losing weight; you must be failing the person, not meeting their needs, not creating innovative or adequately tasty food, not supporting mealtimes, not doing your job.
Although if you are my brother,
Ancient Greek scholar (he’s a Greek scholar, not ancient).
This would not be surprising,
It was a few weeks ago. I was logged-on to a meeting. Locked, stock to the computer screen, my face flickering at 60Hz, my fingers dancing over the keyboard, and, me, for the most pretending to eye-contact, whilst reading the Guardian. During these times I exist in a split reality. My focus switching between theContinue reading “The Sailor from Dinnington”
What makes a GP special is their knowledge of a patient, their insight over months, years, even decades into a person’s life. The bond that continues after the acute illness has passed, the person recovered, perhaps passed through school, left for college and returned, married then divorced, raised children.
We are the finite of our bodies and we are the infinite of our minds.
We are a walking anachronism.
It was a toughie. It took me an hour to unravel what was what, which medicines were which, what had been stopped, started, changed, what he could and couldn’t do, what he understood, what the family understood, the plans for further tests and follow-up.
It is more a chaotic butterfly of cause an effect, a stochastic randomness that nudges the world in a certain direction.
Some people, let’s call them extraverts tend to let everything spill-out. I am not one of those.
This blog is a form of cognitive expiation.
Freud suggested that we can’t imagine our own death.
I’ve tried and I can although it isn’t a comfortable or pleasant.
As a consequence of not scoffing sweet-salty popcorn or Sports Mixtures I have been consuming more nuts.
We don’t really move or go anywhere.
In space and time, we stand still.
I thought of the residents of my care home,
Was it disturbing their mental continence?
Would it influence me?
For me, the difference between the two belts and their equivalents in medicine can be described as transactional and transformational care.
I am famously last-minute. If you know Myers-Briggs, you could guess the last letter of my type. Despite this propensity, I almost always get things done on time. The argument to myself and those around me who wonder why I am not doing anything when I should be preparing is that I am thinking (worrying)Continue reading “Holidays”
My mum Would pass thread through the eye of a tiny needle and perform what she called invisible stitches. It was what all the ladies wanted. The middle-aged women would call-in at our house Requesting alterations to aid their spread, their girth expansion from the time in-between diets. Mum would sit at her Singer sewingContinue reading “My mum – for International Women’s Day 8 March 2022”
We fear crazy men who remain in power for too long, who climb to the top ensuring multiple mutually assured mechanisms of destruction for anyone who might threaten them.
One patient recently attempted to resuscitate her (toy) baby when the batteries ran-out.
Still recovering from IDLES my daughter tested positive for Covid.
Makes my think of my grandfather and his dilute Dettol baths or his pronunciation of Argos
Rod talks numbers, art and the imperfection of his face.
…the shape of hills, the movement of water, muscles and the eye, the mechanism of the woodpecker’s tongue, the development of the foetus, creation, innovation, perspective and momentum.
You are both more distant and more closely related to your next-door neighbour than you think.
Locked in a room, when you are 90 and if you have dementia and significant physical and cognitive impairment is horrible. It is cruel and harmful. It is what our older folk have to do, whilst we, the rest are out and about, living it up.
Death – tradition – Jewishness – family – education – self-consciousness
Rod reflects on the interface between anxiety and a long-line of Jewish ancestors.
My mind has been in a Japanese meta-reality rather than on Wong Lane
I don’t even want to talk about the masks. We were at a cinema in Bristol this evening to celebrate my birthday. We saw The Harder They Fall. No, it wasn’t the movie that made me realise how far away I am from where I could or should be, nor the paper cups we wereContinue reading “A confrontation with the awareness of my outdateness.”
At different times I feel I am closer to gaining an understanding, at others, I have never been further away.
For all they care we could go to hell, so long as they can keep going.
It’s a bit shit.
#NHS #scapegoating #primarycare @BMA #justtryingtodoourjob
That doctors and nurses aren’t working hard enough, that the poor are poor from choice, and, that good things come to those who deserve it or who were born lucky.
I popped into Tesco yesterday; there was no pasta on the shelves (no petrol in the pump either).
There are 8.8 million people living in Israel.
That is 0.11% of the world population.
Around 20 per cent of children in the UK’s 68 million are living in poverty.
Consider the involvement of Russia and China in perpetuating the Syrian crisis.
For the first two or three weeks after she came home I had to physically drag her out of her crate to let her pee or poo – she was terrified
The misdirected guided by the uninformed.
It’s a comedy,
Although I don’t remember laughing.
‘She’s probably holding something in her mouth,’ I said – since the arrival of pup, she has taken to hoarding all sorts of toys and chews in her mouth.
‘Are you some sort of Communist?’ He asked.
If their lack of safety is 10 times greater than your perception of safety, are they safe? Are you?
‘Think of it as an internship.’
‘I don’t want to be a waiter,’ he says.
‘I know, you are gaining life-skills and, well… Experience.’
He doesn’t answer.
Imagine being able to converse with a cat.
That’s what Nakata can do.
Facts can be convoluted or linear.
They can be jaggedy or zigzag.
They can be true or false.
All resonating, taking me back and creating an atmosphere.
I remember experiencing a sensation similar to that which a fly must feel as it slips down the throat of a pitcher plant. Suspicion mixed with curiosity.
Me and my dog and silence.
Silence is sometimes needed to re-charge.
And yet, Freda is gone and I never really said hello.
My teacher, R’s smile in particular, warm and proud of our academic accomplishments.
Yet, the testicle.
When I say be me, that is, have integrated all my past memories, thoughts and ideas, my behaviours, imaginings, hopes, anxieties, abilities and failings.
We lapsed into singing The Automatic’s ‘What’s that coming over the hill, Is it a Rabbi…”
I wanted to begin by discussing my recent practice FB post. I called it >very frustrating situation<. That was the best I could think at the time. What is or has been frustrating? Well, I won’t go on too much about Covid (lie). The vaccine has been rolling out over the past month. And, inContinue reading “State of frustration”
You can still hold hands if someone is wearing rubber gloves; you can still laugh or smile wearing a face mask.
A basic human right – the right to family life has been bolloxed.
The vet, Friendly young woman in dark blue scrubs Face mask and clipboard, Took me through The ins and outs of the procedure. Operation to render my dog Sterile. / My last dog Maisie Was also spayed Although I seem to have lost the memory. / Now, Stella, As she cowers, Under my desk, BesideContinue reading “Today they took my dog’s womb.”
Of the 147 initial survivors, by the time they were rescued 13 days later only 15 were still alive, the others had been murdered, cannibalised or thrown into the sea.
The joy of imagination and other worlds.
Often old men and women will seek human contact, particularly when feeling isolated – and when I reciprocate with my gloved hand (that they don’t appear to notice as being anomalously purple or blue) we are able to make contact, to connect.
I am the Lorax.
I speak for the trees
For the trees have no tongues.
IDLES shout for me.
I know that is so very much the essence of care – understanding the language of interaction. How to approach another, how to speak through gesture, to know what to say and what not.
I come from a long line of worriers, which is apposite as the subject of this blog relates to discussions with my brother about Covid. You see, he has been a mask wearer. He also has asthma like me and the combination of worrier, asthma and the time of Covid is a toxic cocktail forContinue reading “A long line of worriers and wear a facemask?”
After that last election, the one which brought the clown and his Merry Pranksters to power I deleted news and Social Media apps from my phone; it was only with the arrival of Covid that I allowed them back in.