Month: July 2015

How A &E is used in Britain:keeping beds free in the wards by letting people die in A and E

P1000207 2

When my husband was in what a doctor called “An end of life situation” they managed to keep him away from the hospital  until 17 hours before he died.And those hours,after various treatment failed,were spent in a cubicle in part of A&E.He had a very peaceful death but it was overcrowded in the tiny cubicle so that I could only just get beside him to hold his hand.

Even though he was given space in this unit he was never given an actual room which used to happen to the dying nor was he put into a Ward.As it happens the staff were marvellous.But it meant their figures would look better as the Government want them to keep the elderly out of hospital wards.

eileen

As I carried his ashes home in my shopping bag last week I wondered why he’d been put for 5 days into a Rehabilitation Unit when he clearly in this “End of life” stage.The only person who could have rehabilitated him was God and he didn’t oblige.So be wary if your elderlt=y relative is being offered a place there,They are unsuitable for people with medical problems and like the one here they have no doctor on the premises.So when my husband got worse they had to use the out of hours doctor service and then ring 999 for an ambulance.It is a GP ;ed Unit whatever that means.

They said they thought this unit was nicer than a hospital ward.Well,I would not wish to go into it and if I reach that point I’ll take  cab to Beachy Head and fly.

Within each storm

When doubts and drawbacks struggle in the mind
And certainty seems but a demon dream,
When the faith to love is what no-one can find
For even when asleep, the mind still schemes

When darkness and defeat seem close at hand
And lights dim even as we pray for peace
when wrecks and ruins rile the native sands
When in this life we feel we've lost our place...

Then at the saddest depth we see the light
Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned.
The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right
And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born

Within each storm there is a calm still eye
From there we see the fiercest clouds blown by

Vulva is a very rude word

I’m told vulva is a very rude word

Yet onto one we all emerge.

Vagina is kosher.

Vulva is grosser.

So keep mum unless you’re disturbed.

I suppose dick is a regular word

As opposed to a regular verb.

We did verbs in Greek

But I cannot speak

In case any organ gets stirred.

 While you still have it, do use

If anyone ignites your fuse

.For atrophy comes

And prunes are your plums.

If you live and you long you can’t lose

I’ll read some soft porn ere I go

To the hospital where I will show

I am not totally dry

I have ten tears in my eye.

If I bleed then I’m human,hello!

At random

A friend told me that about 3 weeks after my husband died I would get men coming to the door asking if I wanted to sleep with them.So far I’ve only had

1.A pizza deliverer who rang the wrong bell

2.A Thames water engineer to give me a new head for the shower and to quizz me on my use of water.

3.An Amazon delivery of a Japanese maple tree.

4 A letter telling me that my husband owes them one week of his pension  since he died at 2.30 pm on the day it was paid.Well,they can go to Hell… maybe they’ll get it there!

5.A woman trying to convert me to be a Mormon.I said I was already a Catholic but they don’t mind.So then I said I am an agnostic so she asked me how to spell it.Then I passed out and when I came round a man was staring at me.He was a paramedic from down the road.

6.A man collecting money for lepers… not very convincing.

Anyway,why would  I want to make love with a complete stranger when I can do it with someone I adore.,… namely,myself!It’s less dangerous too   and less immoral as you are not leadinf a man into sin are you? Or a woman either.Can you lead yourself into sin,I wonder,Ask a Jesuit.. they usually know all the answers.I know men can’t spill their seeds according to the Bible  but can we women lay our eggs at random?

Death and loss and grief

When death and loss and grief fill up my heart
And behind an icy wall I am entrapped
Where should my work of holy healing start
Where is the hidden place where loss is mapped?
As on the earth I walk amongst the trees
And on the grass I lay my sleeping head
I make my friends from stinging wasps and bees
Who comfort me on this my own deathbed.
Yet do not sun and moon still shine as bright?
Do not men and women tender lie.
Does not this small glowworm give me light?
Do not courting tom cats saunter by?
With wider vision spreading from my eyes
I see more clearly where my comfort lies

What we used to eat and other rum memories

I have noticed that some popular dishes of my childhood are no longer eaten much

1.Scotch eggs …….  boiled eggs coated in sausage meat and deep fried

2.Anything deep fried. except cow’s eyes

3.Steamed jam roly poly pudding

4.Most cooked puddings and pies.Apple pie was the most common

5 Carnation milk.

6.Lentil soup made using a ham bone.Jewish folk who never knew…God is ok with that!

7. Heinz vegetable soup

8 Steak and kidney puddings.

9 Liver and other offal.

10 Fairy cakes.

11.Potatoes coated in batter then deep fried.

12.Sago pudding.

1I3 Strong brown tea with 6 spoons of sugar per mug

14. Indian brandy.

15 Rum in tea before a big event.

16 Going to Mass 4 times on Snday  when you couldn’t afford breakfast

17 Tinned fruit with jelly from a packet.

18 Custard powder.

19 Jam or sugar sandwiches.

20 Banana or tomato sandwiches

21 Tobacco chewed and spat out.

22 Cigar sandwiches

Sunday jokes

Photo0705

I was going to take my husband a roast dinner today ,but I forgot to put his dentures in the coffin.. so I shall have to have them cremated.There goes another £758 and I am damned if I have to pay for another Service.

The doctor said I need to let my feelings out so I am going to Epping Forest in the hope they will get lost and I can come home without them.

They say it’s natural to grieve.It’s also natural to eat dogs in China,And it’s natural for so called civilised countries to torture suspects

When I cry men cross the road to offer me their handkerchiefs.So far I’ve got 50.Isn’t it great not to have to buy tissues any more?

To save money I am burying my credit card under a tree with  my husband’s ashes.Then he will know I being  thrifty just like he always told me, even though it’s 30 years too late.

The dermatologist told me,you will smell human flesh burning.I wish I’d told him I am a vegetarian but my face was numb from the 21  injections they gave me.Maybe we should pay surgeons more more or let them eat cake.

I invited our GP to the funeral but he said  for that to happen  we’d have to hold it in the surgery

Funerals are so expensive I’ve decided to bury myself at sea.

It’s called love

I run my fingers tentatively

down your cheek,

asking you a question

with my eyes.

looking at each other,

you touch me too.

This is my skin

my boundary.

Yours is thicker,

like rubber.

I run my fingers down your chin.

what is this little bone?

I like it.

I like your skin

I like your bones.

I like you.

you please me.

you are tasty.

I like your taste,

your skin,your eyelids.

I like your eye here,

and your other eye too.

Nice one!

I like this hair on your head.

May I touch your hair?

do you like hair?

hair makes me laugh.

I have a fondness for laughing.

I love to laugh.

I enjoy laughter

I love your laughter.

If not, smiling is good also.

Or a gleam in the eyes,

showing the inside smile,

the smiling heart.

I like your inside,

Outside

and possibly

your backside.

your upside and downside.

your side sides.

I snuggle you all around with soft wool.

I knit you into my scarf.

I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!

How unusual

How flexible.

How charming.

How alarming

How creative

How interesting.

What an idea!

what a notion

but you are too big for me to knit

So I’ll just touch your hand

with my fingers.

and you touch my hand

with your fingers.

What good hands we have

with such fingers.

fingers are for touch.

fingers are keen to touch.

I like touch.

what would we do

without fingers?

I like your skin.

skin is good

We love skin

We love.

We.

I want skin to be ours

and yours

is mine

and mine

is yours

where is the edge of the world?

skin has no end

it’s infinity

au naturel.

what order!

what design!

What wonder.

what awe.

where is the world’s skin?

tenderly we touch the world

as the world embraces us.

It’s called love.

Love

Rubber face

  • My husband has a rubber face,

    He’s from a subset of the human race.

    Some men have faces fixed and set;

    My husband’s face is not like that.

    He imitates our politicians,

    Just like Rory Bremner can.

    Though he has no wig or hair piece,

    He can look like anyone.

    Some nights I waken for I am laughing

    While I am deep and sound asleep.

    I am dreaming of his mobile features,

    Contorted to a different shape.

    He is skilled at telling jokes.

    And he loves a good cartoon.

    If I am feeling nasty blueness

    he can get me up again.

    He has a rather noble visage.

    He gets attention he abhors.

    In the bar on King’s Cross Station—

    I was asked was he a Lord!

    He’s a Lord of Fun and Humour.

    He’s a Lord at Listening Well.

    He’s unique, but so are you,

    And all creatures that on earth do dwell

Power or love

One’s motivation may be  either love or power.

In truth, it’s there and  plain for all to see.

They  first  admire and plead a lengthy hour

About how sweet one’s offerings would be.

When   persuaded that they are open and  sincere

One sends them poems like the  poems they praised.

Yet their minds  are altered ,and in fear

They shows repulsion where they fondly gazed.

 

To double bind another human soul

To knot    barbed  wire around their  only mind

This action seems not from a human whole

But from a being split and  thence unkind

 

Believe not those who are too quick to praise

Conceal yourself from  charmers and their gaze

Hide your love

What was so wrong about asking
About your absence from this world
And trying to grab you back
holding onto your coat tail
Eternity.s long enough already
We don’t need your vapour trails.
Was it a wicked thing to do
As you floated so far away
To reach out to touch you once more
I admit I never knew you kept score.
When I beat you at chess so long ago
Were you already packing bags
to throw out the door?
I knew it was the real thing
But some men never do.
You have your expectations
And your tests and rules
But we never learned those
In our higher math schools.
We learned rigour and icy vision
We learned definition and precision.
But what use are they in loving
I didn’t know how to steer with no maps
You were off anyhow.
The orchestra stoped playing
When they saw the gap.
You can’t fly forever
But I do be leaving you.
In the circumstances
What else does a woman like me do.
You can smile and squeeze your eyes tight
Suck in those cheeks and hide your love.
What’s coming after you’s an eagle or a crow
Not a dove…it’s black I know
When you toss it all away then
Seems like it’s long past time
and emotion to call it a day.
Come again…..you must be crazy
Love is clear to me like the face of a new born daisy

Evading payment? Do I look like a thief?

1427319281397.5Yesterday I needed to go to collect a letter which had to be signed for.This means taking a bus into town and then walking a short way.However it was so hot that I decided to get some tea in a cafe I often visit.It’s possibly the only one where they have waiters and waitresses.

I drank my tea.It had come as a mug with a tea bag in boiling water.The very first time I was served tea like this was in the middle of London many years ago.I was quite taken aback and asked for coffee instead.Now I am used to it… except for, where do you put the tea bag? I also had a small  cake.While I was eating I saw a waiter nearby so I asked if I could pay him.Standing in a queue is painful for me.

P1000261

When I left the cafe and began to walk up the road I heard a loud cry.I saw a waitress running after me…. calling out for payment.A little black man passing burst out laughing.He said,It’s so funny to think someone like you would cheat.I felt flattered that my ethical code was displayed on  my face until he pointed to my cane and said,You would be silly to steal when you can hardly walk.

On the whole I prefer being thought of as a thief than as a cripple!But mostly I love being treated as a human being.

P1000253

A different cafe which also sells musical instruments.

We now have a large number of coffee shops.I think Muslims don’t drink alcohol and that may be one reason for it.But generally all of us Brits will pay a fortune for coffee because it’s a good way to meet friends…. most people no longer entertain at home.I think perhaps. because many mothers work they can’t spend  hours in the kitchen.Ironically we used to do it in  the 70’s and 80’s  when we didn’t have dishwashers and freezers and other helpful devices.

7300821_f260I prefer to meet in the cafe in the park as it is so quiet compared to the town centre and  usually there are enough people there to give me food for thought as well.Or to take photos for my digital art.The one below is a photo of my lower legs.

P1000262 1

Emile and the hospital :a story about a cat

Photo1400
  • When the aged,wrinkled yet lively old man Stan and his immodestly shy, wildly pretty,blue eyed and brilliant wife Mary arrived at their local “hospital” in an ambulance Stan was carried into the Resuscitation Room and was lying down on a trolley…… which is like a bed with wheels.How did I get here? he asked God, who was on a shelf,impetuously.None of the staff answered.http://youtu.be/EIjTBC9pAxEA nurse came in and gave him some oxygen but no-one washed his face and hands…the nurse said they were overworked that day with all the usual drunken English folk falling off buses or off pavements or arguing and hitting each other with beer bottles,
    After another four hours a doctor came and looked at the weary old fellow.
    I think I’ll order a CAT scan for your head. he muttered nervously,as if talking to a spirit.
    Oh,My cat,Emile, is not here,Stan informed him.
    Shall I get my mistress to fetch him?
    You have a mistress as well as a wife,he asked curiously.
    Yes I do,You should get one,Stan said.
    They are useful when the wife is at work.And it’s a very honourable position for a widow who is bored.
    I think that’s immoral,when your wife is earning all your crusts,said the doctor cruelly in a very sarcastic tone..his eyes shining with demonic glee.
    I don’t mind,said Mary cheerfully.After all,it gives him exercise and stimulation.And I can do my research peacefully.I have always thought the French had the right idea about love
    You can say that again,said Stan!
    The French had the right idea about love!
    How about Revolution?
    I don’t think we could handle a Revolution,said the doctor in a kindly voice,his mouth drooping slightly with fatigue.After Stan had his CAT scan they had to wait patiently for two hours for the result….the scan had to be emailed to a Consultant elsewhere,that is… at home by the TV
    The CAT scan area was shut except for emergencies and had an eerie emptiness which contrasted oddly with the crowded noisy Casualty Department.Two men od different colours were arguing loudly in the Scan area.
    Mary knocked on the door and told them off,much to the delight of the porter.
    Later Mary phoned Anne,her neighbour and begged her to bring Emile her cat to the hospital in a large zipped bag… with a breathing space.
    Anne arrived after only ten minutes or so.. loking colourful
    Emile put his head out of the unzipped top and said,
    What a strange smell this room has.. is it TCP?
    Stan was very glad to see Emile. Anne went out and got Mary a spinach and mouse sandwich and some tea.She helped Mary to keep Stan comfortable with glasses of water,bottles to pee into,tissues to mop up the blood from his hands and face…no doubt this is well known to many of you.Several doctors too many came in…separately.One told them Stan had fractured the bone under his right eye.
    Don’t blow your nose,Stan.Your eye might come out…Wow,they don’t soften the blow,do they said Anne,her face pink with the over heated air of the
    A and E ward
    How far out would it come? enquired Mary scientifically
    her pointed face creased with worry.But none of the staff answered
    Mary advised Stan gently,
    Just blot the end of your nose,honey,if it runs.You’ll be alright with me here.
    Though his eye looked very peculiarAnother doctor came in after six hours and informed old Stan he had confusions in his brain.
    See a psychiatrist,Stan told him rudely.Why tell me?
    Emile hid his head inside the bag.I am going to ring a neurosurgeon,don’t go home till I get back,he ordered Mary bossily
    Another doctor told them Stan should see an opthalmologist….
    Mary began to feel sick…and the first doctor never came back.
    Perhaps he’s fallen into a black hole,said Anne foolishly as she reapplied her orange lipstick and powdered her ample bosom and cleavage.
    Stan mewed musically to tease Emile.Emile purred as loud as possible…he enjoyed purring very much.
    At midnight the staff nurse advised the women to go home as Mary would have to be admitted to the Cardiac Unit if she stayed much longer….. her face was as white as a goat’s belly…is that wight?
    They went off in a minicab but left Emile under the trolley on a small shelf from where he chatted to Stan and operated a recording device… to spy on the staff
    Stan grew more and more tired,lying all alone…pity they don’t have a lying in nurse nowadays!
    Why,I feel as if I am in prison, he told Emile…I want to go home and go to my own bed…
    Me too,said Emile…I have a new girlfriend called Jenny,he went on.
    I look forward to meeting her, said Stan..and he fell into a dream where he was surrounded by lovely female nurses in pale pink uniforms all smiling at him……..if only it were true.
    Can you dream whilst awake?
    Yes, all life is but a dream..and I’m a butterfly.
    And I see I am in some photographs

The Always and Never Life of Sylvia Plath

7222830_f260

http://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/02/the-always-and-never-life-of-sylvia-plath/272707/

http://www.psychological-observations.com/key-concepts/ambivalence

I suppose she loved him for always

until he unpeeled his banana for another woman

Then she never loved him at all.

Perhaps fifty shades of beige might have been better

but then again

Some folk will always

prefer the high wire.

Ghost

There was a ghost writing

at your desk,using your old notebooks..

Seemed to be over seeing the production

of your biography and times.

I picked up your pyjamas and smelled

the bit under your arms

it was a potent reminder

of our first encounter.

I tiptoed away leaving the  ghost alone.

Wasn’t that what you always wanted?

My jokes

1.Why did Jesus cross the road?

Because He saw a zebra crossing.

2.Can we walk on water?

Only if it’s dead!

3.Is it good to pray all day?

Give God a bit of peace.Lay off.

4.Why did Jesus like women?

Because he was politically correct.

5.Did Jesus wear pyjamas?

Not all questions have an answer

6.Why did God choose the Jews?

Because they chose Him!

7.Why did Moses not get to the Promised land?

Because he had no ordnance survey map.Buy yours now!

8.Why was Jerusalem built on a hill?

It was easier than removing the hill first.

9 Did the ancient Hebrews have public conveniences?

No,they did  it in private.

10.Why do Jewish men have to please their wives in bed?

Why does any man have to please his wife… it’s what we call strategic thinking.

11 Did Jesus like Earl Grey tea?

It was no use at Weddings.

12.What is manna?

It’s style; je ne sais qua.

Is God a foreigner?

worst-book-covers-titles-7

Hello,I’m God,Father.
Oh,you’re with the Mafia,then
I am with everyone
That’s noble.Any sins
I made a grave error.
You don’t have to worry.We all do it.
But I’m God!
If you say so.
I made a man from earth.Then I made a woman.
That’s very wise under the Equal Opportunites Legislation
Then they bred.
Well,surely no one blames you?
I do.
Are you unwell?Shall I call an ambulance?
What for?
To take you to the Asylum.
So you think I’m an asylum seeker?
Well,you don’t look British!
It’s enough to drive me mad.
You are mad.
How come?
You think you are God
I am God.
Do you have any identity card?
That’s rich!who’d give me one?The Pope?
Well,they say,see Rome and die.
I never die.I’m immortal
Well,I absolve you and your penance is to forget yourself
Wham,shudder,bang,bump
Everything is on fire
Lord have mercy.
I’m thinking about it.
Be English!
English… what a joke!I am black.
So am I!
Black And British.. or Black and Foreign
Is God a Foreigner?
Definitely!

Is this the world we want to leave our children?

This is worth pondering over

christopherjamesstone's avatarFierce Writing

scan0002-001I’ve just spent the day with my beautiful granddaughter Bella. “Bella” means “beautiful” in Italian.

I had a dream about her a few weeks ago. In the dream I was coming down the stairs in a very crowded place.

Bella was at the bottom of the stairs, a long way away, but when she spotted me, despite the crowds and the noise, she recognised me immediately and laughed and clapped her hands.

It seems like the greatest of privileges to me to have a relationship of trust with a child.

The greatest privilege, and the greatest responsibility too. It is the responsibility to help create a better world. I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels this way.

The question has to be, is the world we are making good for all children, or only good for our own?

I remember seeing Tony Blair in a Newsnight interview a…

View original post 249 more words

See life in proportion or from another perspective

7225947_f260When we  hurt,sometimes it’s hard to judge how bad the pain is.Maybe a small example will illustrate this point.A few days ago I was wearing some sandals which began to rub on my big toe.I ignored it for a while and carried on as usual.After a few hours I removed my sandals.When I looked at my toe it looked really horrible,red and painful.As I focussed more and more on the painful part the pain rose so that I could hardly bear it.

However when I stepped back mentally and put my attention on my whole body the pain seemed to diminish.And I could see it was not dangerous.

The lesson is,the more intensely we focus on anything,the more prominent in our minds and feelings it becomes.When we relax and see a wider picture then we get a better sense of proportion.Or if you are an artist you migt prefer,seeing things in perspective.The place from which you see something and the narrow or wide focus you use affects what you perceive.

This issue is one which is related to people having arguments because we forget when we are emotional that others are not standing where we are.And so they don’t see what we see.And furthermore,there is no correct way to see.Maybe there are inappropriate ways… better ways,worse ways?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Photo by Mike Flemming,Copyright.

Meeting

dangerous-wooden-bridge-if-broken-foot-31740048

Stepping onto that fragile bridge

Which swayed in the breeze,
Stepping onto that fragile bridge
Was a difficult moment
Though I could see you far away.
As we traveled,sometimes we walked,
Sometimes we walked too fast,
Or without paying due attention
To the winds that blew across the water.
Sometimes I felt afraid I would fall
As the bridge swayed too much over
The dark sea.Or you might fall or turn back.
Sometimes we stopped walking and stood waiting
As if some portent would appear
To tell us what to do.
Still, we continued, with trust growing
After each difficulty…
All at once, you were near me,
And I recognised your face..
That light in your eyes
And your hands holding the ropes..
So we stood there,over the churning waters,
And all I wanted to do was to smile.
I wanted to smile.

Red maple tree

I lie back in the weather-proofed green chair
To gaze up at the flowering maple tree.
Now, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air
I embrace with joy the beauty I now see.

Old celandine show brightly by my feet
Neglected currant bushes straggle round the path
There is no birdsong yet a silence sweet
Soothes my heart and quietens my wrath.

For my heart’s sore and anguished is my mind
Yet in this little wood I feel deep calm.
My eyes are shadowed and my face is lined.
May this green spring bring me a gentle balm.

For even in depression and deep grief,
The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf

Time of richness

Tomatoes ripen on the stem;
Apples hang down low.
Summer riches now and then.
From seeds that once I sowed.

Plant your seeds with care and grace.
Nurture them with love.
Put them in where you have space,
As rain falls from above.

Slowly, and in their own right time,
They will manifest
The form with which they were endowed.
Richness comes at last.

Time for sowing,time for birth
Time for love of life.
Time to scatter seeds abroad.
Time to end our strife.