I’ve been off work for the last two weeks. It was holiday but for various reasons we didn’t go away. Just as well as DTS was ill…however, I haven’t done any of things I meant to do, except help DTF with her Uni work. I have, however, been discovering lots of new things.
Thursday night, I attended a really fab Book Swap event at the Firestation Arts Centre in Windsor. Scott Pack, (Friday Project, columnist, ex-Waterstones, and Me and My Big Mouth blogger) had the idea and organised the whole thing. He jointly hosted with ‘Gods Behaving Badly’ author Marie Phillips, and had arranged for authors to come and talk:
Robert McCrum, former editor-in-chief at Faber & Faber and literary editor for the Observer. He wrote My Year Off, about life after a stroke, sounds dismal but is compelling reading.
Jessica Ruston who has just published her debut novel, Luxury . She is also author of Heroines: The Bold, the Bad and the Beautiful about some of the greatest women in history.
It was unlike any book/literary event I have ever been too – and I've been to/organised hundreds. The ‘stage’ was set like a living room, with sofa, cushions, chairs, lamps, rugs – even tea and coffee (authors only) and cake. These were made by Scott’s lovely wife (congratulations) Rhian – everyone had some. I opted for one of my favourites – marcaroons – delicious! She also makes beautiful ceramics - check out her website. There was great conversation, book swapping, questions, all very relaxed and informal. The questions were meant to be of a non-book variety, and some of the best included cat worming, worst experience at Infant School, and one about a rat in a loo. All very surreal but fun.
Half way to the event, I realised my chosen book was maybe not going to be the easiest swap. Not because it isn’t worth reading, but it rather falls in the ‘misery memoir’ category - I had decided on Wasted by Mark Johnson. This was a reading group offering and as the point of the group (for me) was to read something I would never choose for myself - this was a recent choice. (See review to come). My fears were realised as several people screwed their noses up at it. My explanation that it had the best and most brilliant description of the high taking certain drugs raised some interest - and some eye-brows. I finally did swap it for Kim by Rudyard Kipling which I realised I have never read but really want to. I discovered that someone had brought an even more difficult swap than mine - a book about child abuse in the Pitcairn Islands. Those of you familiar with the Mutiny on the Bounty story, will know this is where the mutineers made their home.
It was so much fun at the end talking to new people. I was staggered at how far some had travelled. (Hi to Stuart and Andrea from East London!) The event even got a review in the Independent. Roll on September’s swap!
The joy of trolling around the internet, is finding new things and I have discovered a new band - Mumford and Sons. I have not as yet found an album to purchase, but I have listened to some of their songs on line and I like.
I'm curious about them and I would even go so far a to buy tickets to see them live - if I can find them at a venue I can get to that does not require logistcal planning of military campaign proportions! I tried to get tickets to see them at the End of the Road Festival in Dorset, (close to Salisbury and Blandford where I could stay with family), but sadly they're sold out! Seeing bands at this stage in their careers mean I can actually afford the ticket price. Given the costs of travel and refreshments on top, I rarely go to gigs anymore. I'm not mean - just poor!
I have reviews to write, so I'm away - in the meantime, enjoy the books and music - or not.
Home again....waiting
Well, DTS came home from hospital yesterday evening. We are none the wiser as to whats wrong, and guess what? NO SCAN. Why am I not surprised?
I tried to argue the point that this is precisely what happened last time, but to no avail. She'll be treated as an out-patient; she'll get two appointments in the post - one for an ultra-sound scan, the other to see the doctor for the results. Hilariously, if the appointment for the doctor pre-dates the scan, then she'll have to phone to re-arrange for one week after the date of the scan.
Give me strength. Clearly it is beyond their abilities to synchronise the two. Meanwhile she takes the painkillers, lies in discomfort and pain, and waits. I wish I could afford to go private! I know they have a mobile ultra-sound scan as they used it on a woman nearby to check her bladder. It wasn't urgent, it wasn't an emergency; they were fitting a catheter anyway. How do I know? All the conversations were conducted at full volume - and she wasn't hard of hearing as I spoke to her several times. She was, however, clearly embarrassed.
What has happened to all the really professional nurses? The ones who may not have been all pally and friendly, but worked effectively and efficiently, and made you feel like you were in trustworthy hands?
*sigh*
Randomly picked up Tom Holt's novel, Valhalla. Had me smiling. Will let you know what I think when I finish.
Am off to watch a film or two - or catch up on Trueblood. Depends on my mood when I finally settle down on the sofa.
I tried to argue the point that this is precisely what happened last time, but to no avail. She'll be treated as an out-patient; she'll get two appointments in the post - one for an ultra-sound scan, the other to see the doctor for the results. Hilariously, if the appointment for the doctor pre-dates the scan, then she'll have to phone to re-arrange for one week after the date of the scan.
Give me strength. Clearly it is beyond their abilities to synchronise the two. Meanwhile she takes the painkillers, lies in discomfort and pain, and waits. I wish I could afford to go private! I know they have a mobile ultra-sound scan as they used it on a woman nearby to check her bladder. It wasn't urgent, it wasn't an emergency; they were fitting a catheter anyway. How do I know? All the conversations were conducted at full volume - and she wasn't hard of hearing as I spoke to her several times. She was, however, clearly embarrassed.
What has happened to all the really professional nurses? The ones who may not have been all pally and friendly, but worked effectively and efficiently, and made you feel like you were in trustworthy hands?
*sigh*
Randomly picked up Tom Holt's novel, Valhalla. Had me smiling. Will let you know what I think when I finish.
Am off to watch a film or two - or catch up on Trueblood. Depends on my mood when I finally settle down on the sofa.
And while we wait
Ok - so we're still waiting for a scan and Daughter the Second has been sick again overnight. The duty doctor came round this morning, says he wants more blood tests and by the way, there are no scans at the weekend.
What? But we were told....
And depending on the blood test results, DTS might have an endoscopy. They don't explain fully what this is, but an elderly patient next to her (a fabulously feisty woman) is a retired nurse, so she explains and DTS mildly freaks. At the moment, we don't know when she'll get the blood test results - so here we are....admitted Thursday afternoon, potentially get scan done Monday, but maybe an endoscopy....sometime?
I retreat to my books.
My reading group have Goodnight Mr Tom by Michelle Magorian, and The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom, to choose from. If I can, I shall read both. One for the third time (Mr Tom) and one for the first (Five People). What I'm enjoying about the group is the fact that I read books I just wouldn't ever choose for myself, and my reading is very wide and varied anyway. This includes biographies, Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet, and Wasted by Mark Johnson. The biographies I read tend to be historical, so these are very unusual, but eye-opening, informative and they certainly pulled me up sharp a few times.
I was looking forward to reading Ocean Sea by Alessandro Baricco. A friend and colleague loves this book and it was her choice but sadly I just couldn't get on with it. Like the book and its author, my friend is Italian, and of course she read it in the original. I found the language and phraseology awkward, jarring and ultimately irritating as it stopped the flow. After mulling it over, I put that down to the translation.
It lead me to think of the problems of translating books, and how much the success of a book must depend upon how well it is translated. Harry Potter has been a phenomenal worldwide success, probably in more languages than I knew existed. I have read Stieg Larsson's Girl With a Dragon Tattoo, and two novels translated from German . First Bernhard Schlink's The Reader, and because I was so engaged by that book, second was Homecoming. Now I'm going to try another of his, Flights of Love, a collection of stories, and will certainly be finishing the Larsson trilogy as they're published.
Would I be doing this if the English translation had been as awkward as the Baricco? The resounding answer is NO! I apply my three chapter rule as I have so many books to read and not a long enough lifetime to read them all. I wonder how many wonderful books we miss out on because of the translation?
No translation problems with one books I've read recently - a teen novel by Ross Kemp, but thats another blog entry all on its own.
What? But we were told....
And depending on the blood test results, DTS might have an endoscopy. They don't explain fully what this is, but an elderly patient next to her (a fabulously feisty woman) is a retired nurse, so she explains and DTS mildly freaks. At the moment, we don't know when she'll get the blood test results - so here we are....admitted Thursday afternoon, potentially get scan done Monday, but maybe an endoscopy....sometime?
I retreat to my books.
My reading group have Goodnight Mr Tom by Michelle Magorian, and The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom, to choose from. If I can, I shall read both. One for the third time (Mr Tom) and one for the first (Five People). What I'm enjoying about the group is the fact that I read books I just wouldn't ever choose for myself, and my reading is very wide and varied anyway. This includes biographies, Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet, and Wasted by Mark Johnson. The biographies I read tend to be historical, so these are very unusual, but eye-opening, informative and they certainly pulled me up sharp a few times.
I was looking forward to reading Ocean Sea by Alessandro Baricco. A friend and colleague loves this book and it was her choice but sadly I just couldn't get on with it. Like the book and its author, my friend is Italian, and of course she read it in the original. I found the language and phraseology awkward, jarring and ultimately irritating as it stopped the flow. After mulling it over, I put that down to the translation.
It lead me to think of the problems of translating books, and how much the success of a book must depend upon how well it is translated. Harry Potter has been a phenomenal worldwide success, probably in more languages than I knew existed. I have read Stieg Larsson's Girl With a Dragon Tattoo, and two novels translated from German . First Bernhard Schlink's The Reader, and because I was so engaged by that book, second was Homecoming. Now I'm going to try another of his, Flights of Love, a collection of stories, and will certainly be finishing the Larsson trilogy as they're published.
Would I be doing this if the English translation had been as awkward as the Baricco? The resounding answer is NO! I apply my three chapter rule as I have so many books to read and not a long enough lifetime to read them all. I wonder how many wonderful books we miss out on because of the translation?
No translation problems with one books I've read recently - a teen novel by Ross Kemp, but thats another blog entry all on its own.
Health matters....
Daughter the Second is in hospital - suspected appendix problems - maybe....we've been here before, when she was sent home without a diagnosis, and its hard to argue as 'whatever it was' had 'gone'.
Now, again, she's in pain, being sick, unable even to keep water down, on a drip to keep her hydrated, taking pills to help with the pain, and waiting for scan. And waiting. And waiting.
Now I know there are people out there who have much more serious problems, fatal illnesses, and the like, but surely taking a scan when the pain is at its worst would make sense.
Or it it just me?
It would also help if I could understand what some of the nurses are saying to me. Last night I understood about 75% of what one nurse said to my daughter and I. Today, I understood 50% at most of what a nurse was saying to an elderly patient next to us. Luckily I'm smart enough to be able to fill in most of the blanks and guess the rest, but then I'm not ill, in pain, elderly, or hard of hearing. What if I was? What might I agree to? Or not? My thoughts avoided going into the potentially damaging or fatal results - I just warned my girl to be sure she understood exactly what was being said or asked of her.
She really likes the doctor though - thanks heavens for small mercies.
In the meantime, Daughter the First is battling on with her mountain of studies, getting stressed at people, and worried about finishing or failing, or whatever else gets into your head at times like these. Of course, I've started dreaming of essays and presentations, and waking up in a panic about missed deadlines. I keep this to myself as she'd start stressing about that too.
Worry? I'm getting greyer by the minute!
I have cheered myself up with some sunny photos of Garter Day at Windsor Castle. Happy, happy!
Now, again, she's in pain, being sick, unable even to keep water down, on a drip to keep her hydrated, taking pills to help with the pain, and waiting for scan. And waiting. And waiting.
Now I know there are people out there who have much more serious problems, fatal illnesses, and the like, but surely taking a scan when the pain is at its worst would make sense.
Or it it just me?
It would also help if I could understand what some of the nurses are saying to me. Last night I understood about 75% of what one nurse said to my daughter and I. Today, I understood 50% at most of what a nurse was saying to an elderly patient next to us. Luckily I'm smart enough to be able to fill in most of the blanks and guess the rest, but then I'm not ill, in pain, elderly, or hard of hearing. What if I was? What might I agree to? Or not? My thoughts avoided going into the potentially damaging or fatal results - I just warned my girl to be sure she understood exactly what was being said or asked of her.
She really likes the doctor though - thanks heavens for small mercies.
In the meantime, Daughter the First is battling on with her mountain of studies, getting stressed at people, and worried about finishing or failing, or whatever else gets into your head at times like these. Of course, I've started dreaming of essays and presentations, and waking up in a panic about missed deadlines. I keep this to myself as she'd start stressing about that too.
Worry? I'm getting greyer by the minute!
I have cheered myself up with some sunny photos of Garter Day at Windsor Castle. Happy, happy!
Starting From Scratch!
After a conversation with an Olympic standard blogger, I was feeling very guilty as I hadn't touched my old blog in a while, and when I say 'a while', even I was shocked to find it had been nearly six months. Sadly, logging in was an even bigger shock - my account didn't exist. I emailed the site to try and resurrect it, but a resounding, crashing silence was all I received. Several emails and no help later, I've given up and am starting again.
I thought I'd feel annoyed or irritated, but strangely I'm feeling quite upbeat about it. Maybe its the thought of doing things differently - starting with a clean, blank page, so to speak.
And maybe I'll not leave this untouched for six months.......
I thought I'd feel annoyed or irritated, but strangely I'm feeling quite upbeat about it. Maybe its the thought of doing things differently - starting with a clean, blank page, so to speak.
And maybe I'll not leave this untouched for six months.......
