Friday, 27 August 2021

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - XLII

Seeing my neighbour

Sitting in my swivel chair chatting to my lover, I look out of my window to see him who sits by the window on the second floor of the building across the quiet road from me and I wonder what he sees in this world from that perspective.

He might also see me as I look up though I have never waved to him in any sort of acknowledgement, then the main road that I will not have a view of except if I change my position might present a variety of vehicular traffic; cars, lorries, bicycles, and dreaded e-scooter of all colours, driven by genders only descriptive if he can see that well, along with the speed of travel regulated by changing traffic lights at the junction beyond our view.

What are their stories?

Lest I forget, his wife and I think that is her role if my eyesight serves me well, sometimes takes that seat too. I would think the vantage view is sitting by the window on the left from my viewpoint as there can’t be much to see seating on right and looking out to their left.

Maybe, just maybe they need company as they sit in limbo without friends or family, but the lifelong companionship of each other reminiscing of a life that only exists in memories fading away, a youth spent that could be stories to listen to, if we just knew each other. These notes I scribbled down on my notepad as my lover watched wondering what I was up to and this is it. Another situation in Manchester in these pandemic times.

Thursday, 26 August 2021

Bowling coffee

Standups at dawn

In the mornings we send each other video messages on WhatsApp but recently because of a pandemic control situation we do now get to have a video chat, first thing in the morning and then after work just before the networks on his side of the world start to misbehave for some unknown reason in the evenings.

Then, the videos were recorded in his office, the backdrop with medical charts and his visage a thing of undying pleasure to behold. However, depending on when I call, it is somewhere from just rising to possibly driving.

To sip and not slurp

The opportunity for a coffee to deal with the tremors of the early wake up to attend to the day could if not fully drunk leave the video conference in a shaking frenzy of possible concern. The coffee mug is hardly such that it has a handle for it is a bowl, a whole bowl for a two-handed manoeuvre from rest to lips and down again with the function of not needing another serving.

Whilst I should probably confess to thinking too much as he would at times surmise, the bowl could do ten pins in one or hit a six to the boundary. I guess that is where we got the title of bowling coffee. Having just about enough and more than the usual to give the day a start of not repeating the same ritual until the next morning. 

Wednesday, 25 August 2021

Skipping on lava

Only what I saw

Visited with the inscrutable in language so easily misunderstood, the project takes a chimeral form too nondescript to give shape to coherent thought that you are lost in a labyrinth of dark tunnels with eerie sounds masking the booming roar of a menacing minotaur.

My sobriety defeats me as I approach the caldera of a volcano ready to enter the mouth of the dragon that prances on the fires of the belly of the earth, I am scalded by its breath and starved of oxygen almost ready to swoon into the ethereal nothingness of the end.

In the abandon that ensues, not reckless in the least, we are become Pompeii and in looking back at the conflagration that has begun to surround us, we become the only friend of Lot’s salty wife.

Knowing pain is personal

Pain consumes you

Pain is a feeling that goes deep into your core that could be such a distraction from everything else keeping you in the discomfort that seeks to become the normal of your current existence.

Pain is the moment, it has no past or future, it is now, calling out to every nerve that has any element of response, you cannot be unaware of it being there, a dominating sadistic force of otherworldly provenance.

I once knew what pain was, the pain of cancer and yet in knowing that I am always reticent to associate my experience with that of anyone else, because we all feel pain so differently, it is individual and unique, it is personal for which the prescription, if it can be eased, is particular to that situation.

Pain refusing to go

I was on morphine but after two nights I could no longer tolerate it, I was overcome with emesis they had to try something else. Then, it was oxycontin which worked for a few hours and late at night, I would call the nurse for another pill because the pain was interfering with my sleep.

Before I left hospital, I was given a Fentanyl patch, which was supposed to last a week affixed to my skin, but the pain still seemed to announce itself in my consciousness and this was apart from the three other types of pain medication I was on addressing neuralgia, headaches, inflammation, and fevers.

When I told my oncologist, I was still feeling some pain, he doubled the dose of the Fentanyl patch having first thought the original dosage should have dealt with the pain. I did have a high pain threshold, but if you had fungating tumours in the sole of your foot it was just on another level. Then as the tumour dissipated and necrotised skin came off with fresh skin replacing the once blackened flesh, the pain from cancer remained for months afterwards.

What becomes of the pain afflicted?

At the full healing of my sole, the pain subsided but I had to wean myself off the patch by halving it and leaving it on for longer, a process that took another 3 months. It was a revelation of how opioid pain relief can become addictive.

Just over a week ago, on my Twitter timeline, a physician undergoing chemotherapy for aggressive cancer wrote of the pain she was feeling. I could relate, yet I could not find the form of words to offer comfort, I just knew that somewhere you needed some alleviation and hopefully without the incapacitation that you cannot function at all.

Pain can be arresting, what becomes those for whom nothing can ease their pain? It is of them that I hope beyond hope that relief comes that they might find comfort, peace, and rest. In my case, the consultant also had some confidence that we could see the end of it if I responded well to the treatment and that is how I find myself writing about it 12 years after.

Pain in my blogs

Blog - In hospital to kill the pain

Blog - Getting off the pain train

Blog - Generally responsive and dealing with pain

Blog - Stronger medicine and another course of chemo

Blog - Boldly tell your doctor everything

Blog - Off and back on the pain patch

Blog - Opinion: Where addiction and tragedy can confuse issues

Monday, 23 August 2021

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - XLI

Hermitude becomes I

Despite being fully vaccinated, I hear tales of people who have contracted the Coronavirus. It is possible they would not be hospitalised but finding out that you are CoVID-19 positive is not the kind of news you want to receive at any time.

It is strange that the last time I was out of my apartment block was 8 days ago. Not that I was in quarantine, but I was in one of my usual bouts of being a hermit. I did step out of my apartment to check my mailbox, met up with my neighbours for a drinks night and then my friend who sometimes comes into town was here a few times and on one occasion tidied up my living room and kitchen. I am always grateful for his ordering touch.

For fridge on dead freezer

Having emptied my freezer of all the defrosted food much of which I could not use that it unfortunately ended up in the bin, I logged a maintenance call with the letting agents to have someone give the freezer a look before it is decided whether it should be repaired or replaced.

Stepping out after work to the local supermarket to get some fruit and drinks, I had my mask on from home, you cannot be too careful. Most of the customers were donning face masks apart from one who was yapping away on his phone until he had to pay with the same phone, hence, terminating the call.

The theatre of fear

Opposite the supermarket is the legendary Palace Theatre, which first opened in 1891 and on my way to the shop there was a uniformed crowd outside that had disappeared after I finished shopping. Then I noticed there was a show on, The Woman Is Back, opening tonight for 4 nights. This is a sign of things coming back into a kind of normalcy, for the last show advertised, The Phantom of the Opera, to start on the 26th of March 2020 to the 30th of May 2020, never opened because of the pandemic lockdown and the theatre has been closed to audiences since then.

I also noticed that the theatre box office is not open to the public which I think means all tickets will be processed online alone with them presented as printouts or mobile phone scannable codes. Though I worry as friends have indicated on visiting theatres in London recently, CoVID-19 precautions are not that adhered to. That simply means I would be avoiding those enclosed entertainment places for a little while yet. However, we must celebrate the little changes we see around us.

RSS Mischief II - The fundamentals of fluid mechanics

Angelic babies, we were not

When we were sent to boarding school, it was presumed we were innocent, unaware, unspoilt, and undefiled. Yet, nothing to be further from the truth about the kind of knowledge we all had as adolescence and puberty had hormones raging in our bodies that the more precocious and adventurous amongst us found outlets for.

Rumours abounded of boys meeting girls, seniors finding impressionable girls to exploit in the dark classrooms late at night, there was even one instance though unconfirmed of penis captivus where the parties could not be separated after intercourse for a while, the male participant allegedly the son of the principal.

Denial and hypocrisy around us

Sometimes, the girls disappeared for a while, recorded as ill with apparent tuberculosis whilst most definitely, a pregnancy was terminated. The female teachers in school were matrons of ovulatory expertise, they could tell if a girl was pregnant from the whites of her eyes, her continual spitting, and some other natural sign of divination before inquiring wether the pregnancy was caught by contagion if no name of the sexual partner was forthcoming.

I do not think any male got called out for sexual intercourse except in our last year when two girls were gang-raped by a group of boys with whom at least one had provided times of intimacy years before.

All ready to do something

For those of us who were not daring enough to approach the opposite sex, we were not entirely sexless. My first exploration was when a classmate during a moment of being alone together asked if we could copulate. I did not know what copulate meant even though from an earlier age I seemed to have some excitement looking up words that began with sex. I had eaten of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil from 7 and after that, pederasty did occur at home with people employed to care for us.

He soon left the boarding school as he just did not cope with the environment. In terms, it was harsh for many of us leaving home for the first time, but we found ways to adapt. Being one of the youngest of my class, I was quite developed for my age, taller with pubic hair that others thought I had acquired by the application of methylated spirit. I do not know where the idea of hair growth by methylated spirit came from.

The fundamentals of fluid mechanics

Soon, there were partners my age mates were in a lower class but full of sexual needs and seeking some partnership in which I found a few to fumble or frot. Later, there was one, a classmate, with whom fumbling led to fellatio with the experience of ejaculation, he called fluid. That even went on until two or three years after we left school.

I never met with the ones who had homosexual inclinations, at least, not until I began seeing them in pubs, clubs, and parties in the UK. I cannot speak for their experiences as they all seem to want to avoid engagement even as it was quite obvious, they did not miss their way into those places of encounter.

All the others are married, the ones I still remember and are even grandparents. We can agree that those days of our youth were just experimenting in practical fluid mechanics; the physics, the chemistry, and the biology of it, the subject of memories of old mischief.

Blog - RSS Mischief I - Yikes! A snake

Sunday, 22 August 2021

For more than just the dreams

Towards the good perfect

What would you think is your idea of perfect in the midst of everything you encounter and the life you live? I think of many things, the way things are and the way I want things to be along with how to bridge the gap between those situations.

Yes, we dream and we desire, even we hope and try not to despair, our yearnings against our earnings in a tussle of the possibility and bringing impossibility into the realm of reality. Life imitates many things including fantasy and somewhere within the gifts we are given we deign to think nothing is really out of reach.

From my mind to living

I guess what is paramount in my mind is companionship and then everything else that makes all that work out. This pandemic has upset so many things, but it won’t be long as the visions form in the vivid tapestry of my active mind and imagination; Brian, Cape Town, working from home from anywhere in the world, the thriving of my partner and the freedom to be and be well.

Indeed, what is your idea of the current imperfect becoming as close to as perfect can be, where the luck, the good, the grace, the favour, and fortune all smile on you.