Death, new life and hospitals again!

Rosalea Mia Brown born in Edinburgh

Our son and his family in Edinburgh.

I was presented with this and a voucher to mark 25 years as a Workplace Chaplain

How life changes - taken I think about 1980, my wife and I are 3rd and 4th from the left.

Death...

While we were on holiday I had a phone call from my friend Graeme's sister. He had died some weeks before, had not wanted a funeral, but now she was inviting me to be present as his family buried his ashes at his parents' plot. "Would you like to be there with the family?" she asked. "Yes." I replied. Graeme had been a good friend during our school days. "Would you be able to say a few words. We haven't a clue what to do?" "Yes, I would be happy to, we were good mates!" I said wondering if I would be up to doing it. I had been wheezing and coughing a lot and been getting very tired. So a couple of weekends later, after taking a part in an annual service remembering Merchant Navy seamen and their part in the World Wars, my wife and I headed for the cemetery.  We joined the family around the prepared hole in the ground. I introduced myself because some would not have known me, then asked the people gathered to share memories and thoughts. One by one they did with each bouncing off other comments. When it seemed right I said a few words and invited his sister to put the little named box of ashes in the hole. She stepped forward knelt and put it in. She couldn't get it to fit under the plinth, so she looked up at me and asked, "David can you do it for me?" I knelt, gently took the box from her hands and moved it into place. "Thanks for your friendship Graeme." I said quietly, as I placed his remains in place. Then it hit me, I was burying a school mate, maybe I could be next, certainly I am of the age and I was wheezing. We finished the brief ceremony and took turns at filling in the hole. One cousin's wife, with Maori heritage, softly sang a spontaneous appropriate song, which was quite unexpected and moving. Afterward we left the family to go to a restaurant together and we went for some coffee. I found it quite an emotional experience.
Birth...
While we were on holiday we received word that our seventh grandchild, a girl, had been born in Edinburgh. Rosalea Mia Brown came into the world and we received a photo on our phone. It is moments like this that makes the distance between NZ and Edinburgh, Scotland, seem so far away. It may as well be in space! We have since met a few times on Skype but sometime it will be great to hold her physically and share the delight with her family. Life goes on, a new generation begins to take over. 
Hospitals again.
After 2018 being bugged by health issues, I looked forward to 2019 being my healthy year. Last year I was treated for my over-active thyroid, (treatment continues) I had a prolapsed disk in my back that caused issues, and I was hospitalised three times with my prostate problems. "2019, turn the page, be healthy and get fit again", was my New Year motto. But I have been wheezy and struggling with shortness of breath. I thought that it would come right, but it didn't. Then one Monday evening I was sitting watching TV and I went into a coughing spree. I flaked out, collapsing forward in the chair. It was funny because my wife thought I was joking and ignored my performance, then suddenly realised I was actually out to it. She started shouting at me and banging me on my back. I came to wondering what had happened, and just said, "Stop hitting me!" We ignored the event and carried on. Just after midnight on the Wednesday night I woke up coughing and gasping for breath. "It feels like I am drowning!" I said to my wife.  On the Thursday I went to my brewery chaplaincy and walked up six stories of steps. I had done this once a week for twenty four years, but this time when I reached the top I was desperately holding on to the handrail to stay upright and gasping for breath! I met my wife briefly for lunch and told her, before she went to her volunteer work at the hospital. She texted me later, "Made an appointment with the Doctor for tomorrow at 2pm." She insisted on coming into the doctor's room with me. He checked me out. "It could be heart?" he commented. "It could be asthma?" I went down the hall gave blood for blood tests and was given an ECG. All was well, so I was given an inhaler, and told that a chest x-ray was booked and an appointment was made to see the Doctor again in a week. I later had a call from the medical centre advising that a blood test had raised an issue and if it got worse to go straight to the hospital emergency department. The next Thursday on my way to visit my brewery people again, I called at the hospital for the booked appointment with the x-ray department for a chest x-ray. It was taken and I asked the technician if my doctor would have the results for my appointment with him the next day. She commented, "I need to see a doctor here, can you wait here for five minutes?" She came back and informed me that I had "to go straight down to the emergency department, the Doctor was forwarding the x-ray to them." She actually led me there, I think to make sure I didn't escape. Long story short, I ended up in the respiratory ward and there, for the rest of the day, a doctor drained in excess of two litres of pink coloured fluid from around my left lung! The nurses, technicians and doctors were simply fabulous people. They were baffled as to why I had the fluid, but said honestly and openly, they were looking for cancer. I have since had a CT scan and last Friday my wife and I went in for a consultation. "We have not found any sign of cancer, but we still do not know why the fluid was there." They went on to say that the tests so far made them 80% sure that cancer was not present. My options were to carry on, and have a further chest x-ray in a month to see if fluid built up again, or they could do key hole surgery to go in and have a look... which if it was clear would make them 97% sure there was no cancer. "If there is cancer," they said, "it will be treatable but not able to be cured." They invited us to go away, have a cup of tea and decide what we wanted to do. We did, our daughter joined us, and I have decided to have the keyhole operation, so that I know what is happening. So in the next couple of weeks I'll be back in hospital. In some ways I am not worried.  If it is all bad news, I have had a good life, can look back with satisfaction and die in peace. (though I would not like looking forward to slowly losing the ability to breathe. I could think of better ways of going.) I mentioned to my wife that if it was bad, I would leave her in a bit of a mess, with a big block of land and house that both need a lot of work to tidy them up. "I'll would cope." she said, confidently, and I wondered if that came out a bit fast?? I am feeling better and more energetic now so am feeling positive. It was my turn to lead a Church service this morning, and I think it had a bit of urgency and edge that otherwise might not have been there. So we will see what 2019 will bring. Meantime life goes on as per normal.

Photos from the last few weeks.

We were heading away for a holiday to visit family, so we had to do some last minute checking of our vege patch. I do love getting a meal out of the garden. Three pictures of just some parts of our garden.

A potato patch 

Various veges, beans, turnips, silver beet etc.

Love these healthy leaf vegetables

We took a couple of days to drive the 360 Kilometres to the City of Christchurch, where we spent time visiting with our son and his family. After a weekend of enjoying them we drove the next 308k to Blenheim to stop for a couple of nights. That trip was hindered often by having to stop for massive road works. They had a devastating earthquake which ruined roads and rail in the area a couple of years ago. Vast hillsides slid down, and big areas of the sea bed shunted up. From Blenheim we caught the ferry across Cook Strait to Wellington, NZ's capital city. (a three hour cruise) There we spent time with my oldest son, his wife and two children. On the Sunday we drove North over the Rimitaka Hill to the Wairarapa plains. My son has moved a house on to a block of land in the country and on a very hot day he and I fixed up the spouting (guttering) on the house.

My old van caked in sea salt because it ended up out on the deck of the ferry for the three hour crossing.

I walked up a big hill behind my son's house. This is looking down on the suburb of Island Bay.

There is this rock statue on top of the hill I climbed. To prove I made it I had to take a photo.

The house on the block in Wairarapa has been moved on to the flat paddock. It requires lots of work, so I was pleased to help my son for a day. It was hot though and I increasingly find I cant work at the pace I used to. I am in the bright overalls.

On the Monday we caught the ferry back to the south island. We had taken some stuff up to my son, but while in Wellington we visited the shop at the rubbish tip and a favourite secondhand book shop. At the rubbish tip I spied this vanity unit which was better than we had in our bathroom at home. We purchased it and it fitted in our trusty van.

Going to the South Island the ferry sails through the beautiful Marlborough Sounds. It is a fascinating area of our beautiful country.

Today we installed the vanity unit in our bathroom.  It cost us only $15. Tidied up and self installed it was pretty cheap all around. I love beating the consumer system and recycling old stuff as much as possible.

My wife was not that keen, but we drove the distance from Blenheim to home in one day. It is only 663 Kilometres, but on NZ roads that is quite a distance. My van is an old 1996 Nissan Diesel which when I bought it years ago, only cost $1500. People often give me cheek about it. I do a lot of my own mechanical work, but it has more than paid for itself in the trips we have done and the loads we have carried. I enjoy driving and was so pleased with the way the old beast handled our break away. It was great to spend time with the two families. While we were travelling our son's wife in Edinburgh had a new baby girl. They now have three children, two boys and a daughter. Since being home we have met our new granddaughter via Skype. Life is good. The busyness of 2019 starts for me on Monday. A big part of me has enjoyed the life of freedom over these last few of weeks and I feel a bit reluctant to pick up my responsibilities again. 

"Bastards everywhere!"

My wife and I are on a brief holiday, driving north from Dunedin, NZ, eventually going to Wellington, doing the trip to catch up on two of our children and their families. We are in Christchurch . My back is playing up so I forced myself to go for a walk to see if I could free it up some more. I was walking down the footpath and suddenly realised that there was an elderly man riding a mobility scooter wanting to pass me. He began asking questions as I fell in line with his scooter. I told him I had a sore back and was going for a walk to try to improve things. “How did you hurt your back?” he asked. “Well early last year I was fencing (as in fixing a fence) and in the process overstrained it.” “Fencing!” he said, “Yeah that would do it!” Then he launched into telling me some of his life story. “I’ve been a bloody shearer most of my life. By God, you can do your back in in that game!” I recognised him as one who lived in a caravan at the camp ground we were staying in. As he got faster and faster on his scooter he talked and talked about working on farms in NZ and Australia. I was getting hot just trying to keep up.

Among other things, he talked of industrial clashes between farmers and shearers in both countries, and the evil leadership that there was in the NZ Federated farmers. He said, “There were some bloody nasty bastards in the leadership of the Federated Farmers. How do the nasty ones get to the top? They were bastards!” he repeated. Then he chuckled, “Mind you there were some real nasty bastards leading the shearers in those days too! How does that happen? Where ever you are there are nasty bastards causing problems!” “I guess,” I blurted out, “Those are the people who like to hang on to power!” … I nearly said, “It even happens in Church circles.” But he had talked about “those religious bastards” earlier and I had not admitted that I was a Church Minister. “Yeah you’re right." he said, "Bastards love power whoever they are!”

….. Looking at the world today and the weird things happening, this elderly sheep shearer perhaps sums up the problem… “There are bastards everywhere!” Thankfully that is not the full picture, but just now you begin to wonder?

Contemporaries dying!

This is a group from the Church Youth Group on Stewart Island (Southern most Island of NZ) We had gone on an excursion by train and ferry from Dunedin.  We were there the weekend that President Kennedy got shot in November 1963. I recall an elderly lady coming out of her wee Stewart Island cottage and telling us the news. I am on the right in the front and Graham is sitting next to me.  

Graeme died...
Last week I had a text from my sister that an old school mate of mine had been found dead at his back door in a town about an hour and a half's drive away. My sister was a school mate of his sister, so we knew the family quite well when we were young. 
I was in Standard three, about 8/9 years old when I first met Graeme. His father ran a grocery store almost next to the school. You could describe Graeme as a bit of a nerd, and I was always about half way between the nerds and the popular kids at school. I loved sport but did not have the coordination nor confidence to be good at it. Graeme and I got on together. Graeme had two sisters, one older and one younger. He once had a still older sister, but sadly she had died not long before I got to know the family. They were richer than we were, but I think they were still quite sad because of their loss. Graeme's mum and dad seemed to be fairly serious. The Grocery shop had an old stables out the back and all sorts of things were stored there. Graeme and I would explore that building often after school. I think his parents liked that he had a male friend, so seemed to encourage me to spend time there. I sometimes got into trouble at home because I stayed there too long. I recall my mum scolding me once, saying, "I guess you would rather live at their house! Is that what you think?" 
Sometimes on Sunday afternoon's Graeme's family would visit his grandparents down the Otago peninsula, and I was invited for the ride. They had a Vanguard car and I recall sitting in the back seat in awe of this machine. We only had a two cylinder Bradford van! Down there there was a public playground, an old artillery gun and the shore line to explore. Graeme was in my class from Primary School, through intermediate school and for the first two years of High School. Even when he wasn't in my class we would meet up at lunch time with others, and chat, play cricket and generally hang around together. He came to our Church Youth Group and became part of the gang. He was more scholarly than I was, more refined and almost effeminate in his manner. I left high school and went on to serve a plumbing apprenticeship, while he went to university, and I think studied English/journalism. We saw each other spasmodically for a while, then he moved North, we both got married (though I don't think his lasted long) so that by the time I got to university, he was well gone. 

I moved to Australia and our paths never crossed for many years. I occasionally heard about him through my sister who was still in touch with his sister. About six years ago his sister came into my office and asked me if I would conduct her husband's funeral. So once again I was involved with the family. Graeme lived about one and a half hours away, and I saw him at the funeral. We chatted after, and seemed to fall into the same level of conversation as when we were at school. He was single and living alone. He had recently written a book and it was going to be launched. I was interested in that whole process. We swapped email addresses, but unfortunately we never made contact again. I was sad and felt guilty when I heard that he had died. He was a little younger than I, still in his seventieth year.

Another class mate died...
I picked up the paper this morning and read of the death of another guy who was in my class at school. He had gone on to be a really good and well known cricket player, and a teacher with a fine reputation for going the extra mile with his pupils. I recall that he once coached two of my boys for basket ball. He was the same age as I am.  Once again I was shocked to read of a contemporary dying. 

I guess we are lucky to get to the age we have and such news will become quite frequent. It does make you reflect on how you have spent your life. It doesn't seem long ago that we were teenagers, hanging around together! Where did that time go?

Post Christmas reflections.

My old Macbook Pro... so much good work... but like me, now old. 

I met a man today. Many years ago here I am helping his mum move into the Habitat for Humanity House we built when he was just a shy boy. 

Pre-Christmas weekend
Last weekend was really busy. At the little local Presbyterian Church we decided to reach out into our community at Christmas. We are a little Church with most people older than I am. On a good Sunday we would get a congregation in the early 20's - but we have been adding to that number - slowly. In the last year or so we have been making attempts to serve our community with a couple of programs geared for families. On Saturday the 22nd December we held a community BBQ in the evening. It rained but we moved inside, and with me cooking the sausages, we had a great time. We had somewhere between 60 - 70 people come through. I led a fairly small Sunday service, but on Christmas Eve we held a family orientated service which we had advertised well. There were 70 - 80 people there, mostly young families. I led that. On Christmas Day we as a family had a quiet day. Our out of town families were visiting in-laws so we only had our local daughter and son-in-law and our foster daughter who copes with severe disabilities. We contacted all our family via phone or Skype. It was, however, a very busy few days. I hope, dear reader, that you had a great Christmas Day too. 
Health
I have been getting over my surgery, but having a difficult time. I have felt tired. I seem to have had indigestion and times of nausea, especially at night. It has distressed me because I was looking forward to leaving illness and health issues behind. I even worried that I was beginning to have heart problems. Last night I woke with world war three happening in my stomach. I got up and found comfort trying to sleep in the lazy-boy chair in the lounge. I got to thinking about my experience, feeling quite depressed. Then a penny dropped. Since my back problems and whenever I had renewed back or muscle pain I had been taking a prescribed pill for damaged nerves, that helped me relax. In the wee small hours of the morning I determined to look up the side effects of that pill. So after breakfast I went on the internet and found the appropriate sites. Apart from one or two symptoms, it was an exact description of what I had been experiencing! So I will stop using that medication and look forward to 2019 with more hope. It has got to be an improvement on 2018!
Today a day of nostalgia. 
A man now - We visited a hardware store and were searching for the right purchase at the right price. I was on the other side of a fixture than my wife when I heard her being greeted warmly by a man. They engaged in warm conversation and I wondered who he could be? "David's around the other side." I heard my wife say. A fully bearded young man came around the corner. I had not talked with him for years. I first knew him as a young shy boy, the son of a woman whose house we built through Habitat for Humanity. I am a facebook friend with his mum, so I recognised him from recent photos. He is now a student, working over the holidays at the hardware store. He lives with his partner and seemed very outgoing, warm and friendly. My mind went over the journey we had been on with his mum, him and his younger sister. We have kept in touch with mum often. I felt good once again about the energy I had poured into building the house for this family. His mum and his sister, also a student, still live in the house.
A fire chief - We were visiting the hardware store before lunch today and coming out we bumped into one of the local fire chiefs. He is high in the regional rankings. He greeted me warmly and his wife joined us. We chatted briefly and moved on. My mind went over our journey. I knew him as a new firefighter years ago, when he started in the midst of industrial unrest in the fire service. I have taken naming ceremonies for his teenage children when they were new born babies. I have taken his Dad's funeral. As I drove away I was having another warm trip down memory lane. 
Changing computer - My old Macbook Pro is old! It is so old that I cannot get updates for applications and modern stuff does not work on it, though it still does a good job. I have eventually been convinced that since I use it for powerpoint presentations, videos and music in Church, I ought to update it. So this afternoon I have purchased a flash new apple laptop, and with the help of my daughter and son-in-law, managed to set it up. There is sadness, the other one had travelled around the world and has done a lot of work for Habitat for Humanity, Churches and for the Night Shelter. It opened up a whole new world for me. I kind of suspect this new one will see me out. 

Change is inevitable, life has its uncertainties, but good warm memories enrich the journey and help bring significance to it all.  Happy New Year, all the best for you and yours, and all of us on planet earth, in 2019. 

Friendship - Generosity - Surgery at last.

Dunedin Night Shelter

Mercy Hospital Dunedin NZ

Friendship experience - On Thursday, Friday and Saturday, a week ago I got to spend nearly three working days with a friend from Alaska.  He is a fisherman, a year younger than I, who I met years ago when I was involved with Habitat for Humanity. He used to escape Alaskan winters by visiting NZ, surfing NZ waves, tramping NZ hills and fishing in NZ waters.(when he had a one man boat here.)  He would time his visits to be in various parts of the country so that he could work on Habitat for Humanity sites.  With a brief NZ visit this year he rang me to see if there was any handyman work required at the Night Shelter. Over the years he has donated many thousands of dollars to the Dunedin night shelter cause. The funny thing is, I do not think he is poor, but if you saw him walking down the street or in the old van he drives (older than mine!) you would suspect he was some sort of homeless tramp.  He does not have email or use the internet, (which I find frustrating) and when he visits he insists on sleeping in a tent at the camping ground. It was great, however, to spend three days doing some roof repair work with him at the Night Shelter, I was back at my old trade of being a plumber and he was my “apprentice”. We had elongated interesting lunch hour discussions - Donald Trump - The Church - American democracy –climate change – NZ politics - Christian faith – getting old - and the future. He is a pleasant quietly spoken man, but I have learned over the years, that when we are together working or walking he is relaxed and not backward in sharing his beliefs and opinions.  He came to our place for morning tea on Tuesday before he headed out of town and we both admitted to being a bit sore and tired from our efforts. My friend summed up the conversation with “’Gettin’ old ain’t for sissies!’ is what they say in America”.  I just love how service to great causes builds bridges of friendship between people of different backgrounds. I also value the friends my involvements have brought into my life. 

Generosity - We spent three working days at the Night Shelter and during those hours there were no staff working. Each day we were there we encountered at least three visits from people giving donations for the shelter! A young couple that had just started running a café in town came with left over baking they had at the end of the day.  A woman who is the best forklift driver at the brewery I visit as chaplain came on the Saturday with her family. She delivered a heap of delicious left over food from the workers’ Christmas party. A man who had heard a talk about the night shelter brought a quantity of shampoo and cleaning products. Some mysterious person dropped a bag of good clothing. These were just some examples. With each visit I felt compelled to welcome and thank them. I would then proudly show them through the shelter and answer questions. I was thankful I had an “apprentice” who just kept working. I love the generosity and empathy somehow built into the hearts of so many people.

Surgery at last - I have grumped about my “prostate issues” in blog posts recently. I have had two stays in hospital with infections, and frustrations living with a catheter while New Zealand’s Accident Compensation Corporation make a decision whether or not to pay for surgery. I got a letter saying they would pay, so I rang the reception office of the specialist a couple of weeks ago. To my surprise the voice on the phone asked, “What date would you like?” So today I went into a private hospital, had my surgery and late in the afternoon returned home. I hope it all works out fine. The actual procedure turned out being more extensive than what they thought was necessary, but the specialist came to visit me and satisfied himself that I was fit to go home.  I will not be doing much tomorrow, but I am thankful that it has happened.  I am looking forward to a more comfortable healthy, normal life again.  The nurse who looked after me in the hospital was great. She was friendly, caring, with a sense of humour that kept me smiling and she accepted my weird sense of humour.  

Dunedin hospital/ACC "poor me" gripe.

Background
A few months ago I got referred to the urology department at Dunedin hospital, NZ because I was retaining fluid. A cystoscopy (which caused a scary infection) revealed it was caused by scar tissue from previous TURP operations. It would be fair to say that New Zealand's public health system is not in good shape, it has not received sufficient funding. (The Political Party that has been in for nearly a decade before the current party favoured private health options.) Dunedin hospital's Urology department seems to have gained a reputation for its waiting lists of patients. In New Zealand we have the "Accident Compensation Corporation" which administers the country's no-fault accidental injury scheme. The scheme provides financial compensation and support to citizens, residents, and temporary visitors who have suffered personal injury. The specialist who checked the cystoscopy suggested that since it was scar tissue, ACC might fund the needed operation, so that maybe I would get the operation earlier. An application was lodged. I am waiting for the result of that while a catheter is in place. I had another four day spell in hospital recently with an infection - it happens while wearing a catheter. The ACC wrote to me recently asking if I would sign a form to allow them to have more time to make a decision. If I did not sign the form they would make a decision on the information that they had. I agreed, thinking that I am more likely to get a positive result if they had the time they need. But I am pretty desperate, I HATE having a catheter in place.
Reaching out in frustration!
In frustration, I wrote an open letter to ACC which went in with the return form, with a copy to the Dunedin Hospital Urology department.
Here is what I wrote...

An open note to those involved in ACC and to the Urology Dept. Dunedin Hospital.

My NHI number (XXXXX.)   ACC claim number (XXXXXX)

Dear people,

I am signing the form from ACC agreeing to more time being taken to assess my case for surgery. However, I do want to make a plea for as much speed as possible in making the decision.  I am waiting for surgery, wearing a catheter with a whole heap of consequences for life. I am used to waiting.  Since 2012 I have spent a lot of time waiting.

·      I waited almost a year with a catheter prior to my unsuccessful surgery in March 2013.

·      I waited almost another year while self-catheterising before I had successful surgery in Invercargill late February 2014.

·      In 2017 I waited for 8 months of uncertainty for a biopsy after a digital examination.

I was referred to Urology after a back injury and an ED doctor noted that I was retaining fluid late February 2018. I have had appointments with continence nurses and the Urology nurse, but apart from the cystoscopy, which involved the briefest communication of the results and need for surgery, I have not had a “real consultation/conversation” with a urologist. (Except helpful conversations with the Wellington team after I was admitted there via the ED because of a klebsiella pneumonia infection a few days after the Dunedin cystoscopy. – this was an extremely distressing episode because I had been asked to be celebrant for a friend’s funeral, and the bereaved family had to find somebody else at the last moment)

The “waiting” experience…

Wearing a catheter is not much fun for someone who is trying to keep active and doing things.

·      Infections are always possible and this tends to limit what you can do. I have found that when you have a catheter in place, if you do hard physical activity it often leads to blood clots in the urine, and the possibility of infections. I was admitted to Dunedin hospital on October 5^th for four days because of an infection. (again that prevented me leading a Church service.) I have a big vege garden to plant and enjoy exercise.

·      It knocks your confidence in mixing with people. I am retired but am still doing chaplaincy at Fire Service, St John Ambulance and Speights brewery, leading two services a month at the local Church and volunteer in the community.  So I am mixing with people, lead services, funerals, etc.  I once had a catheter system come apart while browsing in a crowded hardware store. I was peeing uncontrollably!  For me the uncertainty involved in wearing a catheter in such circumstances increases the stresses involved incredibly.

·      It limits travel/holidays.  We have grandchildren in Wellington, Christchurch and Edinburgh. We cannot make plans to visit for two reasons. (1) We don’t know when surgery might be possible. (2) Once in the night as I tossed and turned in my sleep, I pulled out the connection to my night bag and woke up in a pool of pee. Imagine if that happened in a motel bed?  Summer visits can’t happen this year it seems!

·      It does nothing for your sex life! (enough said)

So while I am happy to sign the form agreeing to an extension of time, I plead for as much haste as possible. My wife has been phoning ACC and hospitals (She is aware of my state of mind) and disappointing delays in communication seem apparent. I know there are many in worse situations, but still feel compelled to ask for sensitivity to the depressing experience of waiting while wearing a catheter and trying still to lead a useful life.

Yours sincerely,  ....

Depression

I have to admit that this period of wearing a catheter has had a bigger impact on my "mental health" than my earlier experiences. I have a flip-flo valve so am not carrying a leg bag, but I plug in to a night bag over night. I have simply felt depressed. I find I feel like I am on the verge of tears, and watching TV, hearing a sad story, seeing a sad or challenging film, reading the newspaper will often bring tears to my eyes. (Today I watched a clip from the "Scully" film - the plane landing on the Hudson River- and my eyes filled with tears) Twice while leading church services recently I have had to "take a moment" to control my emotions, to  be able to carry on. This cannot be all blamed on the catheter. With my back problems earlier in the year and the re-emergence of prostate issues, I realise I am no longer "bullet proof".  But I am finding that more than ever, I tend to want to avoid mixing with people.  Sometimes the slightest anti-reaction from a person will throw me more than ever. e.g. the fire fighters have teased me for years. It is just part of the good natured banter of the place and a fire chief once told me, "They only do it to people they love." But these days I find I sometimes come away thinking I wished they wouldn't.  People want my opinion or involvement in something, and my first thought is, "Bugger off", where as I would generally welcome the challenge. My wife has been hounding both hospital and ACC and there seems to be some discrepancy in answers given, which is disappointing. 

Dig deep and keep going...

In it all I am learning to dig deep and keep going. I keep successfully leading Church services, I keep on mixing with and listening to people in my chaplaincies, and keep doing things. But I do choose on occasion to step back just to protect myself. 

UPDATE
The day after I posted this blog I received a letter from the Accident Compensation Corporation saying that they would fund my operation. There's light at the end of the tunnel! :-)

This is a photo a guy took during an Armistice Day Centenary Sunday service we held. We advertised and nearly doubled the size of the little congregation. There was a good response.

These photos are of a Command Unit dedication ceremony that followed a St John Ambulance Church parade I led.