queen mary sets sail

In total, I've only done it eight times before. And so far my experience has been, the last day at a job is often not the way you expect it. I remember once a job I had while at High School, in a local retail store. I arrived back from a four week holiday to discover the day-to-day manager had been replaced, and the new one didn't know I existed. The exchange, “I work here.” He: “No you don't.” I went home, perplexed, put out, yet quite pleased in a way as I hadn't completely enjoyed it. Anyway! The building pictured here is Roehampton House (1710), the centrepiece of Queen Mary's Hospital. For the last 16 months I've been seconded there for Tuesday mornings and Thursdays. But today was my last day.

Around the turn of the year the current team there talked of the new hospital being built at that site, destined to open in 2005. We speculated whether any of us would still be working there by then. I've written before on more than one occasion about changes in that team. As I look back at the photos of our Christmas do, not one of those staff still works in the service. The team has recruited a number of permanent staff now, with a noticeable move from Antipodean to English staff as a result. Hopefully they'll see some more stability. But as for me, I am sad, but I am going. And my departure has mostly snuck up on me too, though I knew it was coming. It's not real yet. I'm going to miss the (new replacement) team there... I'd managed to become attached to them already, though no one else has been there more than about three months. But the upside is my change in role means I'll now only have two jobs instead of three, and I'll run them both from the same building. It'll be the first time since I was a postgraduate student that I'll be spending five days a week in the same office. I'm looking forward to it, hoping it will “do my head in” a little less.

With Bronwyn continuing to improve, her parents flew in last Friday, in a well-timed trip that was actually planned six months ago and had nothing originally to do with her illness. It's been lovely to have them here. Bronwyn's dad has been suffering from problems with his leg which were significant enough to need urgent attention. So the Saturday morning after his arrival saw him down at a local gym seeing a private neuromuscular physiotherapist, that I'd arranged through a recommendation from the physios at work. She has located the problem as being spinal rather than leg-based, though the leg is where the obvious effects have been. He's now on a stringent diet of exercises, overseen by his lovely but firm assistant Bronwyn. The primarily involve him working the (apparently) good right leg, to stretch back muscles and bring the spine back into proper alignment. David made a further visit today, to an Osteopath associated with the same team. He and Jenny head off on a nine day tour in Europe tomorrow, but he'll be getting further attention immediately on his return. Meanwhile if you're spiritually-inclined, please remember David in your prayers—particularly that he won't have any more occasions of painfully tripping, that seems to be associated with a proprioceptive problem (aka the brain doesn't know exactly where the foot is right now...) Ah, are we not fearfully and wonderfully made...

yPod

An iPod and an iPod Mini have come into my life. Not, I have to add, so much on a collision course but rather on a tantalising regular orbit—often seen, never mine...

Bronwyn recently bought me a replacement for an old, now expired friend. So I proudly present to you today: the yPod! (Pictured here with Hayley's iPod Mini.)

Benefits of the yPod over the iPod:

• iPod: 10,000 songs in your pocket. yPod: infinite music in your pocket. Don't waste your time ripping CDs—the yPod wirelessly downloads multiple channels of music, automatically, with international coverage.
• Standard batteries provide days of operating time (cf. iPod's 12 hours).
• Should batteries become flat in the field, replacement batteries can be purchased at tens of thousands of stores around the world for a few cents.
• For even more remote destinations, the yPod's integrated generator allows manual recharging of internal batteries by winding the winch on the side. When not in use the winch folds away into the yPod case.
• yPod provides hourly news updates on world events from a variety of major media networks, subscription-free.
• Should you not wish to use headphones, the yPod incorporates a built-in speaker system for simultaneous multiple users.
• yPod supports two major distribution formats (AM and FM) compared to the iPod's single source.
• Compared with the inferior backlighting on the iPod, the yPod incorporates an integrated LED torch for decent night time lighting.
• Scratch-resistant large plastic case in bright yellow increases visibility to prevent loss of the yPod. (Also, when your device is identified as a yPod, you may be less likely to be mugged for it.)
• The yPod ships as standard with a USB cable which enables you to charge other electronic devices using the internal generator of the yPod, including mobile phones or even, with an additional cable, your friend's iPod. (Full recharge time for iPod battery estimated at 3.2 years.)
• Finally, for the price of an iPod, you can buy a yPod for yourself and also for 59 of your friends.

Convinced?

No... me neither... [hggn].

breeze

In my work I have been known to tell people, “Memory is reconstructive by nature...” The thing is, well, we are more than the sum of our linear verbalised narrative self-reconstructions. Yah. So, to a small extent in that vein, I sense a slight change in the breeze around here. This blog has been canvas, journal, and mirror as much as a letter home over the last year... But over on the sidebar I've now added something I've not included before. Under “Other Networks” you'll find a selected (and growing) list of other places I think are worth visiting for some reason (or occasionally, non-reason). Tar me egocentric, but really I'm thinking of this first as another triangulation on us, as much as an encouragement for you to visit others. (Though there is much to be mined on many of those sites.) I hope if you follow some of those links you may hear harmonics of the things influencing my inner world.

In the same vein I think I'll ocasionally point you to particular memes that are infiltrating my thinking. These two things—collections of site links (a “blogroll") and linking to other people's writing—are the bread and butter of many blogs. Neither has been a big part of what I've been exploring in this space before. Let me know what you think, if you like.

So let me talk of Jen Lemen, who recently wrote of her son's experience of his own birth. I found this a moving piece, as a potential father. (No, not right now. But, well, maybe not so far away either.) The body has memory. I know this in my head. And I know this too in my body. Jen has given the body words.

Something else got me thinking today in a whole other way: Maggi Dawn's piece on the Christian doctrine of the trinity and worship... Even as a Christian who has counted my years in a range of churches, Maggi's piece opened up my thinking in new dimensions.

(Thank you Maggi. Thank you Jen. My world is a little bigger tonight.)

let there be light

...and there was light, and the light shone on in the darkness. The photo shows one of the halogen bulbs I recently replaced in our hallway. The cunning lighting design in that part of the flat includes six halogen bulbs that retail for about £4 each yet still manage to provide only patchy light. Four of our bulbs were blown, but we were not willing to pay retail and so eventually I got round to e-shopping and managed to get ten bulbs for a penny short of a tenner, incl. VAT and shipping. You can buy anything (cheaper) on the interweb.

But the sentiment (y'know, letting there be light) could equally apply to Bronwyn's ongoing improvement over the last few days. It's nice to see more regular colour returned to her face, and at the same time she is having less frequent headaches and more energy. Her ears are now much slower to block up when she's upright—this would happen instantly before. (This is important, as we think this has more to do with brain, CSF pressure, and sinus cavities than exterior nasal events.)

The last two nights we've had the pleasure of hosting Michael and Jenny, on a grand valedictorial tour prior to (re-)emigrating, this time to the United Arab Emirates. Having visited them in Whitby and then York, we're now selfishly looking forward to another possible destination... though maybe not just a weekend this time.

I draft this on the 285 bus, some 20 minutes shy of our arrival at Heathrow Airport. Having risen at 4:30am this morning, we're hoping to trade in Michael and Jenny for another Jenny (Halse, Bronwyn's mother) accompanied unsurprisingly by Bronwyn's father David. (Though we shall call him Michael for the week. You know. Just to avoid confusion, like.) We've never been to Heathrow overland—when people arrive at more consciousness-inducing times of the day, it's easier to get there by tube. As a result, we've never had a sense of Heathrow as anything other than an isolated island of existence before. Anyway, David (sorry, “Michael") and Jenny will be in this part of the world for a month. The trip was planned long before Bronwyn's illness, but it really couldn't be better timed. Bronwyn is just now getting well enough to enjoy their trip. And while the Kumera I was able to buy in Sainsbury's on the weekend was a nice taste of home compared to the usual inferior sweet potato they have here, when it comes down to it there's nothing like a visit from your Ma and Pa.

itchy

Bronwyn is getting itchy—not so much a dermatological complaint, as cabin fever. She continues to make slow day-by-day progress, with her basically continuous headache each day being a little less severe. Her neck is no longer sore, and there is no longer any issue with nausea. She's looking forward to a return to more normal life. I'm glad she's got six weeks off from Wednesday to recuperate anyway, thanks to the well-timed summer holidays.

Meanwhile, Bronwyn's parents were due to depart from New Zealand today, en route to London via Hong Kong. A mishap with a faulty batch of passport glue (we think of the plastic bit over the photo?) meant that they were turned away at the check-in desk, lest anyone think her Dad had an interfered-with passport. They've got new emergency passports from the authorities, free since it was a known faulty batch apparently, but will depart 24 hours late. They've shortened their three days in Hong Kong to two, so we're still expecting them here in London Friday (5:30am!). The trip has been planned for months, but Bronwyn will be extra glad to have them here after her period of sickness. Her Dad is nursing an injured/just-not-working leg too so we'll all be able to take it easy together, hopefully. Suits me.

Even before then we're looking forward to Jenny and Michael coming to stay, Wednesday and Thursday night, before they fly out to relocate from York to Dubai. What jetsetting friends we have...

cooked book

We won a cookbook in a minor competition with Air New Zealand a few months ago—all you had to do was update your contact details for your AirPoints membership to be entered. The cookbook never arrived, so the other day I emailed the contact person. They reakon that they sent it, but obviously the Royal Mail let us down. They're sending another copy.

It has been estimated that Royal Mail loses a staggering 14.4 million letters a year. So if you've ever sent us something, and thought we had simply not got around to responding, we'd like to suggest it probably never arrived... So if in doubt, do let us know!

nothing

There is nothing to report. No breaking news. No medical crisis. No sleep deprivation. No urgent update. No competing diagnoses. No hospitalisation...

Bronwyn continues to improve. Today, she didn't notice she forgot to take her midday paracetomol. Tomorrow, all going well, she plans to go out for a short visit to the shops.

But tonight, ah, sweet nothing bliss...

barometer

It is a barometer of Bronwyn's further progress that tonight I am telling her it is time for sleep...  : )

Update: She says, “No, it is just that I am sick of being in this bed.” [Still sounds like progress to me!]

normality

I mentioned last month the idea that boredom is integral to the human ability to change and develop—it is surprising sometimes how quickly new things in our lives things can rapidly become the new “normal”. [Though, by definition, this idea will not stay surprising for long!] So it is that I can say things were basically back to normal today—I spent the day at work, while Bronwyn was home in bed.

Admittedly, we look forward to a time in the near future where her horizons are wider than this property, and her choices less supervised by those family and friends who want her to imbibe at least 3,000 kcalories a day. But for now, I am merely content to know she is here, she is feeling a little better, and she is once again telling me it is late and I should get off the computer as it is time for sleep...

Good night.

Late morning a doctor's visit to Bronwyn confirmed last week's inference: the were happy to be sending her home. Bronwyn and I agreed I'd go on the first day of a two-day course I was scheduled to attend today, while keeping my mobile on and checking in regularly during the day. That left me down in Guildford, so by the time I arrive home Bronwyn had been brought home and was being looked after by yesterday's “food angel”...

We now know the MRI originally booked was definitely cancelled. With Bronwyn continuing to improve a little each day, I guess I'm now not feeling so concerned about this. Bronwyn's still not anything like 100%, but it is good to know she's on the improve. She says she's realised now this isn't like the 'flu, and she's not just going to wake up and feel instantly better one morning... [Eureka!] The doctors have agreed to refer her for an outpatient review with a neurologist, which can be cancelled if we feel it is not required. We'll see what comes of that.

In the time Bronwyn has been unwell it has been wonderful to have the support of family and friends, including people from our church here and workmates. We've felt well looked after—thank you everyone. It may be a little while before we can respond to all the emails and the comments on the website but they are much appreciated.

I have to say that if Bronwyn had to become unwell, I've realised the timing was good, actually. Just as she will be getting back on her feet it will be the summer break and she'll have an enforced further six weeks off work (at least). Considering Bronwyn's work ethic, I'd have say that's probably just what the doctor ordered.

expectations

Our expectations are funny things. Sometimes perhaps it's not so much the day we've had, as how far removed it was from what we planned that affects our feelings about it.

Bronwyn's had a couple of weeks now that have certainly not fitted with her expectations. In eight years of teaching, there was once one afternoon where Bronwyn left school early and came home because she was feeling unwell. And that was the total extent of her sick leave career to date. So when, a Thursday afternoon 17 days ago, she threw up on the bus on the way home, I guess it was only natural that her expectation was she would be back at school soon.

Bronwyn basically stayed in bed for five days from that point, but from about the following Wednesday she again started setting her alarm for 5:50am, back to usual. Despite having spent the previous day unable to even sit up in bed, she would leap up expecting to be able to go to school. She would start her morning routine, and have a shower, before collapsing back into bed for the rest of the day. Next day, rinse and repeat.

Even now, going into her seventh day of hospitalisation, Bronwyn had tears in her eyes today as I said to her (and not for the first time) that she obviously would not be going back to work this term, and certainly not this week. (There are eight school days left in the school year here.) This idea is just so far from Bronwyn's expectations that she continues to struggle to come to terms with this. She simply has not comprehended just how unwell she has been, and, though things are progressing well, how unwell she continues to be. (To drift into psychobabble, it is clear to me this is a cognitive dissonance/psychological defense mechanism-style lack of insight, rather than one related to any cognitive-impairment! Bronwyn is quite alert...)

Despite all this, Bronwyn's progress actually fits my expectations and I'm pleased to report she continues to seem stronger, more comfortably mobile, and to have less pain each day (though she is now saying she doesn't need paracetomol... I have firmly encouraged her to keep taking this). She has however lost about 6kg since her illness began, including at least a kilo of that during her admission. She's not close to dangerously underweight but nor did she have six surplus kilos to hand. After an earlier visit to Bronwyn this afternoon, a loving church friend returned to the ward this evening with two large bags of hospital-venue-preparable food, which will be able to supplement or replace the food on offer in the ward. The hospital food had been of variable palatability to date. Thank you food angel!

Meanwhile, my expectations have been all over the place too. I don't know what I was expecting exactly for my birthday but as yesterday's entry said it wasn't all to plan! This morning I woke to discover the optical drive in the laptop now reading the disc I'd been sent. While the drive has stopped working again since, that moment allowed me to copy all the files to my hard drive, and Bronwyn and I had a lovely time watching the footage from home. It made our day.

Finally, expected discharge date: either tomorrow, or maybe not tomorrow! We still don't know... If you're of the praying persuasion, you might like to pray that the medics decide to keep Bronwyn in a day or so longer and still do that MRI. And if you're not, but say you're a Consultant at a local hospital, maybe you should just try and pull some strings in a scanning department somewhere! After all, the Lord works in mysterious ways...

it wasn't bbq weather anyway

Bronwyn continues to seem a bit improved today. She's able to sit up a little longer without severe headaches, and has a little more energy. She's not enjoying the food here in the hospital, and I'm seeing more of the staff canteen food than I would like too—that's where I'm posting this from in fact, using their free internet cafe. She doesn't seem as sleepy today as previous days either, which indicates improvement too I would think.

It's been a funny birthday. However, we had a cake (thanks Sonja and Colin!) and cards and presents at the hospital with Bronwyn. Highlight of the day: unwrapping a CD-ROM from friends Geoff and Adrienne in New Zealand, with (presumably) photos, audio, maybe video? from home. Lowlight of the day: discovering, as a result, that the optical drive in my laptop is dead. This explains the problem I was having with a DVD the other night. As a result, we've not been able to look at the CD-ROM yet at all.   : (   (I'll be able to copy it on another computer at home tonight—we'll watch it together when I see Bronwyn tomorrow—but this darkened my mood considerably. Last straw, I think.)

I just want Bronwyn home now, please. I promise I'll be good.

chocography

What to pick?

Vaduz. Mmm, always dependable...

An Antananarivo! But I thought some of the ingredients for making this were extinct?

Or Ouagadougou? It's been ages since I've had one of these...

Ooo, Bairiki. Small but full-flavoured...

Washington D.C. Hmm, not sure I like the hard centres.

Ahh, Wellington. Now that's more like it!

[Someone gave me a box of assorted Capitals for my birthday, so you'll find our chocographical design will be back on track round here now. Hey, no going to the second layer till you've finished the first...]

the one with the curious birthday

i wonder if people who think they will never find a partner for life, fear waking up on their 30th birthday alone. (not that 30 is old, certainly not “past it", but people sometimes just have funny ideas.) i have to say though i never thought it would happen to me, especially after a certain event a little over seven years ago. it is therefore a curious birthday. and later, how will one celebrate a birthday in a room primarily designed for dialysis?

lest you think bronwyn's condition has deteriorated rather abruptly, it transpires she is what is called a “medical outlier”. while this sounds like something you might delete in a statistical procedure, it refers to a patient who has been admitted under the “General Medicine” specialty, but who cannot fit in their wards and is thus physically housed in another part of the hospital. during their ward rounds the renal consultants breeze past bronwyn, while the more junior doctors look initially quizzical at this patient who seems 30 years too young. someone explains, “she's a medical patient.” ohhh... (bronwyn's own cache of doctors visit later, just for her.)

meanwhile, rest assured that even as an outlier bronwyn is receiving all your electronic greetings at her bedside, courtesy of portable technology. (i discovered today there is even a visible wifi network in the region, but unfortunately they require a password so unless i can identify the owner we won't be replying in real time...) she enjoys hearing from everyone, including people we haven't corresponded with in a while. it's like a little electronic reunion.

speaking of which, i'm planning a little something of that kind. it will be held in a couple of weeks time, when bronwyn is up to participating. it was going to be this sunday, the south pacific version of my 30ld bbq, but it'll have to wait. i'll let you know in coming weeks.

in a little while, when it is a decent hour, i'll be off to see bronwyn at the hospital. i slept for eight hours last night, a two-hour extension on the previous three slumbers. it was reassuring to see her clearly improving yesterday i think.

i'll update again late today when i have fresh news of her progress...

a tail of neurologists

(i'm pleased to say bronwyn is somewhat improved today. now...)

surely the collective noun for neurologists is “a tail", because perhaps all you can ever do is to chase them from behind...

one of my jobs, about a third of my week, is doing assessments for neurologists, and one neurologist in particular is the key contract holder. on fridays he is at the regional neurosciences centre, the atkinson morley wing at st george's. i caught up with him mid-morning at the end of his ward round and let him know about bronwyn's admission and her current situation. he planned to contact her physician and look at either consulting on her case, or even perhaps moving her into the neurosciences wing.

today i set myself up in one of our offices in atkinson morley wing, so i could be nearby but still get some actual work done. i'd arranged with the staff on bronwyn's ward to phone me if any doctors turned up to see her, so i could make the three to four minute walk over to participate. late morning the call came. i logged off the computer, put my files in a locked office, and headed straight down.

i caught him coming the other way, just outside the ward—a neurologist i'd met perhaps twice before, but most recently (in passing) on wednesday. he'd seen bronwyn, and gave a rapid run-down of his opinion, supporting the viral meningitis hypothesis. he seemed to feel that the posture-related symptoms were related to the lumbar puncture (though i discussed that they preceded this) or perhaps just that they were not so important. he said we needed to wait for the final results of the tests, but that bronwyn should be able to be discharged home to be looked after. he accelerated away.

obviously the neurologist i correspond with had asked his colleague to see bronwyn. it was good he'd made the trip down to see her—the walk longer than the visit... later conversations with colleagues confirmed this doctor as brilliant, a good diagnostician, and famously brisk.

later bronwyn received a visit from the registrar and a couple of junior doctors on the medical team. still no sign of bug? they announce they will keep her for the weekend, to finish her course of IV antibiotics. they noted she had been seen by the neurologist—bronwyn felt they might have sounded a little peeved that he had visited. “so I won't be having an MRI scan then?” the reply, “well, he's the expert."

i sit in my office, feeling a sense of gnawing disquiet. it is good to have a neurologist's opinion, i tell myself. we clinicians make rapid diagnoses, can assimilate the necessary signs and facts much faster than patients usually think; he simply didn't waste time for extra talking. if he doesn't think an MRI is even necessary, that's excellent—he must be confident of his benign diagnosis. i return to my reports. [gnawing.] i am unconvinced.

it is late in the day. i sit in a consulting room, door closed, engaged sign, working on the computer. a knock. come in? my colleague, and neurologist number one. a story rewinds.

returning from his afternoon off-site clinic, neurologist number one contacts bronwyn's physician. “oh", says the physician (one extrapolates) “she was seen this morning by dr. brisk.” neurologist number two knew nothing of my visit to his colleague, had simply been referred bronwyn by the physician already.

what is supposition, what is fact. inferences of motivations melt in the warm sun of irrefutable contradictory evidence. the medics were not peeved the neurologists were brought in: they called in the marines themselves. no death by friendly fire. no blue-on-blue today. is the MRI cancelled? this itself no longer sure. neurologist number one retreats to Communicate, on our behalf.

i wait his call, content to know that should it be required: the tail will wag the bug.

intracranial hypotension syndrome?

10:08pm. the paper i am holding in the previous entry's photo is Paldino, Mogilner, and Tenner (2003): Intracranial hypotension syndrome: a comprehensive review, from Neurosurgical Focus. they state, lest you be concerned, “Intracranial hypotension generally is considered to be a benign condition, and most cases resolve with conservative management."

when bronwyn met her medical consultant this afternoon, with a trail of about eight registrars and junior doctors, they gave her results on the lumbar puncture: they found elevated protein and some white cells in the CSF, but they hadn't found (in his words) “a bug” yet... no sign of bacteria, no sign of a virus yet... tests continue on the sample.

when he asked if we had any questions, bronwyn did not, but i did. i told him i'd been reflecting on the observation of the registrar that bronwyn's CSF pressure had been unusually low when they did the lumbar puncture. this had led me to think about bronwyn's other symptoms, including the fact that consistently from the outset her symptoms have acutely worsened with an upright posture, and significantly resolved as soon as she lies down, as well as some other symptoms. i (of course) noted it wasn't my field—i'm a clinical neuropsychologist, not a physician or neurologist—but said i'd been doing some reading overnight, and asked if he thought it was possible bronwyn might be suffering from intracranial hypotension syndrome? (this is a condition where the cerebrospinal fluid, the shock-absorber that supports your brain, is not doing its job correctly because it is not under sufficient pressure, basically because there is not enough of it.)

the consultant reported that the primary hypothesis was still viral meningitis, but (i think on the strength of our discussion) he has now ordered an MRI scan of her brain to provide further information. bronwyn is getting good followup. my guess is bronwyn will be in hospital for perhaps up to a week even at this point. as far as i can ascertain, management of both viral meningitis and IHS is frequently the same: pain relief, fluids, rest until you are better. however, unless a crystal-clear diagnosis is made my bet is the doctors will probably now prefer to keep an eye on her directly.

or, maybe...

8:18am. i've been thinking overnight about bronwyn's symptoms, and what the doctor observed during bronwyn's lumbar puncture yesterday. combined with some background knowledge, i've been doing a little reading. i now have an alternative idea about bronwyn's symptoms, rather than them indicating viral meningitis. if confirmed by the doctors today, it is a condition that would have a good outcome for bronwyn. consider this blog entry a mark in the sand. i'll keep you posted. and don't worry!

anyway, the things to panic about are over here...

viral meningitis?

lest you fret, this would be good news, and is the most likely outcome. bronwyn had a CT scan of her brain this morning, and we received the results sometime after four pm from james, a competent specialist registrar. the contrast scan appeared to indicate that bronwyn had some inflammation, suggesting that she has an infection affecting her brain. however, many factors point against bacterial meningitis, which is the scary one everyone is warned about: she does not have photophobia, her neck is stiff and sore but not in a bacterial meningitis-way, she is not (significantly) confused, though she is a little groggy at times, her blood tests do not suggest any kind of bacterial infection, and finally, to be frank, [not for the easily anxious:] the length of her illness with a complete failure to display sudden death.

however, it is important now for the medics to make a positive and definitive diagnosis, in addition to ruling out things she does not have. therefore, at about 5:15pm they did a lumbar puncture. i will spare you the details, except to say that they use local anaesthetic which eliminates the vast majority of the pain, but that the procedure took longer than bronwyn would have liked. however, they finally obtained four clear samples (a grand total of 28 drops of precious CSF) which is definitely sufficient for all their tests and ensures they will not need to repeat the procedure.

in the end bronwyn found the insertion of a cannula into the veins in her left hand far more painful than the lumbar puncture. fortunately this has enabled her to be started on hospital-grade antibiotics (as a precaution to get a head-start should the viral hypothesis prove wrong) as well as a further anti-emetic injection. we hope this means she won't be vomiting any more.

bronwyn has managed to eat a full meal with my assistance and is having reasonable amounts of fluids (drink! drink! drink! —duncan). she is being kept in st george's again tonight. apart from anything else, if you don't lie flat for at least four hours after a lumbar puncture you reap one doozy of a headache, we hear. she's already got all the headache she needs.

we're expecting results in the morning and again are fairly confident that she'll be home tomorrow. treatment for viral meningitis is symptomatic only: there is no threat of harm or ongoing problems to be treated; it is simply a case of pain relief, preventing vomiting, and resting for as long as it takes to get better. she'll be able to do all of those at home. i'll be keeping her on a significantly shorter leash for the next little while though, and none of this off-to-school 'cause i feel fine business for quite some time.

i am doing fine, though it is of course nice to hear from you all though various means... thanks for your concerns and prayers.

30ld cancelled

to everyone who was coming, i'm sorry to report that 30ld, my birthday bbq planned for this saturday, is cancelled. though we hope bronwyn will be home from hospital today, clearly we let her dive back into things too quickly on monday. in the current circumstances it doesn't seem sensible to be thinking of having a (moderately) big event here on saturday.

if you had received an invite, it would be a help if you could either post a comment here or better send me an e-, just to let me know you've caught up with the news. could save me a few phone calls.

so, looks like i won't be turning 30 after all.  : )

home, but alone

there is much i could tell you, of an anniversary dinner last night where bronwyn ate the national animal of south africa and took two hours and forty-five minutes to notice i'd shaved off my beard (again).

however, all that matters right now is to tell you i am home, but alone. (though nick and hayley are here.) that's because while bronwyn started back at school yesterday, she hasn't been 100%. after she come home at lunchtime today, we saw a GP just after five, were at accident and emergency (again) an hour or so later, and bronwyn has now been admitted to st george's hospital overnight for observation.

she's had blood tests and a series of other tests already, and they all came back reassuring. the theory is still that it is a virus, which she has been fighting for the last 10 days now. clearly she went back to work too soon, and there is no question that she'll be off for the rest of this week at least. there are two weeks of the school year left from tomorrow, and we shall see if she makes any of this.

each evening, just before we go to sleep, bronwyn and i read the bible together. at the hospital tonight we didn't have a bible. however, bronwyn recited psalm 139 for us... that ancient song begins...

amen. your prayers are appreciated tonight.

seventy times seven

"how often shall i forgive?” the disciple asked jesus. “seven times?” the disciple thought they were being generous, perhaps. to tolerate the same insult, the same unfair rebuke, the same unacceptable behaviour seven times, and forgive. surely a good person. “seventy times seven” quips jesus... and no doubt then a few more.

to share your life with another is a joy and a responsibility. today, as we mark our seventh wedding anniversary, i recall the many times that bronwyn has forgiven me. no doubt often it has been for the same unreasonable behaviour that i have displayed before. i am glad she has chosen not to stop forgiving at seven. bronwyn returned to work today, but the last ten days that she has been ill have reminded me again that life is beautiful and fragile. maybe in our next year i will start to learn to find more joy in simplicity, more fulfilment in routine as well as in novelty. perhaps i will begin by acknowledging my addiction to mental stimulation. perhaps we will learn to be together more, and feel the need to do together less.

thank you bronwyn, my love, for our last seven years. and here's to sixty-nine times seven more, or so...

nick

happy birthday to housemate nick today. and how old is he? well, i'm turning 30 this saturday, and nick and i... we were in the same class at primary school together...  : )

life: be born, eat lunch, publish...

happy birthday to bronwyn's sister carolyn, who had a birthday today, over the other side of the world—another reminder of being far from home. while on the subject of birthdays, a belated hiphappy bday to michael, whose birthday was on friday... hope you both had good days.

it was great to have friends rob and catherine over from canberra, bringing a little bit of home to us, while they are here in london for a conference. bronwyn was back on her feet but not 100%, so we stayed in today and had lunch “at ours” (as they are wont to say over here). being as it was the last day of wimbledon, it was virtually compulsory to have strawberries and cream, though we made the latter greek yoghurt, for the sake of the future cost to the nhs.

i may have had an article accepted last week, but rob's a considerable few steps better. rob's pictured here with his new book, recently published with this first copy picked up here in london this week just gone. well done rob! something for me to aspire to, perhaps?

a year, a ton, a job still half done?

though it seems like at most 12 months, it has in fact been a whole year since the mondrian design was implemented on this site... so, with another july rolling around i figured it was time for a change. the previous colours were “inspired” by a standard blogger template, first seen on jonnybaker's blog and also it turns out used well-known on the award winning call centre confidential. my redesign is based on the principle that black (and white) is the new “black”...

as it turns out, this entry also marks the 100th blog entry since i implemented movable type, back in october last year. along with the other manually-created entries dating back to december 2002, in “blogging years” (thinking dog years here) i believe this counts as being finally out of adolescence.

5:28pm: right at this very moment, i'm working hard to upgrade the templates that produce the page, to support the new code... for the next half hour or so, things are going to look a little dicey round here!

9:13pm: half an hour. hah! done at last?