Growing herbs, growing cultures, growing waistline

Knowing my interest in growing things and in healthy eating, David gave me this very fancy herb garden for Christmas/birthday. Each day we marvel at the speed with which the herbs grow: mint, italian basil, dill, cilantro along the back row, parsley (yet to put in an appearance), purple basil, chives in front. Looking forward to trying out some of the suggested recipes.

At the weekend I decided I wanted to start making my own yoghurt again (it was something I used to do years ago). The first two batches failed. I was using Onken bio-pot natural yoghurt as a starter and wondered if the problem lay there, so yesterday I tried a teaspoon of Yeo Valley yoghurt as the starter, and left it well-wrapped up in tea towels overnight. Success!

Tonight Cell Group is meeting here, so this has been my excuse to make a batch of Chocolate Krispy cakes and a batch of lemon-iced gluten-free sponge drops. So much for the planned 'healthy eating' regime to get me back in shape! The gluten-free sponge drops were experimental, and absorbed in what I was doing, I missed an appointment with the psych - unusual for me. At the point I remembered it, and realised I was late, the phone rang. As I answered it, I accidentally pushed a button which cut off the call. Assuming it had been from the psych ringing to see why I hadn't turned up, I dialled her number and gave my apologies, and we re-scheduled the appointment. During the course of our conversation, I realised the phone call I had cut off hadn't been from her after all. I dialled 1471, listened long enough to hear the number of the last caller, then dialled it. Had I listened longer, I would have discovered that the last recorded number to call had been at 10.40 am. How the phone rang at 1.10 pm is a mystery. My favoured explanation is that it happened to get my attention.

Goodbye Spencer

Spencer was a lovely great softy, thoroughly enjoying having his tummy rubbed, as you can see from this photo. He settled in and had a lovely week with us, but having thought the answer to the fecal incontinence query hanging over him was the presence or absence of suitable shrubs, as the week progressed it became clear there was something else going on. When we picked him up, I'd noticed that his left eye was drooping a little, although this wasn't mentioned in his medical notes. Three days into his stay and the eye was drooping even further, after a night when he'd been fretful and unsettled. I mentioned it to the Fostering manager and she asked us to bring him back for a brain scan. We took him back on the Saturday, and today learned the sad news that the scan showed he'd had a stroke, and they hadn't wakened him from the anaesthetic.

Welcome Spencer!

Today, 5th January 2008, we greet a new short-term addition to the family. Spencer is a large, elderly male labrador. He weighs around 45 kg and was picked up as a stray by Battersea Dogs' Home, London, early in December. He is somewhere between 7 - 10 years old with a few health problems. The Dogs' Home has a foster programme and Spencer is our first assignment. I was offered a choice (sight unseen) between Spencer and Jasper (a labrador cross, aged between 6 and 12 months). Jasper sounded very cute but possibly quite a demanding handful.

We were told Spencer was 'very clean in his kennel', but outside appeared to suffer from fecal incontinence as he wasn't stopping to squat, simply walking on apparently unaware of what was happening at the other end. It wasn't clear whether this was a behavioural issue, related to the stress of being in kennels, or if there could be some other explanation.

He jumped into the back of the estate car without hesitation, allowed me to harness him in and settled down happily for the ride. Once home, I walked him straight through into the garden and let him off the lead. After cocking his leg a few times, he began combing the shrubbery for the right place to squat, finally backing his butt onto (yes, in contact with) a prickly young holly bush. It didn't look the most comfortable place, but evidently it met his requirements and he proved that given the right circumstances, he would take the time to pause and reflect on the moment. I praised him.

We brought him indoors and showed him his lovely new doggy-duvet (all equipment, food, toys, medicine etc. is provided by the Dogs' Home). He was so excited, he immediately dug in, ripped the duvet from its cover and tore a hole in it before we could convince him to give it up. He'd only been in the house a matter of minutes and feathers were flying already! Not a good start! We removed the luxury feather duvet from its cover, replacing it with some old blankets and towels and checked his response - one sniff and he dismissed it as of no further interest..

I sewed up the hole in the duvet to prevent any further feather-loss and hoovered up the feathers. At this point we had confined Spencer to the kitchen, but I opened the door into the lounge to check out his reaction. He walked in to inspect ... and promptly decided the house-plants needed watering. I told him "NO!" very firmly (don't want the maid becoming upset that he's taken over her job). I took him outside again and praised him each time he cocked his leg out there, then brought him back inside to try again. Same result - although he does respond to the "NO!". Back outside again, plenty of praise when he cocks his leg out there, then back in again - to sniff the houseplants and cock his leg yet again. Stubborn old boy. Yet he's fine in the kitchen - no houseplants there.

After we'd had lunch and Spencer had had a chance to settle in (confined to the kitchen), I took him out for a walk. Originally I was intending to walk over the allotment and back, to check out his stamina. However, by the time we'd gone a quarter of a mile I realised I might not have the stamina - it was proving quite strenuous work walking him as he was pulling with all his weight. I replotted the walk to around the block (about a mile). Then we came to a place where he began to look purposeful, sniffing the shrubbery with excitement. Once again he squatted right in the shrubbery, with a bush up his backside, and produced a diarrhoea dump. Fortunately it was quite easy to scoop it up in the bag I'd taken for the purpose and drop it into the doggy-poop bin further along our walk. Once he'd done his business, his pace did settle down and he was more inclined to walk alongside me on a loose lead, and acknowledged the praise with a waggy tail.

I think we may have solved the question about the fecal incontinence - the Dogs' Home has some outside dog runs where the dogs are exercised, but these are all tarmac with no greenery, and Spencer does seem to prefer to hide in the bushes to perform.

Talking Newspaper - barely a whisper

I felt privileged to be chosen to read for the Christmas edition of the local Talking Newspaper. All seemed to be going smoothly as we set up until the technician discovered the eject button was pushed right in on the recording deck. After some experimentation he discovered the tape drawer would automatically eject when he turned the power off, so we thought we were set to go and he did the sound level checks ... but then discovered that the recording sounded distorted. He changed the master tape and tried again ... same result. Both tapes had been folded in on themselves. He looked in the tape drawer and found that a cotton bud (used to clean the recording heads) had dropped down inside. No tools to remove it, but after much fiddling with a pen and a pair of scissors, he managed to wriggle it out. With a third master tape in the deck, we tried again .... same result! The tape was STILL being folded. He phoned the 'man in charge' - no reply. Meanwhile us girls were exploring and found an old tape deck so we got that out and set it up in place of the faulty one ... the technician was a bit concerned that he couldn't get adequate sound levels but we decided to try reading the first article and check to see if you could hear it. Sadly our Talking Newspaper was barely a whisper. Realising we'd run out of options, we packed up and went home early.

(I'm on the left in the photo, wearing the silly hat)

The Library Project

I mentioned previously some of the projects I'm involved in currently, but I didn't mention the fact that I've taken on the task of setting up a library for the Beacon church. It came about because a few months ago a couple of people chanced to mention a particular book to me, and recommend I read it. Whilst I'm not working I'm disinclined to spend too much on luxuries for myself as it doesn't seem fair on Vic. I asked to borrow the book - neither person could locate their copy and both recalled they had lent it to someone else but couldn't remember to whom. From this came the inspiration for the idea that it would be good to catalogue all the Christian books we've got at home on our bookshelves and have a central 'virtual library' with a system for requesting books and keeping track of where they were so that they eventually find their way back to their owner's bookshelf. It fits in with the principle of New Testament living of believers sharing their possessions (Acts 2:44). I put the idea forward, the leaders gave their blessing and a church member introduced me to 'LibraryThing' which seemed heaven-sent for the purpose! I sent off for a barcode scanner and was all set to go.

Originally I had intended that the books stay on people's bookshelves, but as it turned out, there were a number of books already at the Beacon building, including a large box of children's books. I was encouraged to bring them home and begin with cataloguing these. A wet Monday when I'd caught up with all the usual household tasks provided the ideal moment. I picked up the book on top of the pile of junior books …. and started reading it. It was so interesting, I read it from cover to cover … and by the time I'd finished, it was time to go and have a cup of tea with a new friend, June, from the allotments. Altogether a very pleasant day, although perhaps not quite as productive as I had intended. Oh well, to borrow a phrase, so it goes …

Endoscopy

I mentioned previously about a conversation I'd had with Phil where he spoke of people saying strange things in his presence, and me countering with the suggestion he could think about these things differently and then might feel differently. An example of just such an event happened whilst I was waiting for my appointment for gastro-intestinal endoscopy.

The appointment was for 8.30 am so Vic dropped me off punctually and I made my way to the department. The paperwork had warned that just because I was asked to get there for 8.30, it didn't mean I'd be seen at that time. I'd been told to eat nothing after my previous evening's meal, and to drink nothing after midnight. The waiting room was already almost full – only a couple of seats spare – as it became apparent that all the patients to be seen that morning had been asked to arrive at 8.30 am. After I sat down, a young woman (early 20's) came and sat next to me. We sat in silence and waited … and waited. There didn't seem to be much happening – occasionally a nurse would come and collect a patient, take them away for a few minutes and then escort them back (after going through the health questionnaire we'd been asked to complete and bring with us).

Eventually the young woman beside me went and spoke to the receptionist, then came and sat down again. After a while she said out loud "You selfish bitch!". Startled, I glanced at her. Momentarily I considered the statement and wondered if I was, indeed, a selfish bitch. It's a possibility I've considered before. Then the Counsellor in my head pointed out that the young lady was probably judging herself harshly because of her earlier action in going to the receptionist (presumably to try and get seen quicker). "I'm sure you're not" I reassured her with a smile, receiving a warm, grateful smile in return. Inwardly I was thankful to the loving spirit which had defused what could have been a painful event for me had I thought differently about it.

Sedation is routinely offered for this gastroscopy procedure, but I'm pleased to say I was able to elect to do without, feeling peaceful and calm despite the long wait. However, I did decide to offer some feedback to the Consultant and sent him a letter which I've posted here in case you wish to read it. In the letter I tried to keep in mind the principles a wise man once taught me regarding communication:

1) Is what I am about to say true?
2) Am I going to say it in such a way that will build up and not tear down? This could relate to a situation or a person. (So often the language we use can be very destructive, and indeed the very way we use it helps create the 'meaning ' of what is going on).
3) If I am speaking about another person who is not present, would I be willing to say it in their presence?

Here is the feedback letter I wrote to the Consultant:


GASTROSCOPY PROCEDURE – 20TH September - FEEDBACK

In these days when everyone is looking for ways to improve the service provided, I hope you will find the following feedback useful.

I received an appointment pack inviting me to come for GI endoscopy on Thursday 20th September. This was very prompt (only a month since my GP requested an appointment).

The information received was very helpful, informative and easy to understand. The paperwork included a proforma to return within 5 days in acceptance of the appointment. There was no return envelope provided. [Comment: On the one hand, I can see this is a good idea in terms of saving hospital money that can be better spent elsewhere – for each patient to fund his/her own return envelope + postage is a minimal outlay – and if it is a policy decision then it would be good to include on the proforma a paragraph to explain this and make it clear that it is the patient's responsibility to provide the envelope. On the other hand, I contrast this with the appointment I received to attend for a barium swallow x-ray in August – where a simple telephone call was all that was required to confirm acceptance of the appointment.]

I arrived at 8.30 am on the 20th as per instructions and was invited to take a seat in an almost full waiting room. I waited there for 3 hours, during which time a nurse went through the health questionnaire with me and labelled me. Then I was brought through to wait in the ward for another 10 minutes or so before you came to collect me and bring me in to the clinic.

Thank you and your staff who made the experience as painless as possible – everyone seemed confident and reassuring, warm, friendly and competent.

The time spent in the waiting room seems excessive. [Comment: You want your patients to be in a relaxed, calm state for the procedure and sitting for 3 hours or more in a room full of potentially anxious people with little to distract them may not be conducive to this. Could you learn from the x-ray department where a timed appointment was given?]

During the procedure, I gave a few loud belches. Each time you said, "I'm sorry, that was my fault". This makes it sound like you've done something wrong, which has caused the belches, but my guess is that the belches are a normal part of the process, and you offer that reassurance in order to put a patient at ease. May I suggest that another form of words, such as "Don't worry – that's normal" would reassure the patient without lodging the idea that you were making mistakes?

As I was being wheeled out of the clinic, you gave me a reassuring wink and it helped me smile and offer a sincere 'thank you'. I do indeed want to reiterate my thanks to you and your staff for all your hard work and for the standard of care provided.

Relapse: What went wrong? Retrospectively

Ok, so for nearly a year – certainly since my baptism last November, I have been happily living at home, managing the normal, everyday stuff along with managing the allotment and working with the Mental Health Links. So what was it triggered the relapse?

With Mental Health Links, I've been working on two projects: 1) to get a 'Sunshine & Showers' group launched in Surrey Heath; 2) to find the best way to further the Positive Spirituality in Promoting Mental Health agenda locally. Meanwhile I've been continuing to attend and enjoy Ballroom and Latin-American dance classes on a Monday evening, with my dance partner, Brian, and taking an active part in the life of the Beacon Church – both as a member of a Cell Group and as a member of the wider church. ('Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength and love your neighbour as you love yourself')

On September 1st, we had a barbecue here. It was a glorious day and seemed successful in every aspect – the people (family, my church friends and Vic's work colleagues) who came all enjoyed themselves (and I was complimented on having a gift for getting the 'right' people together). The food was good, there was plenty of it, the conversation flowed, etc., etc. Although beforehand there was a lot of hard work went into the preparation, on the day it all seemed to come together so easily there was no stress involved. Yet by the end of the day I felt the early warning symptoms of another relapse – a strange sense like a shadow coming over me, or of looking at my immediate family and feeling distanced, like an outsider looking in. Talk to anybody about this? No, like usual I thought if I carried on regardless, I'd get back on track. I THINK that I upped the medication to 100mg leading up to the barbecue, recognising that stress might cause a 'blip'. I'd been taking a low dose (50mg) of Quetiapine up until the 30th August. This much I know because I'd recorded it in a diary. But from Friday 31st August through to September 4th I didn't make a note of dosage. When I met up with the psychiatrist on August 30th for the regular review, I was doing fine. Dr P_ introduced a med. student, Barney, who would be with her for a few weeks. At one point, presumably feeling a need to explain why someone as apparently intelligent, normal and grounded as me was seeing her, she turned to Barney and said, "Trish was very disruptive to her family last year". I said nothing, merely smiling at him in a gentle way, as I thought I detected a trace of embarrassment in his eyes when he met mine. In the normal course of events, 'normal' adults aren't subjected to another adult speaking about them in a demeaning manner. But hey, it was true, after a fashion, so I shrugged inwardly and kept quiet.