Waking Dream – French GP – UK Charity Dream 18-10-2025 – Bodhicaryāvatāra

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Here is the dreaming sequence had yesterday and overnight. The purpose of this current visit is to ascertain if a move back to the UK feels right and/or is otherwise on the cards. The previous few dreams have not been auspicious in this context.

Yesterday we were driving back along a valley and “no through road” “road ahead closed” signs became apparent with no further information. It is the only “A” road route. The signage for diversion was late and the following signage poor, to understate. It was done in a shoddy manner. This contributed to us getting lost in a hive of tiny single track country roads.

During the night around 1 AM the fire alarm in the bedroom started bleeping on a regular basis. I opened a window to allow air circulation. At home this often corrects. The bleeping continued. So stark bollock naked I climbed with my spastic body on a chair to investigate. The detector was stuck to the ceiling with dual sided sticky tape and two screws which had not been rawl plugged into the ceiling. The detector came away in my hands. I went to the bathroom the both of us wide awake and light on. I unplugged the battery and the bleeping stopped. The workmanship was quick-fix shoddy rushed.

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A little later around 4:30 AM. Dreaming I find myself in the upstairs room of a village / town centre region in France. On the square outside I can see a church spire. The village square is cobbled. I do not know this village. In the waiting room next to the secretary a patient is waiting.  He is a man a little younger than me dressed in maroon cords and with a sleeveless puffer jacket. He has unruly curly hair around the circumference of male patterned baldness. He greets me in French with a great deal of warmth. He is a local big cheese. I have taken over as the village doctor, the village general practitioner. {GP}

I usher him into the office, and we discuss what ails him. He is after some more codeine for the pain in his knees. I know that the previous GP had been in the habit of dishing out drugs like sweeties. I ask him to get on the table for an examination. I flex and check his knees. Whilst I can hear some arthritic crunching the mobility is good. I say that we need to wean him of the opiates. He disagrees. I ask him if he remembers having a proper easy bowel movement. No. I say that this time I will prescribe him some codeine but the next time I will reduce the dosage. I open his cardboard covered dossier and look through we discuss in a mixture of French and English his posting to French Indochina and his time in the foreign legion.

Back in the waiting room / secretarial area the room is filling up with people to see the new GP. They are not all ill. It has a social function. The secretary gives me a glass of red wine, and the next patient comes with me for consultation. She too is a local big wig. She sits in my office and asks how much wine I drink. One glass a day I reply. I know in the dream that I do not drink at all. I am saying this because the wine was by way of a welcome. She then thanks me for taking up the position as GP for the village.

The scene changes and I am in a modern squashed in English new build two-bedroom house on the upstairs carpeted landing. A letter comes through the letterbox and lands on the doormat. It is a letter from a solicitor. I open the letter, and it is stating that I have inherited the chairman ship of an unspecified charity in Lerwick. I should travel there to take up post.

I make my way to a ferry port and get on a boat to cross to the islands. First, I have to descend in a lift to the disembarkation point. I get on the boat, and it is very low tide. Out of the window and in the caldera of a fountain which is where the boat is waiting, I can see large eels, ling and conger eels. They are congregating around the central fountain. There is no water. In my mind I note that I could come back here and throw a line should I wish to catch these eels / fish. Though I am unsure that I would wish so to do or why.

On board the boat is a member of the charity committee. He is advising me that there is a power struggle at the charity and as a non-islander there is both a chance that I could sort it out or a chance that I could further precipitate conflict. I am not overly keen on finding out which.

As I start to come to, I am reminded of two phrases, “perfidious Albion” and “may I be the doctor and the nurse”. The latter of which stems from Śāntideva’s so-called bodhisattva vows.

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With my palms clasped at my heart,
I urge all buddhas longing for nirvāṇa:
Do not leave us blind and all alone,
But remain with us for countless ages!

Through whatever virtue I have gained
By all these actions now performed,
May the pain of every living being
Be cleared away entirely, never to return.

For all the beings ailing in the world,
Until their sickness has been healed,
May I become the doctor and the cure,
And may I nurse them back to health.

Bodhicaryāvatāra: An Introduction to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life

by Śāntideva

The Shit Hits the Fan Dream 17-20-2025

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I could not think of a better title for this. This dream was hectic swirling and as such some of the detail {believe it or not} is scant of recall. Yet the feeling of something breaking through from the dreaming and under some kind of “pressure” so to do is strong. The feeling is of “out of my hands” and “beyond my control”. In the dream I am unconcerned by the “nascent” chaos, I am calm in the storm.

The dream opens on a large rural property in France. It is our property but not the current one. In the corner of the property by the gate and the house I note first a ship container like builders’ office. There are JCBs and assorted land moving machines. A canteen. There are piles of building materials like gravel and hardcore. There are bricks and beams. They do not have my permission to be there.

I go over to the cabin and demand to see the site manager. I ask him what the fuck he is doing there, what the fuck are they doing? He says that we thought you would like it. We are doing it for you.

I explain to him that he could not be more thoroughly mistaken. It is not what I want. It is not what I desire. They do not have my permission and that to try to imagine what I want is sheer fucking idiocy. I say that unless they start packing up soon, I will come back with my shotgun. Under no circumstance is their imagined plan a good idea nor what I want. It is a fucking mess.

I go off to the house and come back with an SLR camera and start taking photos of people and kit, collecting evidence. The site “manager” is on the ‘phone to his boss who subsequently turns up. He says that we thought you would like it and that the plans are too late to stop. I say to him that stop they will, or I will make an inordinate hoo-hah and a scene the likes of which they have never seen before. I am already transmitting images to the press and the mayor’s office. They send JCBs etc. to threaten the mayor’s office but I have forewarned the press and the local community who are waiting for them. The whole situation is escalating beyond their control. I have leaked the financial accounts from the building group and its parent company and searches into their propriety are under way. I say that I warned them not to do things without asking me thinking that it is “what I would want”. Thinking that they know what I would want. Thinking that I would accept it and be pleased. I say to them that they have no fucking idea and that this mess is just the beginning. The mess, the shit has started hitting the fan big time.

{Implicit is again and the language use is as recalled from the dream}.

The scene changes and I am arriving at a Cotswold stone library with stained glass arched church like windows. Outside the library are a several reporters with cameras and microphones. They have heard that I am coming and are waiting to ambush me. I walk through the crowd, and several people push microphones in front of me. I say that I will organise a more civilised conference and not a scrum. I’ll set up in the town hall so please to be patient.

Later in the town market hall there is a press conference. It turns out the reporters have been investigating every aspect of my life from my schooling, where I went to university and which universities I have taught at. They have been doing a deep dive investigation into my life. The implications for the institutions have been big. I don’t care overmuch because I have nothing to hide. The search has also been security service themed. They too have been doing a deep dive look. The institutions are in “trouble” from a PR perspective because they have been trying to clamp down and keep secret / quiet which has only encouraged a wider and deeper interest. “What are they trying to hide?” being a journalistic motivator. British academia in particular is under scrutiny. The journalists start by asking me about mundane aspects of my current life. The whole thing is chaotic and out of control. I am completely unfazed, the snowball effect has started.

The scene changes to a European possibly Swiss university. It becomes clear that this is in fact Bern. My former supervisor is putting on a laser and light festival for the town at Christmas. I warn him via his secretary about the ongoing investigation. He is unperturbed and asks if I would like to help him with the light show. I say it is a good idea; I would like to but probably best for the event if I stay away.

As I am coming to, I am slightly tired because of the hectic nature of the dream and unsurprised at the theme of other people thinking that they know what is best for me and what it is that I want. When as is always they case they have no fucking idea. The feeling is that something has now been started which must simply unfold. Chaos may be on the wind.

I wake up thinking along the lines of same shit different day.

Wrong Opinion – Boys Gang – Dream 16-10-2025

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I’ll preface this with a comment. There is a tendency in some circles to believe the opinion of someone simply because they hold positions of power {and presumed responsibility?}. This tendency is unwarranted. It is like asking Trump or RJK for a medical opinion and expecting an answer which does not come from some geezer they met down the golf club. What they say is the sort of thing that people gob off to each other about but has no scientific or factual basis. People do gob off to each other a lot.

This dream comes not long before we head back to France.

The dream starts. I am observing some kind of grouping of people / task force / inquiry asking around about me. They are asking various figures in English academia about me and trusting the answers they are getting. They speak to one let’s call him prof T. He is “senior” and perhaps known to government. T is suggesting that I am after power, positional power and influence. He is worried in case I somehow and mightily weirdly challenge his power base. Way back I remember that he considered me some kind of political threat in an academic context. He was out to undermine me. People are listening to him and buying the narrative that I am seeking power. In the dream I think that they are Garry Glitter- my gang – numpties. Nobody has any current knowledge of me and at best what they say is old, back from when they were trying to make it. They are in a weird time warp. It is an English power trip maya-illusion.

The scene changes and I am in some kind of academic setting. They want me to give a presentation on my Ph.D. thesis to an audience and in front of a panel “gang” of academics. They are behaving like a boy’s club and having low degree mutual pissing up the wall point scoring banter. I have not prepared; it is a long time ago but start to present some of the work from my thesis on hydrogen bonded molecular clusters. The idea being that under certain circumstance we might enable gas phase proton transfer in a system tractable for study at ab initio quantum chemical levels.  I quickly get into my stride and thought pattern As the talk progresses, they interject to show their cleverness. They are pre-emptive because the next steps in the talk answer the questions. They are trying to show off and put me down, in my place. I decide that this is silly so add a comedic part to my delivery which the audience enjoys and engages with. They are being pompous. I finish my talk. The audience are jocular and enjoying the comedy

Someone else is going into the room to present. I wish him luck. I note that he has not taken his overhead projector marker pens.

As I come to, I am reminded of how clubby and cliquey things can be, how those in the club think they “know” but are very mistaken in their jocular chumminess. Back slapping is not wisdom. ….plus ça change

The dream ends…

Shadow Dreaming Protocol Dream 15-10-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream. The first had in the Cotswolds. The first segment was before 3 AM the second after yet before 6.

The dream opens in a vast underground complex. It is somehow “top secret”. I am walking along with a British person who is “liaison”. He is younger than me and skilled at handling people. He is smooth and a little smarmy. We can see large vehicles driving off a main cavernous space which houses the project off to one side. The personnel are American military who are wearing light khaki-brown dress as opposed to battle fatigue army issue. There are some driving in open Jeep style vehicles.

He leads me off into a side tunnel which is much quieter, and we walk for quite a while. He says and I understand that this is the Dreaming project. Known as the Shadow Dreaming Protocol. It is an offset of military intelligence psi-ops. The project is currently well funded. He says that for the purposes of today’s meeting and ongoing I will have the assumed rank of colonel. This will enable me in the context of the project. We will be meeting our American counterparts in due course but first I must get cleared into the facility.

 I go for a loo break and some more painkiller.

Back in the dream. I am in an office which is well lit. It is in the UK. I am with a tall English woman with short hair and “horsey” mildly lesbian vibes. She is used to being obeyed and has an air of command about her. She knows of the Shadow Dreaming Protocol and wants me to get involved with the British arm. In the dream I have known for a long time that I will meet her. She says that I should think things over about how I will be involved, there is no “if” merely a how and in what way.

I leave the office and am now sat in front of a computer. I have received an email out-of-the-blue from Ian. In the email are links to two videos. I open them up and in the first one he is driving a small red antique Massey Fergusson tractor down a country street. In the second he is on an Eden Parc sit on mower with collecting bag. He is whizzing around. I think to myself to contact him back and say that I can’t match the tractor but can match the Eden Parc.

In the email there is attached correspondence between him and his uncle. I remember that Ian’s family circumstance was complex, and he did not know his father. His long-lost uncle has gotten in touch. The email chain below has some Russian Cyrillic and English Roman text. It too shares some of the theme of dreaming something which Ian has always been proficient in though unspoken about. I think to myself that it would be intrusive to email him back.

As I am coming to, I have a strong visual image of the woman from before together with Boris Johnson {of all people}.

I realise I will not yet go back to sleep so get up and type this.

A Glitch in the Matrix

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In the film “The Matrix” Neo sees a black cat walk across a hallway. The scene repeats its self a second or so later. The team understand that “they” have changed something in the matrix and that the agents are coming. Glitches in the observed space-time are indicators that the machines have changed the perceived world in the human battery stack.

One could rephrase that the flow of Dao has been perturbed and interrupted.

I have had numerous occasions when my assimilation of “how things are” has been turned head over heels. It can be very simple things which have interrupted the flow of Dao.

Earlier this week I had an appointment I made, cancelled by someone other than me. I doubt there was any malevolence, simply that I need to comply to method and process, to somebody else’s view of how things should be. I could not believe what was happening when I arrived for my appointment Monday morning having received a reminder text on Friday. “They” changed something without asking. Since then my dreaming has stopped, the flow has changed. The Dao has been perturbed and by a very simple seemingly harmless action. My course towards the future has been altered. It cannot be altered back. It remains to be seen if my dreaming returns or takes a break whilst I am carved and sliced.

During the night when I awoke as one dose of painkiller had worn off and before the next kicked in I was reminded of other glitches in the matrix. I noted that Monday was a glitch in the matrix. In one case I arrived at a ferry port expecting to be met and the other person had “forgotten”.  That rearranged things.

Another glitch in the matrix which was part of the most bizarre few days happened around a supposed job interview in Leuven. I had applied for a job concerning GaN semiconductor growth. As a part of my preparation for this I read up all the latest research and examined over a third of the company’s extensive patent portfolio. I was fully prepared for a technical interview. On arriving in town by car we could not find the hotel in the one way system. It took many iterations. This was a bad omen.

The next day I went to the interview. Because there was an incumbent in post I was ushered off to a secret location on site. I was “interviewed” by  several fairly senior people including the CTO and a vice president. None of whom had prepared. They gave me a PR bullshit presentation and did not ask much at all. I did not join in with the bullshit. The CTO and I did not gel in any way. The HR person was nice and gave me a pleasant probing interview. That night I had a dream with dolphins in…

The following day we drove back into Brussels. There was roadworks. I took a turn and it dumped us right in front of the Eurostar train station, as if by magic. The universe was saying get the hell out of dodge. Later walking around the train station there was a protest complete with large inflatable plastic dolphins. The HR lady called us when we were in the main tourist square to say I did not get the job.  By the time I got home I was discombobulated. “What the fuck has just happened!” It was a massive glitch in the matrix which lasted several days, an alternate reality seemingly overlaid. It was a disorganised mess and I dodged a bullet so to speak.

Around the same time I was interviewed for a space agency job to do LIDAR measurements from satellites. The “interview” lasted about half an hour. They were sat with name cards in a quasi-formal setting. Euro-fat-cats. I thought WTF again. Several months later whilst we were moving house in the snow I got a ‘phone call from Holland. It turns out they were offering me a very well paid tax free job. We went to sign contracts, look at houses etc. We had viewed the housing portfolio before and had our hearts set on one in central Leiden by the canal, which we could afford with the generous salary. Just as we were due to do a viewing we heard police sirens and the viewing was cancelled, for no obvious reason. “They” changed something. There were more warning police sirens. It turned out it was the outgoing director general’s rented house. Anyway I extricated myself from the contract subsequently and this kicked off a chain reaction of events. It was a glitch.

After each of these glitches in the matrix it takes several days or several weeks in which things get back to “normal”. Until a new flow of Dao starts.

The bottom line is that if something looks a bit too good to be true, it probably is. I will treat any untoward or unexpected with much more disbelief than I once did. I am heads up for any more incoming glitches.

Total Recall – Arnie Version

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The other night we watched the 35 year-old version of “Total Recall” starring Arnie. I have reached the age when all remakes cannot ever be better than the original.

Spoiler alert….

The gist of the plot is that Hauser has his mind adjusted so that he thinks he is Doug Quaid a builder and wielder of pneumatic tools, who then goes on a convoluted journey to infiltrate the underground resistance on Mars whilst trying to restore his memory. After Kuato the leader of the resistance is killed Quaid then refuses to be mind  wiped back so that he becomes once again the fascist special agent Hauser. There is a plot twist where which reality is real is tested. Quaid is led to believe that he has paid for a secret agent mind-trip at a company called Rekall. The Quaid/Hauser superposition is unsure. In the end the Quaid nice guy dominates and he sets off an alien machine to provide Mars with a breathable atmosphere.

–

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One scene suggests that the lowly manual worker Quaid is living out his fantasy as a Martian secret agent. It is all a bit far-fetched and the special effects, though leading at their time, now look a bit Blue Peter.

This is what co-pilot suggests for the above text.

“The plot follows Hauser, who is made to believe he is Doug Quaid, a builder on Mars. As Quaid, he becomes involved with the resistance, trying to regain his true identity. After the resistance leader Kuato is killed, Quaid refuses to revert to his former role as a ruthless agent. The story blurs reality and illusion, leaving Quaid uncertain whether his experiences are real or just a memory implant from Rekall. Ultimately, Quaid chooses his better nature and activates an alien device that gives Mars a breathable atmosphere.

One scene hints that Quaid’s life may just be a fantasy of being a secret agent. While the premise is a stretch, the once-impressive special effects now feel dated.”

AI has adjusted the reality…which is very considerate of it.

I guess we each choose our own narrative(s).

I have lost count how many dreams are in this blog. In the film Quaid is asked to consider if whatever he is experiencing is nothing more than a dream and therefore easily discounted.

With my feet grounded in everyday physical plane reality it is very simple to adopt the advice.

The everyday reality is simple enough. I can only rely on the measurable. Which tells me that around a dozen people read the blog according to WordPress stats. So were I to bin it only these would miss it. The basic reality is that I am a retired person with hip arthritis. Two decades ago I was a university teacher. {Assuming this is not a paid for implanted memory}. More recently I was a private tutor for ~6 years during which time I taught “A” level physics and chemistry. That is about it. I can still chop wood and do some gardening chores. My cooking skills are perhaps a little above average for savoury. The only “cakes” I ever made were hash cookies which were tasty and potent. Rocky was better than Leb, more chocolatey and unctuous…

In the circles I move in, life is very simple. On the cards is a visit to the hospital for a new hip. I will then be doing physio. Sometime around spring if we are not kicked out of France by the NF, I may be lucky enough to get a second operation after which I may eventually walk a bit better.

I am toying  with the idea of doing a blog / vlog about by incoming experience.

hip-hop-hip-op.fr and Bolshoi-hips.fr are currently available as is hippy-mchipface.fr

I’ll wager that such a blog would be more widely read…

I suspect that I could write something which is not dire, fearful and boring…perhaps when I was last at Rekall I purchased a mind-trip extension which includes delusions of creative writing capability…

Who can tell?

Planning and the Seventh Ray

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——————-

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I’ll kick this off with a quotation from  “Esoteric Psychology II – Chapter II – The Ray of Personality – The Coordination of the Personality” . By Alice Bailey and Djwahl Kuhl. My personality vehicle is seventh ray by predilection.

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Ray Seven

    ” ‘I seek to bring the two together. The plan is in my hands. How shall I work? Where lay the emphasis? In the far distance stands the One Who Is. Here at my hand is form, activity, substance, and desire. Can I relate these and fashion thus a form for God? Where shall I send my thought, my power the word that I can speak?

    ‘I, at the center, stand, the worker in the field of magic. I know some rules, some magical controls, some Words of Power, some forces which I can direct. What shall I do? Danger there is. The task that I have undertaken is not easy of accomplishment, yet I love power. I love to see the forms emerge, created by my mind, and do their work, fulfil the plan and disappear. I can create. The rituals of the Temple of the Lord are known to me. How shall I work?

  ‘Love not the work. Let love of God’s eternal Plan control your life, your mind, your hand, your eye. Work towards the unity of plan and purpose which must find its lasting place on earth. Work with the Plan; focus upon your share in that great work.’

    The word goes forth from soul to form: ‘Stand in the center of the pentagram, drawn upon that high place in the East within the light which ever shines. From that illumined center work. Leave not the pentagram. Stand steady in the midst. Then draw a line from that which is without to that which is within and see the Plan take form.’ “

It is not possible to be more explicit than this. This great and powerful ray is now coming into manifestation and it brings new energies to man of so potent a nature that the disciples of today must move and work with care. They are literally handling fire. It is the children who are now coming into incarnation who will eventually work more safely and more correctly with these new potencies. There is much, however, to be done in the meantime, and the disciples upon this seventh ray can ponder on this formula and seek their own interpretation of it, endeavoring first of all to stand in the East, within the protection of the pentagram. As he realizes the task to be carried out and the nature of the work to be done by the seventh ray worker, and appreciates the fact that it is the magical work of producing those forms on earth which will embody the spirit of God (and in our particular time, this necessitates the building of new forms), each seventh ray disciple will see himself as a relating agent, as the one who stands in the midst of the building processes, attending to his portion of the task. This, if really grasped and deeply considered will have the effect of producing alignment. The moment that this alignment is achieved, then let the disciple remember that it will mean a tremendous inflow of power, of energy from both the aligned points, from both directions, converging upon him, as he stands in the midway place. Ponder deeply upon this truth, for it is this fact which always evokes a seventh ray crisis. It will be obvious what this crisis is. If the man concerned is materially minded, selfishly ambitious and unloving, the inpouring energy will stimulate the personality nature and he will immediately be warring furiously with all that we mean by the instinctual, psychic, intellectual nature. When all these three are stimulated, the disciple is often for a time swung off the center into a maelstrom of magical work of the lower kind – sex magic and many forms of black magic. He is glamored by the beauty of his motive, and deceived by the acquired potency of his personality.

If, however, he is warned of the danger and aware of the possibility, he will stand steady at the center within the mystical pentagram, and there suffer until the light in the East rises upon his darkness, discovering him still at the midway point. Then comes the revelation of the Plan, for this has ever to be the motivating power of the seventh ray disciple. He works on earth, upon the outer plane of manifestation, with the construction of those forms through which the divine will can express itself. In the field of religion, he works in collaboration with the second and sixth ray disciples. In the field of government he labors, building those forms which will enable the first ray activity to be expressed. In the field of business, he cooperates with third ray energies and the executives of the Plan. In the field of science, he aids and assists the fifth ray workers. He is the expression of the builder, and the creator, bringing into outer manifestation God’s Plan. He begins, however, with himself, and seeks to bring into expression the plan of his soul in his own setting and worldly situation. Until he can do this, he is unable to stand in the East within the pentagram.

It is occultly said that “the pentagram is open and a place of danger when the disciple knows not order within his own life, and when the ritual of the soul is not imposed and its rhythm not obeyed. The pentagram is closed when order is restored and the ritual of the Master is imposed.” The writing goes on to say that “if the disciple enters through the open pentagram, he dies. If he passes over into the closed pentagram, he lives. If he transmutes the pentagram into a ring of fire, he serves the Plan.”

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The seventh ray, an incoming influence or mood, is often known as Synthesis in which things diverse are brought together in the cauldron of inspiration to synthesise something whole and new out of the wider parts. It is also known as the ray of ritual magic or ceremonial order. A good plan has mathematical grade beauty to it. Ritual magic can be used to bewitch the masses as Hitler knew in his mass events. Tripartite mantra chanted with gestures hypnotises and galvanises the herd.

I am in my element scoping out and planning. Or rather I was because that stage of life is seemingly now past. I enjoy writing business plans, putting together new courses, organising tutorial systems, bringing together artists and scientists to run courses, planning retreats and making up transferable skills courses.

Good plans are “bare bones” simple. Complexity and convolution is an anathema. Many think they are good at planning but create fat unwieldly complex “plans”. A good plan has no special cases or exceptions. A good plan is never seen in execution. It is evident by a simple execution. A good plan does not seem to be there at all. There is no one size fits all, a plan should be fit for purpose.

Certain organisational obesity is uncomfortable to me. Poor unwieldy plans can “fry my onions” if I am required to comply. In France there is a problem with the fiscal budget. One could easily save billions by cutting out some of the idiocy in the health care system. My GP had to use a card machine to charge me for my consultation yesterday. A waste of her time. Someone else will reimburse me ~90% of what I paid. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! What a waste. Fat and unnecessary.

This is one area, plans and planning, where I perhaps am alone. A good simple plan to me has an inherent beauty, a symmetry. I don’t often care if a plan is ever executed. I enjoy the planning. I used to like planning research grants. I was not keen on selling them to the big cheeses. I have followed the Delphic entreaty to know myself. I am not overly keen on socio-political ritual sniffing and arse licking. I do not do the social things necessary for longevity of team. My leadership style, such as it is, is best suited for short term endeavour. I would have been OK at short high stakes commando raids. But I would have needed time off between escapade.

The above slide is a second ray love-wisdom, seventh ray synthesis overview. One needs a second ray purpose executed by seventh ray means.

At the moment I am busy trying to scope out what, if anything, remains for me to do with the rest of this mundane sojourn. At the moment that scope is very limited and “nanna themed”. In that it seems, assuming I survive my upcoming operation, we will wait for the second operation and downsize sometime in 2026. It is not very complicated and that is about as far as the plan goes.

It is pretty bare bones…

Exhausted and Sighing

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Not long back from our fun filled and action packed day at the hospital. I am exhausted and sighing. If I had known we were going to have group presentations on diet and physiotherapy exercise I would have been less keen. I’ll speculate that I was not the target demographic.

All of the group were older than me and less apparently crippled.

Given I used to do courses on presentation skills…

It is difficult enough to be talked at in French. It is harder to listen when you are not overly interested. What struck me most was just how passive everyone was. No banter, no piss taking, no humour, no fun. I was  tempted but refrained. When I did the naughty boy speeding course the facilitator worked out that I was game for a laugh and did not mind having the piss taken, we made it more fun for everyone.

One of things we have learned here is if there is a single penny coin of the train tracks of the system it can derail the whole caboodle and that takes years to get going again.

There are a couple of appointments which are due for me, which I might not need. If I cancel these it frees them up for someone else. This would be good citizen thinking. This however could throw a spanner in the workings of the system juggernaut. I’ll take an opinion from the GP tomorrow.

An after lunch monotone in a foreign language ….difficult to keep attentive..

When we went I had two questions in mind.

  1. Do I need to take the pre-op iron tablets given a high ferritin level?
  2. Can we get a prescription for a medical bed for downstairs given a spiral staircase?

The answer to the first was no and the answer to the second was yes. This was as predicted.

I have learned two new things. One about using a second mattress and the other about a rubbish picker.

I have had my high resolution pre-op X-ray and the anaesthetist gave a verbal go ahead for general anaesthetic. From what they said I could be out in 48 hours or less.

From my perspective this did not need to take six hours. But systems are systems.

The take home message I got was that the French are very concerned as to when they are going to get to eat after the operation. It was mentioned several times.  It had not even occurred to me.

For me morphine is a pretty good appetite suppressor. So I doubt I’ll fancy a kebab or lamb vindaloo. I am not fussed about a Madeliene and a coffee.

The other take home for a “hermit” is that it is very tiring being around people for any length of time. Which suggests that limiting my exposure to others remains a good idea. That way I don’t upset people and piss them off. I don’t get tired from picking up their vibes. It sounds like a win-win.

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