It's a Good Day

Firstly I apologise for the paucity of my posts. Some friends have become concerned and, despite emailing me, appear not to have had a response and have taken to communicating with one of my close Island friends. Many apologies to all to whom I have caused concern.

I woke up this morning. Therefore it is a Good Day. One day I won't and I will be really pissed off (Apologies for the vulgarity: translation "very upset".). I usually wake up and get up within a few minutes once I have confirmed that it is 'getting up time'. If it's not I turn over and return (or attempt to return) to the Land of Nod. By that I do not mean a biblical location where Cain was exiled after killing Abel, but my metaphorical term for sleep or dreamland.

Going back to the phrase "or attempt to return" I should say that there was a time when that was not only a certainty but it was also instant. Unfortunately I have discovered (and I know I'm not alone in this) that now I'm in my 80s sleep is nowhere near as automatic if one wakes up in the night. In theory the body must need just as much sleep as ever IF one expends as much energy during the day as ever. I am very fortunate in still being very active.

Sometimes I wake either in the morning or at random times during the night and I spent a good while thinking about Life, The Universe and Everything before possibly returning to sleep.

Today was a fairly typical day in that I went into town this morning and did odds and ends and met a friend for coffee. This afternoon I, and another friend, went to visit a mutual friend. I have known her since November 1974 when we both arrived on Lewis. 

I came to work with Comhairle nan Eilean (the local authority for the Western Isles) and Mutual Friend was married to a very close colleague. He has long since left the Island but Mutual Friend stayed and we are close and firm friends of over half a century. 

The Joys of Island Life - Another Flight Postponment

Don't get me wrong. I love living on The Isle of Lewis.  I have lived here for just over 50 years and if I didn't enjoy it I would have left long ago.  Of course if I suddenly after half a century decided that I didn't like it then that would just be hard luck. There's nothing I could do now that I'm in my 80s.  But I do love it, so no problem.......   most of the time.

Last Thursday evening I, and probably 40 others, were in the airport lounge waiting for the plane to Inverness to board.  It was sitting there temptingly. 

Then an announcement said that the flight was cancelled. .......... WHAT !

Inverness Airport - the principal airport for the Scottish Highlands  - had no lights...........WHAT !

How can an airport - especially a principal one - have no emergency backup lighting system?

It transpired as we all stood in the queue for our ticket refund or whatever, that there were quite a few of us going over for surgery or treatment on the following day (Friday). 

At least one or two like me had already had at least one postponement/cancellation. Because of my propensity to get sepsis I had already had dire warnings not to miss yet another appointment. 

On Friday they couldn't offer me a new date but hopefully I'll get one in the next few days. This time I'll make sure that I'm at least one flight in hand which means flying a day early and wasting a day in a hotel or hospital accommodation. 

O joy!

Before The Dawn

This morning's pre-sunrise view of the Scottish Mainland from my kitchen window.

Hospital.....again....or not!

I woke yesterday morning all prepared for the afternoon flight to Inverness and an evening in Raigmore Hospital's "accommodation block" called `Kyle Court  I had already thought up the blog post on the joys of 'Kyle Court',  hoping that I might eventually get a meal in the hospital (several hundred yards walk away across a gravel car park possibly in the pouring rain) and return to my room (not even with en-suite facilities) and, hopefully, sleep until this morning when my uretic stent was due to be replaced. 

However, early yesterday afternoon my cellphone rang. "Mr Edwards. where are you?"  Panic. Had I made a mistake? Was I supposed to be in hospital in Inverness having my operation? I answered that I was still at home just about to go to the airport for the afternoon flight to Inverness.  "Thank heaven for that!" was the reply. "Your operation has been postponed." It would appear that there was no theatre available because she then said that she would have to phone the surgeon (who was apparently not in Inverness) and tell her the operation had been postponed. 

I had already been told that it was important that the operation took place "on time" because of my "habit" of getting sepsis if the operation was delayed.  Not that long ago when the op was delayed I had to be flown on a Sunday afternoon by helicopter across The Minch to Inverness and have an operation the next morning before the infection really set in.   

So here I am a day later waiting for a new date when I should be resting after surgery and contemplating another 3 or 4 months before the next stent change, 

Ah well, c'est la vie. There is nothing I can do now but wait for the new appointment date.