Letter to my MP

When I voted in favour of leaving the EU I was clear about my reasons.

1. I do not believe the UK should have decisions made on its behalf by an unelected body when many of those decisions seem to be instances of bureaucracy gone mad.
2. I do not feel it is right for the UK to part with vast sums of money which we hand to the EU.
3. Uncontrolled immigration is crippling the country and the NHS in particular. We are full up and good farm land is being destroyed to build housing.

My vote does not imply that I hold racist views. Indeed we do need many of the highly skilled people who do splendid work; many of whom took part in my recent hospital treatment. Conversely, there are plenty of “white” people who I feel we could do without. No, it is all the illegal immigrants and work-shy individuals* we need to discourage (and prevent) from coming here.

My wish for my country is that we stop being “politically correct” and we allow citizens to express views without fear of being branded as backward-looking, or worse. These day it seems that to hold views contrary to the masses is practically illegal. (*Dare I say “Scroungers”?)

Unfortunately, there are many incorrect facts posted on a daily basis on social media such as Facebook. Yet, it does seem to me that we have become a namby-pamby country – too afraid of upsetting people of faiths other than Christian. Do we really house recently-arrived foreigners in luxury hotels when our ex-servicemen struggle to survive?

Whilst I have little to add to the Brexit debate which has not been said already I do hope that you and like-minded MPs will strive to do the following:

1. Oppose the Brexit deal which will see us under EU control with no say in our own affairs and 39 million pounds poorer.
2. Avoid taking your eyes off the current trend to support all things Halal giving scant regard to animal welfare and the notion of the RSPCA – do something about it.
3. Remember the sacrifices made by servicemen in two world wars in order that our country could be free and a haven for right-minded people. Do not allow Brexit to do what two world wars did not.
4. Oppose the gradual introduction of Sharia law by stealth.
5. Do all you can to stop this country being a stupid place because we do not wish to offend the “snowflake” generation.

You will obviously be very busy at this important time. Were I eloquent enough, I should be happy to meet you and discuss the issues which concern ordinary folk such as myself. Failing that, I cling on to my hope that you share similar values to myself and, therefore, I am ably represented in Parliament.

Thank you for reading this.

Brexit

I found this and I will simply leave it here without comment. It will probably annoy somebody.

Why children cannot sing high

Fashions change. When I was young it was common for children to sing in their treble register. These days children dislike trying to sing correctly and are afraid to be heard singing high. Boys do not wish to be compared to girls.

Sadly much of the music they hear is pitched far too low which is fine if an adult is singing. Female vocalists particularly - when they are not really singing very high (say the B above middle C) - SOUND as if they are whacking out a note from the top of their range. (Watch the video below when she gets to her highest note)

Well, partly, they are at the top BUT at the top of their chest voice which they are unable to take any higher. Singers like Adele, who may be genuine altos have some excuse and there is nothing wrong with a female singer having a song which falls within their range. It is sensible. However, many people (and I include school teachers) think young children should emulate the commercial sounds they hear.

Luckily there are enlightened school and plenty of girl choristers who sing high.

Just having a rant.

Sermons

I have been going to church ever since I can remember and sermons have been the bane of my life for nearly at least 55 years. Most I have heard are of little worth; a few have hit a nerve and/or made me think.

In general clergy feel they have a slot to fill and - by gum - they fill it with drivel. It is sometimes hard to follow their reasoning. Surely it all comes down to the same thing: "Try to be a better person".

We change with time

I am not the person I was years ago. I hit 60 in November. From the age of 1970 until 2005 I was mad on organ music and on playing the instrument. I gave my last serious recital early in 2005. I fill in, occasionally, on large(ish) organs now and again but I play an extremely small instrument weekly during term time and have no incentive to practise.

I was also a very keen bellringer from the age of 14 until a few months ago. Now I am just fed up and ring only now and again. I always wanted to learn more methods but ringers are not about (my area) who can ring them. There is a Surprise Royal at a town down the road 2 miles, and in the county vast amounts of Plain Bob Doubles is rung. You can get Cambridge minor but not a vast amount of surprise minor or major which is all I am happy ringing. I do not have enough 10-bell experience and see no need to gain it.

Ringing has let me down, I feel, although I have put plenty back. I fail to understand the need to teach people Stedman when towers are not going to be able to ring touches. As a branch it is all we seem to do. In short I am disillusioned.

When I was a boy I had a mis-spent youth around Peterborough. I would cycle to Woodston (Mon) Stanground (Tues) St. John's in town (Wed) St. Mary's in town (Thur) and often be taken to Yaxley on Fridays by the chap who taught me to ring; we are still very good friends. These days one has to drive some distance to ring every night, not that I have enough energy after school to do so. When I retire I shall be somewhat older and I already dislike going out on cold, dark nights.

I hate social occasions

Once again, at a drinks and nibbles "do", whilst a few people came to say "Hello" I found myself isolated. Everybody else was in groups of 3 or 4 and I was wondering where to stand and feeling like an idiot. You can hardly sidle up to group and latch on to their conversation. What does one do? I just left and I doubt anyone noticed.

What is more hurtful is that a chap I had emailed earlier to say "Chat this evening" didn't!

Perhaps I smell.

I Googled for an insight into this and found that - The last plausible explanation and answer to “Why do people ignore me?” is that many of the individuals you’ve met simply don’t match well with you in terms of values and interests. You’re not the kind of person they wanna be best friends with.

3 reasons I am sad for the UK

I am 60 this year. My father died aged 74 and my target is to live as long as he did. In another 14 years I wonder what the country will be like.

[1] I am already despondent about the issue of Halal meat. How does killing animals which have not been stunned make England a better nation? What is the point of the RSPCA?

[2] House building is another cause of concern. As far as I can see new houses are being built on what used to be prime farm land. Some will say we import more of our food these days. What happens when the (fossil) fuel runs out? How will we power our ships to bring food here?

[3] Town centres. People used to live in towns. Now people want to live out of towns - hence point 2 above. Town centres are dead because shops are moving out to superstores (also built on good land). Are town centres just places where night clubs thrive?

I am a little young to think like the character in the Barnum song "Thank God I'm Old" but it is getting that way.

Peterborough Cathedral

I attended two Evensongs at Peterborough Cathedral over the weekend as my daughter was singing with the visiting choir Luceat (which is mostly Oxford based).

I had reservations about hearing the organ after the pitch change but not too many new stops have been added according to NPOR so the marvellous sounds which comes from the Hill are essentially what I knew as a boy. The main difference is that there is no action noise (although that would have been sorted out in 1981) but I really did notice that I could hear no action noise at all during the services nor did I notice any thuds when pistons were pressed and the sliders moved (I assume they are still slider chests).

Luceat sang extremely well and I found the whole experience rather emotional; but what former chorister doesn't get a tingle when they hear the Howells Coll. Reg. "Gloria"?

The Sunday voluntary was Vierne's "Carillon de Westminster" which Andrew Newberry used to play, although, oddly, I never heard him do so. As the organ got louder and louder I could not help but recall how I had heard the grand sound of the organ at Andrew's hands going at full pelt. Of course it is probably louder at full tilt than he could achieve because it now has another Great Mixture and a second Tuba! Still, in my teens - when there were precious few pistons before the 1981 rebuild - I frequently had to respond to the call for "Clarion" (Swell) and "Ophicleide" (Pedal) neither of which came out on Andrew's piston settings and had to be drawn manually. My eyes watered briefly as a wallowed in nostalgia.

Today's organists seem far more skilled than was the case 40 years ago, but I am probably wrong: they have different skills. They can play the fast stuff but I was brought up to manage a large organ carefully and not to drown the choir. The Luceat organist was having fun and who could blame him? Had he been Dr Stanley Vann's Assistant Organist he would not have let rip quite so much.

Peterborough (Andrew said) is one of the few places where one can accompany the choir with Full Swell, as long as the box is not open too far. These days organists do open it rather more but, of course, they are accompanying adults not boy trebles.

So it was great to go back to my old stamping ground and to hear that church music is in safe hands in certain quarters.

Andrew, I miss you. R. I. P.

Here he is giving it some welly back in the day.

What are the men doing now?

When I was young there were no female priests and I knew of only a handful of female organists. These days there are far more female priests, and female organists seem to be everywhere. This begs the question, "What are the men - who would normally have taken these roles/jobs - doing now?"

Presumably fewer men are presenting themselves for ordination. Or if is just that more women are doing so then the best candidates for priestly training are taken from a bigger pool of candidates and the women are beating the men to the (fewer) available jobs.

I have to say that most women priests I have met do a good job and some of the men I have encountered are really quite 'wet' and, frankly, make my stomach churn. I am not suggesting they "bat for the other side" although I have worked with a few priest who are known to be gay. A few priests I know have a rather "Sunday School" manner about them which means they pitch what they say as if they were talking to children and they modulate their voice accordingly.

There are also not many decent organs within a radius of 10 miles around where I live and worship bands are increasing in number.

I am a dinosaur!

Trains

My bedroom is at the back of my house and a mainline railway runs just past at the bottom of the garden (see image). Now I like the trains so I have not considered this a problem. However, I have not been sleeping well, even if I have not been waking up a great deal (expect to visit the bathroom once a night). I decided to sleep in the spare room which is at the front. Last night I had a really good night and was chipper all morning today. By home time (8pm) I had had enough: I am clearly not as young as I was.

Fathers' Day

First of all I note that Google and Wikipedia have Father's Day - but I wonder if it should be Fathers' Day. Who cares, these days, when spelling on the internet is so dreadful?

I got up at 0635, was at work by 0755 and home again at 1402. I had a friend for lunch (which I'd put in the slow cooker). We washed up - I cut the lawn, watched some TV and had a snooze as I still get very tired in the afternoons.

My eldest daughter had sent me a Fathers' Day card and a present from Amazon which arrived last week: I opened them last week too. At 1931 I had a text to say she hoped I had had a good day. She has been travelling back form Kefalonia today where she had been with friends. She has had a very hard time this year what with one thing and another.

I had hoped she might phone me; I do not feel I can phone her a she will be tired. My younger daughter still lives with her mother from whom I am separated. We do not talk.

I am 60 in November. I don't feel I am any darn use to anybody. Nobody seems to listen to my opinions. What's the point of life?

Not feeling myself

Don't mess with me!

I am out of sorts today. Lots of little things I suppose and a general lack of sleep. I've been going to bed late and I have to get up at 0630 to get to school by 0745 each day.

I am associated with a small society about 50 minutes drive away (I shall not say which one) and I edit a Journal and do other membership tasks 'remotely' by email. I also need to buy stamps, envelopes and labels to post out the Journal, which I pay for and claim back. I have received no payment after a month. Thus I have emailed the committee to say I shall not do any further work for the society until I am paid.

Perhaps I will feel better when I have written all my school reports.

Consultation and Insurance Claim

I went to Leicester Hospital for a follow up consultation today. Most of the skin graft has grown back over the area of my glans from which the original graft shrivelled up after a haematoma. I had some questions I wanted to ask and was expecting to be told I ought to have a further Dynamic Sentinel Node Biopsy investigation, as check.

As it turns out, my consultant was away giving a lecture somewhere so I saw a locum consultant. He was an extremely pleasant chap and told me what I nice tie I was wearing. Sadly he knew very little about my case and opened with "You've had an MRI". I explained that the MRI was days prior to my glansectomy. He checked that it looked OK and sent me on my way.

Next appointment is in September.

Also I have claimed on my Critical Health Insurance policy. There is not long for the policy to run so whatever I receive will be a small sum I expect. However, the consultant has not sent back the paperwork to the company so I phoned his secretary to find out why. Apparently my notes keep moving around the hospital and do not stay in one place long enough to allow the consultant time to complete the forms.

More progress and back to work

A few days ago I phoned the MacMillan Nurse (my point of contact with Leicester Hospital) to explain what was going on. She told me that this was quite common and that it would heal. I have a follow-up appointment on June 14th and it was not necessary to get me seen sooner than that. This put my mind at ease.

Since then, healing has gone much better and it is amazing how the body can regenerate itself. There is a way to go yet but I remain positive.

I went back to work on 25th May - a day before we broke up for half term. I didn't want to get back in the saddle on 4th June from 'cold'. Over half term I have written my Form 1 reports and sketched out lessons for a few weeks.

Once we get back I have several pupils taking music exams so I shall be busy catching up with them. Other peripatetic staff have taught them in my absence.

Progress and problems

As these blog posts are intended for anyone facing a glansectomy I felt it appropriate to show an image of the area of my leg from where the skin graft was taken. This was taken, at home, on the 17th May - my operation was on 1st. Thus I no longer had need of dressings, and healing was going well. The size of this is 4.5 cm x 9cm.

As I write on 28th May I have to say that I need to conatct the hospital tomorrow as the actual graft, which replaced my glans, has not been 100% successful. (My actual follow-up appointment is not for two weeks) I could see patches of darkened flesh when I left hospital and these eventually shrivelled up and peeled away. Underneath is a area covered with a yellow 'pus' like substance; it is not bleeding. I can see where the edge of the graft has taken but I do not think the flesh will grow back where it has come away. I am talking of an area the size of a 5p piece.

This is all rather annoying but was always possible. I just hope they don't have to repeat the whole operation. I will let you know.

Glansectomy Update

I had my operation on 1st May. I arrived at 0715 an heard I was on first. At 0905 I was wheeled down to theatre and by 0920 I was out of it. I came round at 1315 in recovery to be told that the operation had lasted 2 and a half hours: I had absorbed quite a lot of anaesthetic (I discovered) which was why I was so tired for several days, but I was certainly not 'zonked' as used to be the case 25 years ago if I was put out. It turns out that they had had a tea break in the middle of the operation because somebody had not turned up to do the frozen section and needed to get in a taxi to get from the Leicester Royal Infirmary to the General Hospital.

I was on bed rest for 24 hours after which I could get about a little but was not anxious to go very far. This improved. I was in not pain at all from the operation itself. The skin graft donor site has been sore until now, on an doff, but this is normal and healing had gone well.

I was allowed home on Friday 4th and I took things gently. The catheter was removed in Friday 11th for which I drove myself to Leicester. I have been for some short walks down to the shops but I am not ready to go back to work; luckily I am signed off until 28th.

For anyone facing a glansectomy I hope all this has been reassuring. I keep saying "so far, so good" as I have not had the histology results yet. I suppose I feel oddly 'lucky' to have had surgery in the same area before. Possibly going from normality to the lack of a glans might be a sudden bodily change needing more adjustment.

It is amazing how the body heals and how the surgeon can repair things which have gone wrong. I am looking forward to getting on with my life - once I have had a bath!

(Not checked for typos)

MRI scan done

So, I had the required MRI scan today. I arrived at 10.10 and booked in. I was told my scan was at 10.40 (probably because I had to have an injection first) but they were running half an hour late. Anyway I changed and was shown to a chair in a drafty corridor. Having said that, the last time I had an MRI it was out in a 'mobile' facility in the car park and the changing arrangement were poor to say the least.

I waited ages and then the staff realised they had better offer me some explanation; I kept calm as it was not their fault. Then they suggested I come back another day as they were unable to get hold of a doctor to give me the injection. I pointed out that the scan was vital for my surgery on Tuesday 1st May.

I waited some more and a guy came to do the honours. I waited 10-15 minutes for the jab to take effect then went through and had the scan which seemed to last a long time. It was quite comfortable in the machine so I think I dozed off! I didn't have any headphone music on (I was asked) but was alone with my thoughts so I went through a course of Beverley in my head. After that I tried to pick out the harmonics in the loud buzzing sound from the machine.

I drove back to school, ate a sandwich I had bought on the way and had a normal afternoon.

MRI

I have an MRI scan tomorrow. I have had to phone the hospital three times to get the appointment. This is bizarre because I was told the surgery I am to have depended upon this scan. You'd think they would send out the time and date sooner.

Cancer Diagnosis

I have had a skin condition all my life (BXO) and have occasionally been warned that it can turn sinister.

Over the years I have had a lot of surgery to enable me to pass water efficiently and to remove 'unhappy' tissue. In the last couple of years I have had the following surgery:

• Initial Biopsy, revealing non-invasive cancerous node.
• Excision of cancer boundary.
• Dynamic sentinel lymph node biopsy (resulting in an infection which put me in hospital for 4 days followed by 2 weeks on injected anti-biotics)

Since then I have been under review and seeing a dermatologist as well as a urologist. Things have recently taken a turn for the worse and a further biopsy of a lump has been diagnosed (last Thursday) as G2 cancer.

I now face a glansectomy so I propose to put a few updates on here in case anyone stumbles across this blog.

Please note it is well after midday on April 1st - this is not a joke. In fact tomorrow (2nd) would be my 35th wedding anniversary. Now that I am separated I face this surgery more or less alone apart from friends who are supporting me.

I will be 60 towards the end of this year. My target is to reach 74, the age at which my father died; I shall then feel not too hard done by!