Nothing to see here … and a big ‘Thank You’!

Well, firstly a big THANK YOU to both the staff at University Hospital, Lewisham for the excellence of their treatment and their second-to-none care and to all my regular blog readers who sent me best wishes. The latter was greatly appreciated and I have tried to personally acknowledge all the messages I have received.

So, what happened?

After a very disturbed night’s sleep (I was genuinely worried about what they might find), I awoke at 5.00am (!) on Friday 17th July and by 6.00am I had showered, taken my daily meds, and got dressed … and was waiting for my pre-booked mini-cab to arrive. It arrived bang on time, and by 6.15am we had travelled down Shooters Hill Road (the old Roman Watling Street), across Blackheath, through the centre of Lewisham, and towards Catford. The hospital is located in Ladywell, which is about halfway between Lewisham and Catford.

The entrance to the building where the day surgery takes place was closed, and a notice stated that the doors would be unlocked at 6.30am ... but they weren't until 7.00an, by which time people who had come via the main hospital building entrance were seated in the reception area. So, although I had arrived first, I was towards the back of the queue to be booked in. Luckily, the receptionist booked everyone in before anyone was allowed through to the treatment area/Day Ward waiting room. There we were called forward in the order in which our procedures were going to take place and not in the order we were booked in.

I was called through and shown into a cubicle in the Day Ward, where I was interviewed by the anaesthetist and then the surgeon before signing the consent form. This was followed by the usual tests – blood pressure, body temperature, body weight, height, urine, oxygen blood level, and heart rate – and then I was given a gown and a pair of disposable paper underpants. I changed ... and then waited … and waited … and waited.

Just after 11.30am, the anaesthetist escorted me to the theatre and a local anaesthetic was administered into my spinal area. This took effect very quickly, and by just before midday the procedure – a rigid cystoscopy – began.

The surgeon kindly arranged for me to watch everything on a monitor, and I was struck by the fact that as the cystoscope moved in and out of my body, the pictures of my urethrae, prostate, and  bladder entrance resembled images of planets, particularly Mars!

By 12.20pm my procedure was over and I had been removed to the Recovery Ward, where I underwent yet another set of tests – blood pressure, body temperature, oxygen blood level, and heart rate. Their only concern was my slow heart rate (it was around 60) but they decided that it was not something that needed further investigation. They regularly used a cold spray on the anaesthetised area to check if and when feeling began to return, and once that began, they moved me back to my cubicle in the Day Ward.

Once there, I was given a much-needed cup of tea and an egg mayo sandwich (the first food and drink I'd had since the previous night!) and waited until the feeling fully returned to my midriff and legs. Once it had, I managed to walk to the toilet and have a rather painful pee ... but as this was the last barrier I needed to pass before I could be allowed home, it was very welcome.

The hospital phoned Sue to tell her to come to collected me. She immediately ordered a taxi, and by 5.15am I had thanked all the staff in the Day Ward and walked to the hospital's main vehicle entrance to await the arrival of the taxi. I only had to wait a few minutes, and by 6.00pm I was sitting in my armchair having something cool to drink.

I now have to take things reasonably easy for a few days and to keep well hydrated. I know that having a pee is going to be painful, especially when I have to pass the inevitable blood clots ... but it is a small price to pay to be given an all-clear.

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I wrote this blog post on Friday evening, fully intending to upload it on Saturday, but when I awoke late on Saturday morning I was feeling extremely fatigued and decided to leave it for a day or two whilst I recovered, hence the delay.

Things are going to be quiet for a few days

I won’t be writing any blog posts for the next few days as I will be going into hospital today to have a minor operation on my prostate. (It was originally scheduled to take place in January and then in June but was postponed om both occasions for medical reasons.)

With luck, I will only be in for twenty-four to thirty-six hours ... and then I should be recovering in the comfort of my own home.

I should have been in hospital today

Over a year ago, I had a UTI (urinary tract infection) that required me to undertake a course of anti-biotics. My doctor felt that there might be an underlying cause that was related to my prostate cancer and referred me to the local hospital's urology department.

I was seen by the consultant urologist and as a result I had a flexible cystoscopy which showed that there were tiny nodules in my urinary tract and he felt that these could 'trap' the bacteria that can cause UTIs. I was therefore booked in to have them removed, and in early January I went to Blackheath Hospital for the procedure. However, the anaesthetist was unhappy that the hospital did not have an onsite ICU (Intensive Care Unit) or HDU (High Dependency Unit) and cancelled the operation minutes before I was due to go to theatre.

I have been waiting ever since to have the operation, and underwent a pre-op assessment in May ... but then heard nothing. This 'expired' a few weeks back, and I had another assessment earlier this month. This was followed up by an appointment to go to University Hospital Lewisham for the operation today.

So why am I not in hospital today?

The answer is simple; I came down with a heavy cold earlier this week and the anaesthetist thought that it would be foolhardy for me to be anaesthetised. I have been told that the operation should be rearranged for a date within the next month but I have yet to know when.

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I have written this very personal blog post becuase Blogger's statistics indicate that the majority of my regular blog readers are males who fall into the age group who are most likely to suffer from prostate cancer. I am sure that the majority of them are already being screened for this cancer as it is the most common one that afflicts men. However, there may be some who haven't been screened, and to them I direct the following thought:

'DONT THINK ABOUT IT! GET YOU PROSTATE SCREENED! IT COULD SAVE YOUR LIFE!'

I left my first test a bit too long, and ended up having to have chemotherapy and radiotherapy. I now have prostate cancer that will be with me for the rest of my life ... but thanks to my regular treatment, I'll die with the cancer and not from it!

My father's one hundredth birthday

If he had still been alive, today would have been my father's one-hundredth birthday.

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George Cyril Cordery was the eleventh child of Frederick Thomas Cordery and Eleanor Cordery (née Kemp) and was born on Monday 17th May 1926. This was five days after the end of the General Strike, a strike that his father was actively involved in as one of the leaders of the West Ham tram drivers.

The earliest known photograph of my father.

He passed his 11+ exam and attended what later became Stratford Grammar School, but his education was interrupted when the building was damaged by bombing during the London Blitz. He left school and began working as a clerk during the day and as a member of the Home Guard (and later the National Fire Service) during the evening and at weekends. (He and his brother Stanley joined the Home Guard in 1940, but George was kicked out when they discovered that he was only fourteen! He then joined the National Fire Service who seemed to be less worried about his age.)

My father as a young man.

He was called up for National Service when he was 18, and after initial training at the Durham Light Infantry Depot in Durham, he was sent to Woolwich for further training with the Royal Artillery. When they realised that he had studied trigonometry at school, he was trained as a battery surveyor and joined the Forward Observation Troop attached to the 53rd (Worcester Yeomanry) Airlanding Light Regiment, Royal Artillery. The regiment formed part of the 6th Airborne Division and he therefore took part in the Ardennes counter-offensive, the crossing of the Rhine (Operation Varsity), and the drive across Germany that ended up in Wismar on the coast of the Baltic.

My father in uniform. It is thought that this was taken just before he was posted to Burma.

My father at the Operation Varsity anniversary event at the Royal Artillery Museum, Woolwich. He was immensely proud of having served with the 6th Airborne Division.

Post-war, the 6th Airborne Division was sent Palestine, but rather than go to the Middle East, George was posted to Burma as part of the British Training Mission to Burma. There he became part of the team  tasked with training the Chin Hills Battalion to become the Burmese Army's anti-tank battalion.

During his time in Burma he was also involved in combatting dacoits (armed robbers) who were plaguing the border area with India as well as protecting the family of the assassinated leader of Burma, Aung San. He was also in Calcutta during the pre-independence riots, and took part in the armed suppression of those riots.

He returned home and was demobbed ... and very soon afterwards he married Kathleen Eva Jackson (my mother).

My mother and father on their wedding day.

Between 1950 and 1962 they had three children; myself, my younger brother, and our younger sister. They spent their first few years of married life in Sydenham and then Kenton before buying their forever home in Corbets Tey, Upminster in 1958.

He returned to office work, and trained to become a bookkeeper and later an accountant. After working for a large property company, his brother Charles suggested that he move over to the Alliance Assurance, an insurance company. Over the years this company became the Sun Alliance, the Sun Alliance & London, and then the Royal & Sun Alliance Group, and by the time of his retirement in 1990, he was a senior management accountant.

My mother and father at a family wedding.

Throughout his life, he was a keen supporter of West Ham United Football Club, and for many years he worked as a matchday stile man serving the North Bank of the Boleyn Ground, Upton Park. He was also a very keen gardener – something that he had learned from his father – and particularly enjoyed growing vegetables.

My mother and father in our conservatory. This was taken at New Year 2000.

My father during a visit to Marcus Street in the East End. He lived there whilst he was a child.

My father in the care home where he spent the last years of his life.

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I think that every member of my family – his children, his grandchildren, and his great grandchildren – wish that both my mother and father were alive today to celebrate his one hundredth birthday.

We dearly miss them.

Cutting one's coat according to one's cloth

Regular blog readers might find some of what follows covers things that I have previously written about on my blog, but for completeness – and to help me to clarify my own thinking – I have written about how I arrived at the situation I find myself in today.

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When I retired in 2014, I had visions of spending loads of time wargaming and doing wargame-related activities ... interspersed – of course – with going on cruises, doing the usual round of household chores, and fitting in all the other things that normal life demands.

In anticipation of this, during the early years of the new century we spent quite a lot on money converting our house's loft into an home office, a shower room, and what became my toy/wargame room, and for the first years on my retirement I was able to use the latter almost every day.

Then real life made itself felt. A simple test showed signs of blood in my faeces, and on investigation it was discovered that I had a small cancerous polyp in my intestines. At the height of the COVID-19 pandemic I went into hospital to have a minor keyhole surgical procedure to remove it. The operation did not go according to plan and I ended up with what turned out to be an irreversible colostomy.

Two years later, what I thought was a minor problem with my urinary system turned out to be prostate cancer ... and since then I've undergone chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and surgery. The cancer is still there, but it is under control and does not seem to be getting any worse.

Now, these two cancers rather took the wind out of my wargaming sails, but I carried on as best I could. I found things a bit more difficult as I was spending lots of time either undergoing treatment or tests, but what time I was able to devote to my hobby was very enjoyable ... and then I broke my right leg, just above the ankle.

I had been experiencing problems with my legs for many years, but by 2024 they had become very weak and climbing the stairs to my toy/wargame room was sometimes very difficult. On the evening of 10th April, I stood up from a living room chair in order to go to bed, and as I walked forward, my right leg gave way and my fall broke my leg.

What followed was nearly three weeks in hospital and then twenty-two weeks confined to bed at home. For the first sixteen weeks, my axonal polyneuropathy – the cause of my weakness – had left me unable to walk, let alone climb the stairs up to my toy/wargame room. At the time, the prognosis was that I would probably be confined to a wheelchair and not walk again, but thanks to the Royal Greenwich Reablement Team and six weeks of intensive physiotherapy was not only able to stand again on my own two legs – with the aid of a walking frame and walking sticks – but actually begin to learn how to climb up a flight of stairs.

Twenty-five weeks after I had broken my leg, we had a stairlift installed, and on 2nd October I was able to use it to go up to bed the first time in nearly six months ... and a visit to my toy/wargame room soon followed.

It soon became apparent that it was very unlikely that I was going to be able to fulfill my dreams of wargaming as much as I had hoped when I retired. Just getting upstairs – even using the stairlift – was tedious and very restricting. If I went up there, I felt marooned ... and if I didn't go up, I felt cheated of the enjoyment I get from wargaming. This dilemma has hung around every since, and every attempt I have made to find a solution has not exactly been a failure but has proved unsatisfactory.

This is where I now find myself ... and until I can find a workable solution, I cannot seem to make significant progress. This is not to say that things have been in a state of limbo; I've been working on my Belle Époque project and I've been gaming on a regular basis at Dice on the Hill. I've also been playing around with a new version of my PORTABLE WARGAME rules for use with my Belle Époque project and trying to devise a set of campaign maps for this project.

So, what do I need to do? I need to create a truly portable wargame that is light and small enough so that I can either bring downstairs and set it up on our dining table or that I can set up on the worktable in my toy/wargame room. I have the figures, I have the draft of a set of rules that might be suitable, and I have loads of Hexon II terrain ... but the latter is not as portable as I need.

I’ve been playing around with possible alternatives to the Hexon II … and I am giving serious consideration to using either a square gridded cloth or board. The choice of squares makes sense for several reasons:

• Late nineteenth century warfare tended to be linear in nature, and using a square grid reflects this.
• It is easy to mark up a cloth or board with a square grid.
• It harks back to games like Joseph Morschauser's FRONTIER and Dr. David Charles Ballinger Griffith’s POLEMOS.

At present I am looking at using 5cm x 5cm (2-inch x 2-inch) squares. I've used this size of grid square in the past (e.g. The Attack on Morobad) ...

The Attack on Morobad. It used a 12 x 12 grid of 5cm x 5cm (2-inch x 2-inch) squares on a sand-coloured felt cloth. The Great Wall of Morobad was homemade from wooden Jenga blocks mounted on 5cm x 5xm MDF squares and the palm trees were mounted on bases made from Fimo.

... and an 8 x 8 grid would be 40cm x 40cm (16-inches x 16-inches) and a 12 x 12 grid would be 60cm x 60cm (24-inches x 24-inches). Both of these would be ideal for my requirements.

Another advantage of using this size of grid square is that my existing Belle Époque collection is mounted on 4cm-wide MDF bases (Infantry on 4cm x 2cm, cavalry on 4cm x 3cm, and artillery on 4cm x 4cm bases) that fit inside this size of grid square. In addition, I will be able to mount terrain on 5cm x 5cm MDF squares (or multiples thereof), of which I have a plentiful supply.

This is the current state-of-play with regard to my plans to create a truly portable wargame that I can easily carry up and down stairs from my toy/wargame room or fit on my worktable. Now all I have to do is to get hold of a suitably-sized piece of felt material or board ... and then I can start being creative.

February has been an 'interesting' month

The last twenty-eight days have been a bit different from what passes for 'normal' these days. The reasons for this are as follows:

1. I celebrated my seventy-sixth birthday. (Yes, I am really that old!)
2. My blog achieved ten million hits ... and I see that it is close to reaching eleven million!
3. Sue's car needed to have its hybrid battery refurbished, and this required it to taken to Northampton and back.
4. It then developed a fault with its tyre pressure monitoring system which required new sensors to be fitted to each tyre ... and two new tyres as well!
5. Over the course of several days, we moved the contents of our large offsite storage unit to a much smaller one ... and I rediscovered all sorts of useful wargaming bits and pieces that I had forgotten about.
6. I delivered a talk about the history of the Royal Arsenal Co-operative Society (the RACS) to a local community group.
7. One of my favourite wargame manufacturers – Irregular Miniatures – announced that they were closing down and I had to send them what will be my final order in a bit of a hurry.
8. I achieved the goals I set myself at the beginning of the year.
9. I became embroiled in an ongoing 'discussion' with the Debt Collection Department of Royal Greenwich Council over care cost invoices from 2024 that I paid the day I received them! (I have proof in the form of screenshots of my bank statements and a letter from the Adult Care Department that said my case was closed and that all payments for care had been made.)
10. I have had two bouts of 'gastronomical illness', in quick succession, the second of which I am still recovering from ... and is the reason that I have not made any blog posts over the past few days.

That's quite a lot of things to deal with over the shortest month of the year! Hopefully, March will be a much quieter month!

A gastronomical illness?

gastro·nom·ical [ˌɡastrəˈnɒmɪ-kal]: adjective: relating to the practice of cooking or eating good food

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One of the YouTube channels that Sue and I follow are Don Terris's DON'S FAMILY VACATIONS and JUST DON. Don is a Canadian travel agent who specialises in cruises and his videos keep us up-to-date with what is happening in the world of cruising.

One of the endearing things about Don is his use of the word 'gastronomical' ... which he uses in place of 'gastrointestinal' when describing outbreaks of bugs like Norovirus aboard cruise ships.

So, why am I mentioning this today? The answer is simple ... for the past few days Sue and I have been suffering from what Don would describe as a 'gastronomical illness'. It is NOT Norovirus: I contracted that several times during my career in education and know the symptoms only too well. However, whatever it is, it has laid us both low and left us feeling very tired and with muscle and joint pain as well as a headache.

Now, when we were younger, we could sort of shrug this sort of illness off with a good night's sleep and a dose of something like Imodium, but as one ages, one's ability to do things like that diminishes. It also becomes even more important to keep hydrated and to replace any lost electrolytes in order to avoid things like thickening of the blood and therefore an increased risk of a stroke.

In my case, I have to take a number of prescription drugs every day to help me cope with my medical problems, and if I am suffering from a 'gastronomical illness' there is a chance that I might not manage to gain the full benefit of them.

We are beginning to feel somewhat better than we did twenty-four hours ago, and with luck it will turn out to have been no more than a forty-eight hour bug ... and that by the time you read this, we will be back on our feet and working on decluttering our house.

The operation that didn't happen

If I seem to have been a bit distracted of late, the reason is easily explained: For some months I have been waiting for a minor operation on my prostate.

I was diagnosed with prostate cancer March 2023, and since then I have undertaken a course of chemotherapy and radiotherapy as well as a TURP (Transurethral Resection of the Prostate). Last year I came down with a serious UTI (Urinary Tract Infection) that showed that I was experiencing a very small amount of bleeding in my prostate. This was investigated by a very senior urologist, and after conducting a flexible cystoscopy, he discovered that my urethra had tiny protuberances. (He insisted that I look at the images on the screen, and it looked like a cave with stalagmites and stalactites.)

He suggested that these protuberances should be removed to stop any future bleeding and booked me into the Blackheath Hospital (a local private hospital that undertakes some NHS work) to have a rigid cystoscopy. The appointed day for this procedure to take place was Thursday 15th January, but before this, I had to go to the hospital three times (Thursday 7th January, Friday 8th January, and Monday 12th January) for various tests and an anaesthetic review. These indicated that I was fit enough for the operation to proceed, and at 4.00pm on Thursday 15th January I arrived at the hospital by minicab and was booked in.

I was taken up to my room, and after a short wait a nurse visited me to take my blood pressure and a urine sample. She also gave me a gown to change into as well as compression stockings and bed socks to put on.

After she had left, I was visited by a member of the catering staff who went through the dinner and breakfast menus with me and took my orders for both. The urologist then came to see me, went through in considerable detail what the procedure entailed, and after I had checked the details, I signed the consent form.

I was then left on my own for about twenty minutes, during which I got changed ready for my operation. I was then visited by the anaesthetist (not the one who had conducted my anaesthetic review) who was – somewhat to my surprise – still dressed in her street clothes, including her coat and gloves. She quizzed me for some time about my previous experiences of being anaesthesia ... and then announced that she thought that she had better read my file!

She returned twenty minutes later – still dressed in her street clothes – and asked me another lot of questions. She seemed rather distracted and unhappy with some of my answers, and after about five minutes she excused herself and left.

Another thirty minutes passed ... and then the urologist returned and informed me that the anaesthetist had some reservations about the lack of an onsite ICU (Intensive Care Unit) or HDU (High Dependency Unit) and was not willing to allow the procedure to go ahead. He apologised for this, and made it very clear that he wasn't very happy with the anaesthetist's decision. He then told me that he would try to reschedule the operation but at another larger, local hospital.

Once he had left, I changed back into my clothes, phoned Sue with the news that I my operation was not taking place and that I was coming home, but before I left, my dinner arrived! As I hadn't eaten since breakfast and was very hungry, I ate it with gusto. I then collected my discharge form from the nursing station, handed into the reception desk as I left, and by 7.00pm I had taken a minicab home.

For reasons that I will not go into, I dread having anaesthesia, and ever since the date for this operation was set, I have been feeling increasingly stressed. This got worse as the day approached, and I barely slept during the night before. However, by the time that I had signed the consent form and got changed, I was calm and ready for the procedure to take place ... and then it didn't happen! By the time I got home, I was feeling alternately annoyed and relieved in the full knowledge that I am going to have to go through this all again in the future.

You are old, Father Bob

Back in July, I wrote a blog post about getting old … and recently I received an unsolicited email from a 'legal advisory service' asking if I had my personal matters in order (e.g. Will, Enduring Power of Attorney), and offering to 'help' me ... for a fee!

As it happens, these matters have been sorted out for some time, and Sue and I have no concerns in that department. However, one fact in the email stood out; the average life expectancy of a man like me who was born in 1950 is 87 years, with a 50% chance that I will reach that age (These figures were produced by the Office for National Statistics) and that I have a one-in-four chance of reaching the age of 92.

Almost five years ago, I was diagnosed with a cancerous polyp in my large intestine, and on 2nd December 2020 – at the height of the COVID pandemic – I had an operation to remove it. This left me with a stoma ... which has been an inconvenience but nothing more. Then – on 14th April 2022 – I was diagnosed as having prostate cancer, and on 19th of that month I began the treatment that was designed to halt its further growth and spread.

On 1st June 2022 I underwent a TURP (Transurethral resection of the prostate) at University Hospital Lewisham and was allowed home the next day. Since then, I had a course of chemotherapy drugs that lasted until earlier this year and – from September to the end of October 2023 – I underwent a course of radiotherapy directed at my prostate cancer and the nearby lymph glands.

Just as I thought that things might settle down to something approaching normality, I began to experience problems with my legs. This culminated with me falling over on 10th April 2024 and breaking my right leg just above the ankle. As a result, I spent nearly three weeks in hospital, followed by thirteen weeks confined to bed, during which I was diagnosed as having axonal polyneuropathy. Thanks to the local council's Reablement Team, I learned to walk again ... but my mobility is now permanently impaired and will not get better.

Seeing the email from the 'legal advisory service' and life expectancy prediction gave me rather a jolt ... and I have been doing a lot of thinking about my future, both in general and wargaming terms. I have not yet reached any serious conclusions, but the plans I made not long ago may well need to be reappraised.

Victory in Europe Day (V-E Day): Eighty years on

Today is the eightieth anniversary of Victory in Europe Day (V-E Day) and it is being marked by numerous ceremonies and celebrations across the UK. For many people, their impressions of V-E Day will be shaped by the photographs and newsreels of the celebrations that took place in London and many other cities, towns, and villages ...

... but my thoughts will be of the members of the armed services who were in Germany and the Far East, in the latter case, still fighting the Japanese.

Several members of my family fall into this category:

• My father, Sergeant George Cordery, who was serving with 6th Airborne Division and who had reached Wismar on the Baltic coast on 2nd May 1945. On 7th May 1945 British Field Marshal Montgomery and Soviet Marshal Konstantin Rokossovsky met in Wismar prior to the handover of the city to the Russians as it was going to be in the Russian Occupied Zone of Germany. Along with other members of his unit, my father celebrated V-E Day with a warm bottle of beer.
• My maternal grandfather, Regimental Sergeant-Major Arthur Jackson, who was serving aboard a troopship transporting Allied troops in the Indian Ocean.
• My father-in-law, Sergeant James Bayne, who was working as a cook in HQ South East Asia Command, New Delhi, having retrained after been seriously wounded whilst serving as a signaller during the Imphal and Kohima Campaign.
• My maternal uncle, Steward Peter Oram, who was aboard the aircraft carrier HMS Indefatigable, which formed part of the British Pacific Fleet.

I will be remembering them today, and celebrating their contributions to the eventual victories in Europe and the Far East.

Why I have not gone to SALUTE this year

After a great deal of thought – and not a little research – I decided this morning that I am not going to go to SALUTE this year. This might seem a little odd as the show takes place so close to where I live that I can see the venue (The ExCel Centre London) from the front drive of my house! What put me off going was both getting there and how I was going to get about once I was.

Public transport – which would have cost me nothing thanks to me Freedom Pass – was a non-starter due to my mobility problems. I have to use two walking sticks when walking around, and if I have to step up or down, I need substantial handrails ... and the distance I would have to step up or down to use the local single-decker buses is just a little too high for me to do with any degree of safety. Even if I had been able to take the bus to the local Elizabeth Line station in Woolwich – which is an accessible one – the distance I would have to walk from Customs House to the ExCel Centre along a crowded walkway would have taken me a long time and would have been very tiring.

Thanks to the Blackwall Tunnel and the newly opened Silvertown Tunnel, I could have driven to the ExCel Centre, and it was possible to reserve a Blue Badge parking spot. However, once there I would have had to walk everywhere using my walking sticks. I did look at booking a mobility scooter, but there were none left, and although there were wheelchairs available, I would have need someone to push me around. Sue did offer to do this, but I thought that she would have found it very physically draining.

I will miss meeting my many wargaming friends and fellow bloggers, but in the end I decided that the problems outweighed the benefits of going, so with a heavy heart I chose to give SALUTE a miss this year.

Achieving a goal: Attending my first Masonic meeting since April

When I began the therapy that was designed to improve my mobility, I was advised to set myself achievable but challenging goals. Amongst these were learning to walk with a frame, then with crutches, then with walking sticks, and finally without any support. So far I have managed the first three and can stagger a few steps without support around the house ... as long as there is something to grab hold of if I begin to feel a bit wobbly!

One goal that I set myself was to try to get to a meeting of my Mother Lodge, the Grove Park Lodge No.2732. I was unable to get to the first meeting of the Masonic year in October and it looked as if I was likely to miss the December one. Getting there by public transport was going to be very difficult due to the very variable accessibility of some of the railway stations I would have to use, and the taxi fare was going to be between £50.00 and £75.00 each way. Luckily, my recent appointment with a neurologist meant that I was deemed fit to drive again, and after a few trips out at the wheel of my car I felt confident to be able to get myself to and from Cheshunt, which is where my Lodge meets.

The reason why I wanted to go to this specific meeting was to celebrate what is a unique occasion, the presentation of a sixty-year certificate to the oldest and longest-serving member of the Lodge. What makes this award so unique is the fact that he has never, ever missed a Lodge meeting during those sixty years, and this is something that I’ve never heard of anyone else ever achieving.

The meeting took place on Monday, and I managed to go to it … and I had a wonderful time! It was challenging getting there due to heavy traffic and roadworks on the M25, and it took me much longer than I would have normally taken … but it was worth it! I received a wonderful welcome from the Brethren and I was able to individually thank them for the support they have given Sue and I during my recent health problems.

The presentation to our oldest member was done by the Deputy Provincial Grand Master, and he was accompanied by an official party that included the Provincial Grand Director of Ceremonies, the Provincial Grand Sword Bearer, the Provincial Grand Standard Bearer, and numerous other senior Hertfordshire Freemasons. In fact, there were so many of them that they almost outnumbered the membership of the Lodge! This is a mark of the respect and high regard the Father of the Lodge is held in, and I understand that his achievement of sixty years without missing a meeting is a national record.

‘We feel just as heavy as lead …’

On Monday afternoon Sue and I had our annual ‘flu jabs and COVID booster jabs … and on Tuesday we both felt under the weather. Neither of us seemed to have any energy or motivation to do anything, and Sue summed it as feeling as if our bodies just felt heavy.

Judging by what I’ve read on the Internet, the current ‘flu jab seems to have this as a common side effect and this feeling should pass in a couple of days. In the meantime, I’m trying to motivate myself to do my daily exercises and do some sorting out in my toy/wargameroom.

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The title of this post comes from the chorus of the song ‘Oh! What a Lovely War’.

Oh! Oh! Oh! it's a lovely war,
Who wouldn't be a soldier eh?
Oh! It's a shame to take the pay.
As soon as reveille is gone
We feel just as heavy as lead,
But we never get up till the sergeant brings
Our breakfast up to bed
Oh! Oh! Oh! it's a lovely war,
What do we want with eggs and ham
When we've got plum and apple jam?
Form fours! Right turn!
How shall we spend the money we earn?
Oh! Oh! Oh! it's a lovely war.

Taking a stroll …

My mobility has been gradually improving over the last fortnight, in no small part due to support by a therapy assistant from the Royal Borough Greenwich Community Rehabilitation and Short Term Assessment Team. They have encouraged me to try doing things that I was unsure that I’d still be able to do, and as a result I have learned how to get in and out of Sue’s car, and this has enabled me to get out and about.

They also provided me with a stroller so that I can use it to walk further and faster than I’ve been able to just using my walking stick. The stroller has four wheels, the front two being able to rotate so that it can be steered. It also has handbrakes and a seat so that if I feel tired, I can lock the brakes and sit down to rest and recuperate.

To date I’ve used the stroller twice to go up to the local postbox, which is some distance uphill from our house. Sue and I have also managed to get the stroller into the back of her car so that we could go to Charlton Park for a walk … followed by lunch in the cafe - Frilly’s - inside Charlton House.

With luck, using the stroller will help to improve my ability to walk as well as giving me the sort of exercise that will gradually improve my stamina.

When I look back at how far my mobility has improved over the past two months, I’ve gone from being a bed bound patient who had to be washed and dressed by carers and hoisted in and out of bed to someone who can get out of bed unaided, who can wash and dress themselves, and who can walk with the aid of a walking stick and a stroller.

One wonders how much better my mobility will be by Christmas.

Euphoria … tinged with the need for care

Yesterday I managed to spend over an hour in my toy/wargame room. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and even managed to get some of the stuff on my table sorted out and either thrown away or stored where it should be. Hopefully, by the end of the week I’ll be able to use my table to either run some trains on my rather neglected 009 model railway layout or get some figures out of their storage boxes and fight a battle with them … or even both!

I have – however – discovered a problem for which I need to find a simple but safe solution. I am currently using crutches to get around, and I’m even practicing walking with just one … but trying to pick something up whilst I am using them is proving to be far more difficult than I expected. I can stand unsupported for up to five minutes … but I cannot move without my crutches. I can twist around at my waist a bit, but I have to be careful how much as my sense of balance is not good.

The chair in my toy/wargame room does have castors, and I can – with some effort – move it so that I can sit down next to a cupboard or bookcase I want to put something into or take something out of … but standing up afterwards is difficult unless I have pushed the back of the chair up against something that won’t move. I have to use the arms of the chair to stand up … and if the chair can move, there’s a possibility that I will lose my balance and fall over.

I am having to learn a whole load of new ways to do what used to be simple tasks, and I know that this is going to take time … and probably longer than I would have hoped. Until I have a proper prognosis, I have no idea if I will ever stop having to use crutches to get about. As a result, I am taking things slowly – quite literally one step at a time on occasions – in the hope that I can learn the new skills I will need in order to live as normal a life as I can.

Twenty-five weeks

Yesterday, for the first time in twenty-five weeks, I managed to go up to the first and second floors of our house ... thanks to a newly-installed stairlift!

After getting quotes from the largest manufacturers of stairlifts in the UK, we eventually chose a model that would reach right to the top of our house on a single, continuous rail. It automatically charges its electric batteries and stops when it reaches the first floor landing, both going up and coming down. It then needs to be 'told' to either go up to the top floor or down to the ground floor, which it does faster than I was able to before I broke my leg! It even comes with remote controls so that it can be sent up or down without me having to sit on it.

I now have far more freedom than I had even just a week ago, and although it is still going to be some time before things return to anything like normal, the light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter and the distance to emerge seems to be getting shorter.

Dealing with the brick wall

After I wrote my recent blog post entitled HITTING A BRICK WALL, I have done a lot of thinking. One thing that I did was to read a blog post that I wrote back on 11th January this year. It was entitled A LONG, HARD THINK ABOUT MY FUTURE WARGAMING, and in some of the concluding paragraphs I wrote the following:

I have been mulling what my future wargaming priorities should be for some time. Until very recently I was still very undecided … and then I read an obituary about the late John Ruddle’s garden wargaming, and things began to fall into place.

In the obituary, the wargaming part of John’s garden was described as being L-shaped, with a long left-hand border that was split into Britain, France, Germany, Belgium, and Italy. At right-angles to this and across the bottom of the garden were sections that represented Africa and the Northwest Frontier of India. At the join of the two section was Turkey, and the lawn represented the oceans. My immediate reaction was ‘I’d love to do something like that, but my garden isn’t suitable.’ However, after some thought, I decided that an indoor version of something like it might be possible.

My current thinking is along the lines that I could create a terrain board for each of my Belle Époque imagi-nations using the game board/map from Waddington’s CAMPAIGN game as a guide. These terrain boards could be stored in my future wargame/toy room and be brought out and used as and when required. It would allow me to exercise my terrain modelling skills (something that I have recently rediscovered and that I really do enjoy!) and become the basis of an imaginary wargaming world where nations – both large and small – are constantly vying with each other.

I now realise that this might have been a bit too ambitious a project ... but I think that there is a kernel of a good idea in it. I don't think that I will have room to build and store a large number of terrain boards but I might have room for a number of home-made terrain cloths. Alternately, I might be able to find a way to use my Hexon II hex terrain system and my mini-campaign board.

This appears to run contrary to what I wrote so recently, but I can see no reason why I cannot buy a laptop with a bigger screen, and Sue has – within reason – agreed to get anything that I need for my toy/wargame room. This would remove the two things that are currently restricting the work on my Belle Époque project, and as my mobility improves, these restrictions should ease.

The brick wall is still there … but I’m finding ways to get around it.

Hitting a brick wall

I broke my left leg eighteen weeks ago ... and I have been striving to get better ever since. For months I was basically confined to my bed or a chair next to my bed, and it is only during the last fortnight that I have begun to get the sort of treatment that I need to regain my mobility. I can now stand (with assistance) and I have manged to walk a few steps using a Zimmer frame (which is also known as a walker or walking frame) to support me. I no longer need a hoist to get me in and out of bed and can do that myself (using the Zimmer frame) as long as I am supervised ... just in case I run into any difficulties.

All of this is very positive, and the fact that I now have a diagnosis of axonal polyneuropathy* in both my lower legs means that the physiotherapists can devise a programme of exercises that should help me regain more mobility in the future.

What has yet to be determined is the cause of the neuropathy. The most common causes are excessive, long-term alcohol consumption and diabetes ... but as I don't drink alcohol and blood tests show no sign that I have diabetes means that I will need further tests in the future to identify the reason why I have developed this condition. My fear is that it might be something that cannot be treated and reversed as this will mean that any mobility that I do regain might be restricted for the rest of my life.

During the past eighteen weeks I have been using my interest in wargaming to help keep me from falling into a state of despair. The old 'Black Dog' has been sniffing around quite a bit of late and there is only so much thinking and writing about wargaming that one can do before a state of ennui cuts in. I have now reached that stage and desperately feel the need to set up some terrain, get some figures on a tabletop, and play a wargame!

To date I have been very lucky in that I have had the support of my numerous wargaming friends and acquaintances, many of who have written me wonderful messages. Thanks to Zoom, I have even been able to observe at least one wargame and been involved in it at a distance. However, I can sense that my enthusiasm for arms-length wargaming is waning, and I really need to take a step back and reappraise my future wargaming projects.

I had already decided to concentrate my efforts on my Belle Époque project, but to do so I really need to have access to a better computer than the current, small 12-inch laptop that I am using as well as to the Belle Époque figures that are in my currently unreachable toy/wargame room. I need to find a way by which I can undertake further work on this project within my currently restricted circumstances. I have a couple of ideas ... but I need to think about them before committing to one of them.

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* According to online sources, axonal polyneuropathy is defined as follows:

Axonal polyneuropathy is a type of polyneuropathy, which is a systemic process that damages nerve cells, nerve fibres, and nerve coverings. It causes symptoms and signs related to axon loss, such as impaired sensation, muscle weakness, or pain. Axonal polyneuropathy can affect both large and small fibres, but small-fibre polyneuropathy can specifically interfere with the ability to feel pain or changes in temperature.

Those sources identify its main causes are:

• Nutritional deficiencies, most commonly of thiamine, vitamin B6, vitamin B12, or vitamin E, or from excess intake of vitamin B6 or alcohol.
• Metabolic diseases such as diabetes, kidney failure, connective tissue disease, deficiency syndromes such as malnutrition and alcoholism, or the effects of toxins or drugs such as chemotherapy.
• Nerve compression or injury.
• Hereditary diseases.
• Autoimmune conditions.

A busy few days

The last few days have been rather busy, hence my lack of blog posts.

Firstly, I have begun work on a YouTube video that will explain how I create my maps using MS Draw. (Other drawing programs are available ... but I'm a bit of a dinosaur who prefers to use a program that I have been utilising for years.) This is actually taking me more time that I expected as it will be a step-by-step guide ... but with a bit of luck, the methodology that I use will be understandable and transferable.

Secondly – and probably more importantly – I have been visited by a pair of Occupational Therapists who have assessed my current mobility situation and who are going to produce a plan that should help me to increase my mobility. They were very encouraging, and left me feeling that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

The test results.

Yesterday I underwent tests on my legs at the Neurophysiology Department of King’s College Hospital, Denmark Hill, London. I had expected that the results would not be communicated to me straight away, but the consultant was sure what the problem was, and told Sue and I that I was suffering from neuropathy (extreme nerve damage) in both my lower legs. He will be referring me to a neurologist for further investigations as to the cause, and that I will probably have to have several blood tests in order to help identify the exact reason for the onset of the neuropathy.

The most common cause is diabetes, but other causes include excessive alcohol drinking for many years, low levels of vitamin B12, physical damage to the nerves, an under-active thyroid, an adverse reaction to certain medicines, a number of infections, and certain types of cancer treatment. As I am almost tea-total, I suspect that the first tests will be to determine if I have diabetes, and if that isn’t identified as the cause, other tests will be undertaken to eliminate other potential reasons for my nerve damage.

Not good news … but it is a move forward in the quest to get me mobile again.