Why Make Things So Difficult...?

I visited my mum in hospital yesterday where she is recovering after being assaulted in Spalding on Monday. She is at Boston's Pilgrim Hospital, a fair drive from where I live. I was pleasantly surprised by the car parking as this is normally notoriously difficult and stressful at any hospital. Instead, I was able to get parked quite close to the entrance without having to hunt for a vacant space.
The hospital is huge. It was my first time there, quite a feat given the number of years I have lived in Lincolnshire. It all seemed quite modern and organised.
However, what did strike me as very odd was the lifts and the extraordinary arrangement in place for calling a lift for a designated floor.

Instead of the traditional method of pressing an up or down button, you have to enter your required floor number on a panel. The panel then tells you which of the four lifts you should go and wait at. This actually resulted in huge queues whilst people waited for a lift for their designated floor. It should be noted that the lift will only stop at the floor requested and no other, as I found out when entering the first available lift.

Once inside the lift, there is no way of selecting the floor you need as it has been pre-programmed to stop at a specific floor from the panel in the foyer. As I had simply entered the lift assuming it would operate in the established fashion, I had to exit again to enter my floor selection and await my designated lift.
How utterly ridiculous! Surely this wins the award for the most pointless and complicated procedure? If I had difficulty understanding how it worked then anyone of elder years stands absolutely no chance. The numbers of people who have travelled up and down only to see the floor they want shoot past, must be in the hundreds if not thousands.
Why make something that should be simple and straightforward to use so unnecessarily complicated? Who's brilliant idea was this and has it won them a bonus or hospital management award? Just exactly what was the rationale for making the process of using a lift so difficult? We'll probably never know, but the lifts at Boston's Pilgrim Hospital most certainly win my 'Most Stupid Idea of the Year' Award.

Spalding, Lincolnshire's own Wild West

I've written before of my fear that Lincolnshire is becoming a lawless county. Indeed, my nearest town of Spalding has deteriorated so much that there is a petition by the local newspaper to rid the town of drugs and anti social behaviour. Many would consider my views about Spalding as rather harsh, but my criticism for the town and the people who police it is reinforced by the fact that my own mother was assaulted on Tuesday last. She had been waiting for a bus at Spalding Bus Station with my father after their regular shopping trip. A young woman was also at the stop yelling and swearing at someone on her mobile phone. Her language was foul and others in the queue had noticed and begun to keep their distance. My mother decided to speak to her and asked her to moderate her language as there were young children in the queue. The woman reacted violently and knocked my mother to the ground. Being nearly 70 years of age and quite frail, she stood no chance and fell to the ground breaking her pelvis. Thankfully there were many in the queue who had witnessed the assault and they held the woman until the police arrived. She has been arrested and she has been charged with assault. My mother is now in Boston's Pilgrim Hospital and it will be some time before she is back home and many months before she is able to walk unaided.

There is no doubt my mother had been in the right to confront the woman. No one should have to listen to someone's foul mouthed rants and the presence of children made it all the more appropriate to intervene. What is appalling is that someone would knock an elderly woman to the ground for what was in effect a minor request that frankly any of us would have made.
I'm thankful of all those who willingly provided witness statements and to the police who made my mother as comfortable as possible until the ambulance arrived.
The woman, for whom violence was her first reaction, now faces the prospect of a court appearance and a life labelled with a criminal record. I can only hope that the penalty, though likely to be light, will in some way change this woman's thinking and perhaps encourage her to better control her reactions in the future.

So, has my view of Spalding worsened as a result of my mother's assault? Yes I'm afraid it has. It is a natural reaction to being affected by what I see as a society out of control. Lincolnshire, is and always will be, a lawless county. It is difficult to police at the best of times, given its size and scattered population, but the reduction in government funding and reduced police numbers has allowed for areas such as Spalding to deteriorate to the point of being a 'Wild West' town that people now choose to avoid.
Besides the obvious physical harm caused, there will be more damaging mental harm which will be impossible to completely heal. I've no way of telling if and how my mother will be affected by this, but in some I know, such an experience can cause agoraphobia and paranoia.

It is so sad that Spalding has become the place it is. The warnings have been there for some time, but very little has been done to rid the town of alcohol fuelled violence, theft, drugs and gangs. Those charged with running the town need to wake up and realise the lasting damage that's being done.
Spalding was once the jewel in Lincolnshire's crown. Not any more.

Ups & Downs

I find myself feeling a little odd today. I should be busy but following the last week, I can't help feeling I should be due a rest. The last week has certainly had its ups and downs. The ups are certainly related to my volunteering work and having gained approval for a leaflet I've produced along with a poster for displaying in GP surgeries and waiting rooms. I've also come up with a name for our group, 'Blue Skies'. I didn't really spend very much time researching it, a few minutes on the Internet was all it took. Again, I have approval for this too and the group now feels more official and as having a formal identity.
I hadn't really set out to do all this myself. I have to be in a creative mood and last weekend I felt inspired to start work on a leaflet describing the group with a view to making it sound appealing for anyone interested in joining. I am aware of many groups dotted around the county who have done similar things and having seen their leaflets, I was convinced that we could do the same.
I need to do just a little more work on it before emailing it off to our volunteer services manager for final approval. I am rather hoping he will arrange for them to be printed.
So that's all been rather good. Our volunteer services manager did pay us all a visit on Thursday where he discussed with us funding and getting involved with a project run in Lincoln called ArtLinc. It just so happens that we have been looking at art & craft activities and this fits rather well. Added to this, we have two semi-professional artists within the group who could look after this. I have charged myself with setting up computer classes for anyone interested, and this will be my baby.
The week has certainly had its downs. Once again I have been pushed to the brink of despair by my bank, who knowing my situation have allowed me to pay a reduced contribution towards my mortgage. They called me to let me know that this arrangement had run out and that they were prepared to extend it until the end of November. They also made a point of reminding me of the arrears.
The whole thing just served to plunge me into a deep depressive low. At the time, I could see no way out, a reminder of how I used to feel and the desperation that would take me to some very dark places. Added to this, my accountant chose the worst possible time to remind me that my tax return was soon due meaning more expense as he does this for me. Although it is all zeros as I haven't received a penny all year, I still end up paying about £150 for the privilege of letting HMRC know!
I know that things with the bank look worse than they probably are and that I'll still be sat here typing my blog this time next year. Anxiety and depression make you see the worst of a situation. You worry about the worst possible outcome and despite being told that things will be different, you simply cannot see things that way. It is nothing less than a mind controlling illness, producing irrational fear and dread. For a non-sufferer, it is impossible to understand the mind of someone affected. I spend a lot of time with other people who encounter the illness on a near daily basis. I need not explain to them how I feel when the bank get in touch - they know. In a way, this is a comfort. I am not alone. They cannot help with my situation - the fact still remains that I cannot pay the bank what I owe them, well not right now anyway. Wait a few more years until I'm 55 and they can have every penny with interest, courtesy of my private pension.
It's this constant fear of the unknown that keeps me on this roller coaster of emotions. I cannot now see beyond November and I fear that we will spend Christmas with the prospect of losing our home in the new year. That is unless we are able to sort something out between now and then. There are certain 'rescue schemes' I have read about where the council can buy your home from you and you then pay a reduced rent to continue living in it. This might be an option if the worst comes to the worst.
It's the worry also. It's always there. It's the first thoughts that enter my head when I wake in the morning - the dire situation we're in and the guilt at having created and being responsible for the situation. This is the worst time of the day for me. The realisation that it's not all a dream, it's real.
I'm constantly told to focus on the good things, and to turn negatives into positives. Sometimes it's just easier said than done.

Time for a Rethink

The deaths yesterday of two unarmed British police officers in Greater Manchester has rekindled the debate over the arming of our police. British policing policy does not permit the routine arming of police and in such cases where firearms are required, then specially trained officers are called upon to assist. There will be debate in the coming weeks as to the events surrounding yesterday's tragedy, and now is certainly not the time to be doing this. Our thoughts and prayers should go to the family, friends, relatives and colleagues who will be suffering at this time.

I do think we have all had a stark reminder of how policing carries with it an enormous risk and to enter a situation where there are so many unknowns can leave police unprepared and ill equipped. 

The days of the friendly village 'bobby' have gone and we now, sadly, live in a very different age. Some would argue that the age we live in is more violent. The statistics certainly show that we do and one only has to look at the cases of knife crime and violent assault, especially amongst the young.

I do feel that serious thought needs to be given to policing and the ability of officers to tackle the threats we now see on our streets. This does mean looking again at arming police - not necessarily with deadly firearms, but perhaps with some type of stun gun or Taser. The technology is there, and has been for some time. 

For a long time, we have been proud in this country of our policy not to arm our police officers. But times have changed. Violent crime is increasing and it could be argued, in some parts of the country, that it is verging on being out of control. We only have to look at last year's riots and the ineffectual policing that allowed for so much damage and wilful destruction to occur. It really is time for a rethink and to face some difficult truths.

Is CBT the Answer...?

I've begun to understand what CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) is all about. The penny has dropped, as it were. I had my latest session yesterday. It had been three weeks since my last one and I had hoped that my therapist would have forgotten all she had asked me to do. There is a lot of homework with CBT, you are expected to record so much about how you are feeling and what you are doing. When you suffer with anxiety and depression it is often the last thing you want to do. It is just another thing to worry about.

I do wonder if CBT can be a solution. I've been asked to record things I worry about together with my thoughts and actions to better understand why I begin to worry in the first place and to look at the actions I need to take to reduce the worry. The whole thing sort of makes sense. I can see how worrying about the same things - specifically in my case, money and diabetes - often end up in a spiral starting with worry and anxiety and ending up in a depressive low. CBT teaches you to break the cycle, but is it that easy?

If I take yesterday, I received a text from the bank, a text I had been expecting and dreading, ironically whilst I was waiting for my CBT session. The text asked me to call them and I knew it was about the payment arrangement I have for the mortgage. The arrangement has come to the end of its agreed three month period. The anxiety and worry set in immediately, and I was able to use my CBT session to focus on this.  The solution apparently is to analyse why I worry and become anxious and how these reactions will affect the outcome. It's obvious that getting worried isn't going to solve anything and avoiding things will only lead to a worst outcome. I recognise all this. But I find it impossible not to worry. I owe money to the bank, which I don't have at the moment.

I understand what CBT does. I also understand that it isn't a cure, rather it helps to explain why I react in certain ways and to therefore reduce the impact of an event or something that causes distress. I have to ask if I think it is doing me any good. Probably not. I came home from my CBT session worrying that I had to call the bank. The response by the bank to my dilemma was not as good as I had hoped for. Specifically they are prepared to extend my payment arrangement until December after which I'm required to pay the full amount of £950 a month. I've managed to buy a little more time but having to plead with them yesterday took all my strength. Did CBT help me? The answer is definitely no, as I'm now worrying about the next phone call in December.

An Acceptable Risk...?

During the last visit to my diabetic clinic, I was asked to consider a new medication known as 'Victoza'. It is administered using an injection pen, once daily and it is known to work very well at lowering blood sugar levels and is also helpful in controlling weight.
I had for a long time been against any form of regular injection to help control my diabetes, viewing it as failure on my part. Having read the booklet I was given, it wasn't long before I was accepting the need for something more effective and seeing as I would need to inject just once a day, the idea began to gain favour with me.
As with all medication, I do like to do some research on the Internet to find out more about the tablets I take. I am particularly interested in finding out about how medicines are used in other countries and whether any adverse health risks resulting from taking them have been identified.

I have researched Victoza or Liraglutide as it is more commonly known and I have found a lot of information from various sources about its effectiveness in controlling blood sugar levels in Type 2 diabetics. This is good, but I have also found an alarming amount relating to the risk associated with thyroid cancer. It turns out that during tests on animals, an increase in the instances of thyroid cancers was detected. As a result, the medication in the US carries a 'Black Box' warning of the possible risk to humans of developing thyroid cancer. It is pointed out that the risk to humans has not been proved as no testing has been carried out and the medication hasn't been in use long enough for the results to be known. The FDA have however demanded that a 15 year study is undertaken amongst users of Victoza to detect any recorded increase in thyroid cancers.

Now, I worry about the slightest things, so you can imagine how this has me feeling at the moment. My relief at having been recommended a new medication to control my increasing blood sugar levels has now been replaced with a fear that, if the diabetes doesn't get me then thyroid cancer will. I know it sounds ridiculous but how much faith should I place in something that hasn't been properly tested? Should I take the medication knowing the risk, as the benefits outweigh the probability? It's very likely that should I develop thyroid cancers later on in life, no link would be made to my use of Victoza, and those that prescribed it would be long gone anyway, absolving themselves of any responsibility or blame.
I'm rather worried that when I visit my GP, he will claim to have no knowledge of the reported risks, and will look at me blankly when I raise it with him. He has done this before and it frustrates me immensely that I seem to be the only one prepared to do any research and to find out all I can about the tablets I put in me. I fear that the information I have discovered will again be dismissed as just rumour and speculation, but I am determined this time to press the point that a risk has been identified and that takers of Victoza are in effect live guinea pigs.
If I do consent to take the medication then I will insist that I am regularly tested for any abnormalities. I believe this is mandatory practise in other countries where Victoza has been approved, so it should be here in the UK.
Am I worrying needlessly? Most probably, but whilst there is sufficient concern, enough to warrant a FDA warning in the US then I can't help but be concerned.

A Marriage of Technologies

I stumbled upon this in the Daily Mail Sunday magazine. It's a USB typewriter and essentially allows you to use a normal typewriter to interact with a computer. I actually think it's a very clever idea, particularly as the functionality is there for the typewriter to be used normally if needed.

I've probably written before about my love for typewriters. As a child, I had several typewriters and pretty much taught myself how to spell and write by copying large amounts from books. I would look up words if I didn't know their meaning and soon became very adept at writing letters.
Whilst reading the article, my son glanced at the picture and asked me what it was. I explained it was a typewriter and that it printed letters onto paper by pressing the keys. I could tell he was instantly fascinated and enquired of my parents as to whether they still had the old Underwood typewriter I remember using as a child. It turns out they have and it is safe somewhere in their garage. I will one day let my son see it. He's a bit too young at the moment, as it is an original and quite delicate. I would though very much like for him to have his own typewriter. I am convinced the experience helped me with my use of words and I'm sure it would do the same for him.