Monday, May 6, 2013

Rosemary's Ramblings for April 2013


On April 1st Janet and Johnny came to visit us for a week. It was good to have them with us. We did not plan on going anywhere, and they were content to sit around.  However we did have one excursion.  The day after they arrived, while Janet & Johnny were out for their run,  a fast-talking Samoan came to the house to see about cutting some branches off the horse-chestnut and silver birch trees.  This was his own idea.  He explained how the branches were dangerous, or would be dangerous if they fell during a high wind. He had called in before when “the boss” was not home, so I had refused to commit yea or nay.  I had subsequently forgotten about him. $1800, he said, guaranteed no damage, and all detritus removed.  I was astonished that Ray even heard him out, let alone agreed to the job, which was to begin immediately.  

Ray walked up town to get cash from the bank. It was that kind of deal. The man fetched “his boys” and they began work.  Janet & Johnny returned and were astonished at what Ray had done.  Johnny said he would have done the job for less!  J & J were having brunch when Ray came back with a young man, saying,  “Look what I have captured!”  We thought at first he was one of the tree “boys” and wondered why he had been captured.   Then we learned he was a hitch-hiker.  Then I saw his huge pack in the sitting room, and I was amazed at its size.  (It was a neat upright pack, and looked not overly laden when I later saw it on his back.)   The poor young man must have been sore amazed, brought in through the tree-cutting confusion outside, to our very small dining room which would have seemed crowded at first glance.  We all stood up to greet him, which would have made things more intimidating.   Furthermore, the tallest of us was a bald tattooed man of unknown nationality!

At first he did not want anything to eat, but later – perhaps a couple of hours later – I came in from catching up on some Indexing to find Janet feeding him toast, peanut butter and jam, which she and Johnny were also eating.  The young man was Peer van Duppen.  Where in Holland he came from I was not there to hear.  He was really talkative, and of course so was Johnny, with Ray bringing out the map and telling of his experiences in Holland “a hundred and fifty years ago”. Janet told me afterwards that Peer was a medical student, aged 22, going back to do a doctorate after his long OE.  Several months he was travelling, not just in New Zealand.

Peer was heading for Waitomo, where he had booked a tour for the morrow, caving, black-water rafting and abseiling.  He had come from Rotorua, and had been dropped in Putaruru by a rather dubious character who had at first promised to take him to Te Kuiti, then changed his mind and dumped him in Putaruru, on our street, from where, so the man had said, he could easily get a ride to Te Kuiti.  This was not true.  The Waitomo tour buses go past our house, but I guess not one in thousand private cars would be going to Waitomo and very few to Te Kuiti.  Ray volunteered to take him to Waitomo, but of course it would be in Janet's rental car, with Johnny driving!  We could not immediately get at either car, Janet's in front of the garage, or ours inside the garage, while the fellers' truck was in the driveway.  In any case, Ray would never leave the men at work.

When the tree cutters had left, we got moving and drove to Waitomo.  Having got Peer booked into Juno Hall Backpackers, we all returned to the highway and drove to Te Kuiti. We walked the length of the main street.   Janet was not impressed.  We walked over towards a redwood grove, which did not seem to be a public park, but looked enticing, even though dark and a bit grim.  Adjacent to it were two rows of housing for the elderly – next to a Kingdom Hall!  Within walking distance of the shops, seedy though they might be, and surely at a pinch walkable to the LDS chapel, surrounded by hills, I thought it might not be a bad place to end my days.  There could be flooding, in the basin of the hills, and Te Kuiti is reputedly a cold place in winter.   Then we drove back to Juno Hall and said quite fond farewells to Peer.  Our relative ages were interesting. Peer's mother is 51, which is Johnny's age. Janet remarked that she could be his mother.  Peer reminded me of William in many ways, his face, his voice – though not his accent – so could be taken for a son of Janet's.

The week after Janet and Johnny left, which was bad timing, Ray and I each had a medical experience in Hamilton.  We could have used a driver that week!  I had an appointment at Waikato Hospital to have a thing removed from my leg.  There was nothing alarming about that, but Ray hates driving into Hamilton and particularly hates finding a place to park near the hospital, so we did not look forward to it.  In desperation to find a place to park, Ray even brought himself to use the hospital carpark building, something which is against his principles, but it was full, so he had to drive out again and eventually found a place way down a side street.  Because the regular pedestrian path to main entrance was closed for repairs, we walked through a jungle of alleys and steps to get there.  In fact we wondered whether we would ever get there!  Fortunately coming out was okay, because Ray was instructed to drive right up to the doors where I was waiting in a wheelchair.

It is the next part that gets interesting.  Ray had long since been referred to the Eye Clinic in Hamilton, but had postponed the appointment.  Now he thought as we were in Hamilton he should check it out.  He subsequently had second thoughts but I quashed them, so we ventured to find our way with me in the back seat with my feet up, trying to give him directions.  I do not know quite how we got there, but we did, to the Bridgewater building, on Grantham Street.  We actually found a place to park too.  Ray went in and soon returned with the news that he could have his cataract operation the very next day!

So back we went the next day.  Ray had his examination in the morning, and his operation was scheduled for the afternoon.  There was no way I was going to let Ray drive home, so we found a motel, The Albert Court, across the river on Grey St.  The owner, David Gillingham, was just the most helpful person.  He drove us to the Clinic for operation, and told us to phone him to fetch us back afterwards.  He was solicitous for me too, offering to squeeze an armchair into our small unit.  I declined, as it was more comfortable anyway to sit on the bed with my legs up. 

The cataract operation took ages.  It was a good thing it was the last scheduled for the day.  The waiting room, where I had a Lazy Boy chair to sit in, was quite empty before Ray was wheeled in.  The nurse was most pleasant.  She came and told me not to worry, the operation was taking so long because it was a difficult one, but it was being successfully accomplished.  She tried to explain a few things in answer to my questions, and even went and got a print-out to explain something.  Whether the cataract was a thick one because it had been left so long, or whether it just happened that way, we do not know.  It seems there were complicating factors also.  Which meant a few fragments were left in the eye, and the eye had to have a stitch put in. 

The next morning Ray had to go back to have the eye-patch removed.  David drove us in. Ray  was disappointed that when the patch was removed he could not see at all well, not even as well as before the operation.  He was given a regimen of eye-drops, to be administered at different intervals throughout the day, and a prescription for tablets to be taken three times a day with meals.  I had to make a chart to make it easy to remember what to administer when!  We stayed another night at the motel.  Then Ray drove home, with me literally a back street navigator. 

When Ray had to go back for check-ups, he asked Keith Silva to drive him to Hamilton.  I did not want any more the lame guiding the blind type of driving!  So far he has been back twice, the first time to have the stitch taken out.  Even that was not successful. Ray can boast he has a stitch somewhere in his eyeball!  The second time the surgeon was pleased with the progress of the eye, and changed the medication to another set, but now we only put drops in four times a day, three different kinds!  Ray's sight is improving, we are glad to be able to report.

After all that, it is not surprising that we have nothing else to report!  And probably will have nothing at all to report for May.  At least, we hope nothing much to report.  Ray has at least one more appointment at the Eye Clinic, to which Keith will take him.

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