Health Care

I'm too sexy for my socks

Yesterday I had minor surgery to remove uterine fibroids (one the size of a golf ball), hopefully saving much future menstrual agony, and leading to this oh-so-sexy surgical-socks-and-painted-toenails combo. Him Indoors was unintentionally hilarious when he said, "You look like you've been in a period drama." My, how I laughed. But I sincerely hope my period drama is over.

It has taken me 35 years of nausea, cramps, excessive bleeding, low iron counts and a general lack of energy to have this taken seriously. I'm so glad it finally has been, and I hope that by talking more to our young women we can prevent them suffering the pain that we have tolerated because we've been told things like, 'that's just the price you pay for being a woman'. Let's not even start getting into the issue that medical practitioners might be less inclined to be so dismissive if it effected men. I'll get to that elsewhere. 

What I would like to acknowledge is how well the process was handled. From the admission staff to the nurses, doctors, wards-people, surgeons, and anaesthetists, everybody was efficient, understanding and compassionate. I am impressed and awed by the service and care I received. Of course, I have some pain now (as is only to be expected after things have been scraped away from my insides), but I have been given drugs to manage it with clear instructions, a follow-up call this morning, and a routine check-up in a few weeks' time. 

Scooter

While I was in the hospital, being hooked up to machines and having all my vital signs monitored, I was of course transported back to eight years ago today, when I lost my best friend to cancer. I still miss him every day, but, although my heart aches, I am able to think of him and smile rather than cry these days. I have so many memories of happy times, and also, obviously, sad ones as we saw him lose his sparkle. But even as his physical form was shrinking before our eyes, the palliative care he received was incredible. The kindness of the medical staff who managed his pain and saw him to the end of his life was humbling. They were wonderful to him, and to his family and friends, who visited him in hospital and stayed with him when there was nothing further that could be done, except let him leave with dignity. I thank them all.

In the UK, some people want to sell off the NHS. It is baffling beyond belief that anyone would actually choose a system like the one that exists in the U.S.A. A recent video released on the Common Dreams website shows the shock with which British people heard the costs of basic healthcare (childbirth; ambulance ride; asthma inhalers) across the Atlantic. I don't want to get political here, but, seriously, how could anyone with a conscience vote for a party that would allow this to happen? Healthcare should be not be optional; it should be available to all; and it should not be monetised. 

I know the NHS is a creaking organisation and one which desperately needs funding and a massive overhaul. I'm not ignorant - I realise that people are ageing and that medical procedures are becoming more expensive and more in demand. I understand that we can't continue the way we're going as the population continues to both age and increase. What we need is measured and considered discussion and respect. What we do not need is privatisation. 

And the people who care for us; the people who listen to our complaints and assuage our pain should be respected and rewarded - not penalised, underpaid or stressed beyond breaking point. They are literally (and I don't use that word lightly) our saviours. In fact, I'll finish with a quote from the late, great Jeremy Hardy, who also passed away this year, who had an enviably incisive way with words, and is also sorely missed.

Friday Five: Films on a Plane

On the very long flights to and from the U.K., I tend to read, write, and watch TV - I am useless at sleeping. Him Outdoors bought me a great pair of noise cancelling headphones (in Liverpool red), which are comfy and practical; who says he's not romantic? This time round, I used up most of the hours by binge watching a couple of TV series - Chernobyl (bleak but essential viewing) and Line of Duty Season 5 (I love the drama but the ending is frustrating). So I didn't watch as many films as usual, but I did watch some, and I wanted something relatively mindless after those heavy hitters.

5 films watched on a plane:

1. Crawl - a classic giant beastie horror film, low on budget (eight actors and a dog) but big in heart. The apex-predator alligators provide suitable thrills in the rising flood waters amid sympathetic fears of drowning and claustrophobia, while the father/ daughter reconciliation scenes are surprisingly touching. Yes, it's utter tosh, but it is fun.
2. Fighting with My Family - Based on the true story of professional WWE wrestler Paige, Stephen Merchant's tribute is charming and delightful. Florence Pugh is excellent as the girl who fights back, and the supporting cast (including Nick Frost and Dwayne Johnson) are well drawn. Like the sport it represents, the film is energetic and relentlessly up-beat. 
3. Late Night - Emma Thompson and Mindy Kaling star in Kaling's film about injecting some 'colour' into a tired late night TV show. It's fairly formulaic, as characters learn things about themselves through shared experiences that they really ought to have already known, but it is a light-hearted and easy-going approach to sexism and racism in the workplace, and that's a start. 
4. Old Boys - The Cyrano de Bergerac story is given an 1980s public school setting. The school's 'jock' Winchester (Jonah Hauer-King), requests assistance from the school 'nerd', Amberson (Alex Lawther) to woo the French Master's daughter, Agnes (Pauline Etienne) through a series of letters, mix tapes and scrappy video recordings. Director Toby MacDonald is probably more interested in the unlikely blossoming friendship between the boys than he is in the romance with the girl, but it's a chunk of nostalgia for correspondence in a pre-digital and self-branding age.
5. Yesterday - I suspect there is a direction correlation between one's enjoyment of this film and one's liking of The Beatles. I appreciate The Fab Four, but I've never been a fan. I'm not sure that if they came along now they would be as popular as they were then, as I believe their appeal lay in their difference rather than their talent. Written by Richard Curtis and directed by Danny Boyle, it seems a lot more of the former than the latter, but even the jokes aren't as funny as usual (the gag about there being no Oasis if there were no Beatles is about the sum of the laughs) and some of the dialogue is poor. The leads (Himesh Patel and Lily James) are perfectly fine, but there is absolutely no chemistry between them, and it's all just a bit ho hum until the end credits remind me just how much I dislike Hey Jude.

Innermost thoughts: Someone Like Me

Someone Like Me by M.R. Carey

Orbit

Pp. 500

In many ways this novel by M.R. Carey reminds me of those by Stephen King. It is rooted in reality with a strong dose of pop culture. The relationships seem true and sympathetic, with natural dialogue and some elements of humour. The concept of split personalities, or multiple characters in different dimensions, is a good one, and the supernatural elements creep in subtly. It would make a great film, with strong visuals and spooky scenes, but the ending is ultimately unsatisfactory and leaves the reader (or potential viewer) wondering how on earth they are ever going to get away with telling that story to the police.

 

It begins with a sadly familiar tale of domestic violence, as Liz Kendall is being strangled by her ex-husband, Marc. It appears that has another character inside her, Beth, who comes out after years of abuse to fight back. The abuse is documented as part of an on-going case: “That was a lot less exciting and TV-movie-forensic than it sounded.” The author is aware that this is commonplace and that we have seen it all before in modern culture, so he has to make it about more than ‘just’ domestic violence.

We sympathise with Liz; she is poor with two kids to raise (Zac and Molly), an abusive ex-husband and a terrible medical insurance policy. When she is first ousted by Beth, there may be sympathy for her too, as Beth has been repeatedly killed by Marc in different times and other realms. We feel for her absence and all the things she has missed, as she hugs Molly, “It was the first human contact Beth had experienced in what felt like a hundred years that wasn’t born out of violent rage.” But Beth will then use anything to survive, even at the expense of the children, and we begin to wonder about her motives.

Meanwhile, Zac’s schoolmate, Fran, is also one of these people who is aware of the multiple options of things happening in different futures or pasts, and she recognises the duality of Zac’s mum, Liz/Beth. When she was a child, Fran was abducted and taken to the Perry Friendly Motel by a man (Bruno Picota) who saw two personalities in her and tried to kill one. Throughout the trial that led to his incarceration in an asylum, he became known as the Shadowman because he constantly referred to shadows that move independently of their host or ‘skadegamutc’ from Native American culture. He describes this (in a transcript that Fran and Zac conveniently locate) as “the ghost of a witch. A ghost, but it’s got magic. An evil spirit. And you can’t ever see where it might have come from. You just see that it’s there.”

Skadegamutc or forest witch

Fran also has an alter-ego who is a cartoon fox with a sword and armour, Lady Jinx from Knights of the Woodland Table. Fran comes to understand that Picota was obsessed with split personalities or detached characters, who have been separated from the original. He thought he had killed one of hers. Did he?

As in Fellside, M.R. Carey takes us to a world of psychologists and criminals as he explores the dark places of the mind. Is this what happens to the brain when it tries to shield the body from pain, or to remove the memories of experiences that are too traumatic to confront? Are these supernatural elements based on self-delusion, or is medication involved? There is enough ambiguity to interest the reader as the novel crosses from the solid world we know to the less certain one we fear.

Like Stephen King, Carey incorporates Native American elements, pop culture references, ‘innocent’ children involved in violent and spooky situations, cinematic and comic book devices (he used to write comics for DC including Lucifer and Hellblazer), and a denouement at a creepy, deserted motel. The genre-crossing thriller ghost story is domestic in scope with science-fiction undertones, but there are sufficient similar themes to those found in Fellside, which I read earlier this year, that I don’t think I need to read any more of Carey’s novels for a while.

My Newest Favourite Thing: Yarralumla Gallery

This bijou gallery is set in Weston Park, Yarralumla. It has a charming cafe attached with a range of cakes and proper lunches. The outdoor setting is delightful under the trees with the nearby 'English Gardens' providing outdoor colour at the right time of year (particularly when the rhododendrons are in bloom). The paintings and pottery provide indoor colour all year round. 

When I called in, the exhibition featured three artists from Goulburn: Lesley Whitten, Marion Schumacher and Helen de Jonge. The theme was Feathers and Flotsam, and it is interesting to see that all the artists focus on a similar theme of birds, with different approaches to art. According to a Canberra Times article, "De Jonge loves Australian birds, Schumacher is a parrot fan and Whitten likes roosters." De Jonge is the artist of the wonderful watercolour kookaburra in the picture below, sitting pretty before the deep blue background. 

Lesley Whitten said of the theme, "There are lots of paintings of birds, but the ‘flotsam’ tag also allowed us to exhibit other ideas.” 

Three Pears from Ios by Lesley Whitten

Quince Quins by Lesley Whitten

Black-Headed Sheep by Lesley Whitten

As well, the three often produce striking landscapes and seascapes, reflecting their love of the Australian environment. Marion Schumacher's scenic landscapes in oils and acrylics are particularly striking, and I also enjoyed the fun implicit in her painting Aquarium (second picture down). 

Night Scene, Mittagong by Marion Schumacher

The gallery also featured a range of interesting ceramics and glass, with visions of strata and shapes suggesting geological designs. I also loved the curious flying horses. 

 

 

It's a genuinely lovely little gallery, and I will definitely be back to see another exhibition (and eat some more cake).

Making it Up: Today I Am A Book

Today I Am A Book by xTx

CCM Design

Pp. 117

All of the short, poetic segments (it feels wrong to call them stories, and, besides, they have the tart juiciness of an orange) in this collection are introduced with the words ‘Today I am a…’ It is a great creative writing exercise, and a way to express thoughts and feelings, but a lot of them are complicated and negative.

Many are tales of abuse, violence, sexuality and shame, with cripplingly low expectations; a woman goes to bed early because she wants to masturbate without her husband disturbing her; a woman seeks out compliments from a man she knows “isn’t good at saying nice things”; a woman desperately wants to hear the words ‘You are wanted’. In Today I am a Slave, the author writes, “Except for trying to kill me every day, Pepito is pretty nice. He’s definitely getting better at it though. Surprising me now, but I am vigilant. I don’t want to die and I don’t think he wants to kill me. Yet.”

Let’s get the question of authorship out of the way. Who is xTx, and does it matter? I assume the author is female, although some segments are written from a male point of view. The first page announces, “Today I am a dedication. Today, and everyday you are my driving force. Thank you, Roxane Gay, for making me believe. Still.” Many of the themes are similar to those found in Roxane Gay’s book Bad Feminist. For example, one harrowing piece reveals, “Today I am a bulimic. I take in the world. I throw it up. Do you want to see pain? Hold on for a minute. Just one minute. That’s all it takes for me to work it back up. Do you have patience? Are you a patient person? The one who waits the longest gets the best payoff. Please trust me.”

The narrator goes on to list the things she has swallowed; “An ongoing gorging since I was a girl: Frosted Flakes, a handful of bow shaped barrettes, twelve ice creams, seven fingers of my brothers’ friends inside me”. She explains, “The time it takes doesn’t matter. What matters is how you feel afterwards.” Her specific instructions of what to do are heartbreaking and visceral (don’t read them while you’re eating) from “1. Eat enough to make you feel sick and/ or hate yourself” through “4. Approach the toilet. Make sure it hasn’t been cleaned in a while. The filth will help you” and “7. Stare at the toilet water. Feel how gross you are, how utterly disgusting and worthless you are” until “11. After each hurl reach again. Keep fucking puking. Empty your fucking guts. Remember to breathe. Remember you are a big piece of shit.” That is absolutely raw and confronting; it is shocking and emotional; it is exceptional.

She is often the gateway for someone else’s needs or frustrations. In Today I Am A Time Machine she writes, “He has made me his time machine so he can stay there. He tells me this. He wants me to open myself wide enough that he can crawl through. Go back to the boy he once was… Back to when his life wasn’t as tarnished as it is now.” She is not often considered as a person in her own right but in how she relates to others and what they can take from her. In Today I Am A Lion she confirms “It’s hard being everything for everyone when you just want to be someone else’s everything.”

But women are expected to be all things to all people, and that is exhausting, even though we should be prepared for it. “It’s easy to be a make-up artist when you’re a female. So much of what we’re meant to be is pretend anyway.” As she continues in Today I Am A Make Up Artist, she can no longer tell tall tales and make up big stuff as an adult, so she has to “resort to little things like giving the guy at Starbucks a fake name just so I can see it black Sharpied on the cup… convincing my boss I am completely on top of things, assuring my two kids that everything will be okay, telling my husband I love him.” This story switches from comic to bleak in the twist of a sentence.

Her prose is sparse but full of imagery. The analogy in Today I Am An Outlier is breathtaking when considered more deeply: “My period blood is made for bigger things. It’s an important liquid made waste when not called upon. It’s like the genie from the lamp giving up and leaving, bags slung over shoulder, after eons of nobody rubbing.” And, like all good story-tellers, she returns to the beginning with Today I Am A Writer: “Today I am a writer. I say this thirty-three times while forcefully bashing my head into the metal keys of a typewriter. I want the answers to imprint my face. I want its ribbon to birth answers. Tell me what I need to say… All the blood mars any facial embossing and I am still sitting where I began – blank.”

There is a lot of style in these segments, but there is also deep substance. The stories that seem short and even superficial are full of meaning. Much of that meaning is grim and dark; this is an uncomfortable glimpse into a tormented mind that is trying very hard to make up.

A Helping Hand

Every day there seems to be a new alarming story about how the world is doomed and we are all going to die. (Actually, the planet will regenerate eventually; it's the Human Race that will have serious problems, but that's another issue.)

The latest is that even though we are recycling, we are not recycling hard enough. There is a tired story still doing the rounds of old folk (40+) getting fed up with young people (the 'we discovered everything' generation) telling them how to recycle. Recycling changes. In 'my day' we collected silver foil and milk bottle tops for the Blue Peter appeal for the Guide Dogs for the Blind. We sent it all into the studio BBC TV Centre, London W12 8QT (every British child of the 80s will remember that address by heart), and the program raised enough money to fund two guide dog puppies, and subsequently followed their training. I actually thought they were blind dogs, not dogs for the blind, and though I have nothing at all against blind humans, I was a little disappointed that my efforts did not go towards helping sightless canines. 

Much of the recycling that we put into our bins in Canberra and send to China is not recyclable. China sends it back, which leads to unnecessary pollutants, and it ends up in landfill anyway. China used to be the largest importer of the world's recycling, accepting over 30 million tonnes every year. Until a few years ago, China accepted recyclables with a contamination level of around 5% (contamination being incorrect items mixed in with the material to be recycled).  However, the National Sword Policy of January 2018 introduced a strict contamination limit of 0.5%, which meant that much of the world's recycling could not meet this new export standard.  

Not all plastic is accepted in recycle bins (only numbers 1, 2, 3, and 5 - the number is printed within a triangle on the container); neither is all glass (if it has been heat-treated; it is unacceptable. Yes, all glass is heat-treated, I would have thought, but...). Cardboard and paper are fine, but shredded paper is not. If you want to protect your identity, it will have to go to landfill; take your secrets to the grave, as it were. Anything smaller than a credit card should not be put into recycle bins - it ends up in the ocean and kills the turtles. 

There is also the issue of conflicting information: the ACT Government website states, 'Keeping recyclables clean is important to ensuring they can be processed effectively and are able to be sold in competitive markets. We need people to wipe, scrape or rinse out food and drink before placing containers in the recycling bin.' But, an ABC News article of February 2019 trumpets, 'As opposed to other places in Australia, you do not need to worry about rinsing bottles, jars or yoghurt containers in the ACT. There really are no excuses!'

But there is some good news in all of this. Those small plastic milk bottle tops that you can't put in the recycle bin, can be used to great effect. Envision Hands is a not-for-profit community initiative that uses 3D printing to turn plastic waste into mechanical hands and arms for kids, and those plastic bottle tops are perfect for the job. They are shredded and made into a filament, then fed through a 3D printer, and they turn into fingers. Okay, so I'm sure there's a lot more science to it than that, but the good news is that you can help by taking your (rinsed) bottle caps to a collection point. 

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag? No, Katy Perry, I don't. But thanks for asking.

Friday Five (Ten): Films from the First Half of the Year

This post is very late, I know. I could say I'm busy, but that's not really an excuse, because, isn't everyone? So, as we're meant to focus on positives rather than constantly criticising ourselves and others, let me just say, thanks for your understanding.

These are the top ten (bonus five) films that I have seen this year, so far, in alphabetical order.

1. Aurora - somewhat formulaic but fun Finnish romantic drama for a Friday night.
2. Bauhaus Spirit: 100 Years of Bauhaus - an interesting documentary that explains that the Bauhaus spirit is 'art is the implementation of the harmony between people and matter'. It considers people not in terms of their spirituality but as spacial objects. The movement has had a massive influence on art, design, fashion, architecture and urban planning. One could even say it has become a part of the zeitgeist.
3. Ben is Back - excellent central performances (Julia Roberts and Lucas Hedges) in a study of a mother's love for her son, no matter what.
4. Destroyer - I enjoyed it: the storytelling was good and the outcome was unexpected (by me, at least). Nicole Kidman does cold-dish-serving revenge very well. 





5. Free Solo - A documentary about a narcissistic free climber (bordering on psychopath), with a very unusual attitude to relationships, but a unarguable approach to risk vs reward. Shot by his friends (one wonders how he has any) with simply stunning scenery.
6. If Beale Street Could Talk - Quite simply beautiful; utterly life-affirming against all odds.
7. Mary Poppins Returns - This is odd. It's exactly the same as the original but the songs have different words. The story arc, the characters, the emotional manipulation and the scenes are almost identical, but with slight differences that make it feel like a dream. It's unsettling.
8. The Reports on Sarah and Saleem - "If the message of the film was “Having an affair is probably not a great idea”, its delivery could be perceived as being somewhat heavy-handed. It was bloody good though." - quoted from my CGB (Cinema-Going Buddy)
9. Rocketman - Excellent, moving, and honest depiction of addiction and loneliness despite fame and riches. I don't particularly like Elton John's music but it is spectacular in this film. The acting and direction is superb.
10. Us - Proper bonkers; gripping and good with stuff to think about and a few decent scares.