Casablanca?

Everyone (mis) remembers the film Casablanca for the line "Play it again Sam" which was never actually spoken. The actual lines were these:- 
"Play it once, Sam, for old times' sake, play 'As Time Goes By'." (Bergman)
"You played it for her, you can play it for me. ... If she can stand to listen to it, I can. Play it." (Bogart)

You must remember this
A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh.
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by

The words of the song seem particularly resonant to me as I sit down to write my ramblings today and I'll get to why in due course.

On the 28th of June I started to make some notes for this blog, intending them to become deathless prose mixed in with pithy observation, barbed wit and gentle self deprecation with an overall feeling of positivity (is that even a proper English word?) and I hope that some of that will still be true.

I am very lucky because, despite various delays and time-lags, I do have access to decent and free health care. I really don't want to keep whining on about my bad luck when other people - including some very beloved friends - are experiencing far worse than I am. Nevertheless, I don't like what epilepsy is doing to me and has already done to me and my family. Until April 17th, I thought epilepsy = fits = medication = no fits. I have learned much since then and the distillation of that learning is that it is a far more complex and much further reaching disorder that I had understood. It has led to foul moods, wildly exaggerated emotional responses to things - particularly music - that move me and the feeling that not only am I not me but that I don't really like the person that is me very much when he is lacking full self control. I worry terribly that shouting and stomping about when the shouter/stomper is 180cm and 91kg must be very scary for my lovely family. I wasn't expecting that to be a symptom of epileptic disorder but it's at its worst when pills are due and within 45 minutes of taking them I feel like "me" again. I really hope that the old chilled out Nigel will eventually return - I don't like the current one at all. I want to divorce him.

At least I know it is epilepsy and not something else because the anti-epileptic pills stop the aforementioned symptoms!!

The reason I started "blotting" (my word - blog+jotting) on June 28th was because that was the day of  "The Storm" in my little bit of England and I wanted to share it with you all. When it hit I was cycling - what a laugh! At a few points the flood water was so deep on the road that I couldn't actually see my pedals but I had to keep going. Falling off into a metre or so of water with a newly repaired and just collected watch in my panniers was not an option. However, when a van driver decided that he was going to steam past the line of stationary cars waiting at a flooded junction without considering that another vehicle (me) might be turning into it from the major road, an involuntary dismount was inevitable.... As a result of this "meeting of minds" I desperately want a good and non-epileptic rant in the Rhod Gilbert style, about van drivers... Should I? As cycling is now my most frequent means of transport I am beginning to refine my personal classification of other road users - at the top of the thoughtless list at the moment are Jaguar drivers, followed closely by vans and peroxide blondes in open top Mercedes.

All the rain reminds of dancing around in torrential downpours in the garden when I was a child. It's OK, we lived pretty well in the middle of nowhere...... Sadly, this habit didn't go down too well when I moved to Warwick though - posh there! And I was 24...

The Olympic torch relay came through on July 1st and my spirits were hugely lifted by the really fantastic atmosphere. I hope that these two snaps convey a little bit of how it was - this bit of home is usually completely empty at 9 on a Sunday morning!

 

Other things that have had me laughing and enjoying life since the last set of witterings have been a couple of pure gold comedy moments on the telly - Mrs Brown's Boys and Father Ted in one evening. Dear oh dear!!! And a spectacularly good "Mock The Week" on Friday. A response to a dirty phone call in "Mrs Brown" of  "if you can hold it in one hand, you can fecking keep it" had me in bits.

Oh - and I managed to silence a tele-marketeer for the first time ever like this:-
"Could I speak to Nigel Braithwaite please"
"Speaking"
"Hello. Would you like to pay less to heat your home? Well, with......"
"Sorry, can I interrupt you there? I'm afraid I don't have a phone"
"----------"
Click......

Sorry to those of you on Facebook who've already seen this but I enjoyed myself with it...

Also due to Facebook (such a waste of time I am told) I managed a personal best (PB) 5k following a bit of remote winding up from an ex colleague. Surgeon....

I've started using my Disabled Person's Bus Pass and am rapidly discovering that public transport for anything over a mile or two is pants. Actually, "rapidly" is definitely not the right word!!!

Had a great surprise at a "last Night of the Proms" style gig last weekend. The performance was in what can only be described as a "rough" town, one whose heart has been ripped out by planners and the collapse of the mining industry, but the scantily clad and tattooed 17 year old mum in the front row of the audience really enjoyed the concert - I know because she told me so. She sang along to all the patriotic songs and seemed to love the experience of being practically in the horn section. Sometimes it's easy to groan about playing familiar old warhorses of popular pieces but they should always be attacked afresh - it might have been my 500th "Land of Hope and Glory" with a live orchestra but it was her first and she loved it. Think on.

I did, however, miss the Aldworth Philharmonic Orchestra's Beethoven 9 where I was due to be playing the "big solo" on 4th horn (on the natural horn) which made me rather sad, but the section kept me posted (and beat me at on-line Scrabble rather too often for comfort...!).

If I can't get to the music perhaps the music could come to me? L's idea - some sort of Worcestershire Brass Ensemble. Listening to a Philip Jones Brass Ensemble (PJBE) record on vinyl (how quaint)("is that a big CD Daddy?") brought back lots of memories of good times and fun. Any takers?

To the point Nigel, get to the point...

Anyway to the reason for quoting from "As Time Goes By" and the title of this blog. I've now plucked up the courage to talk about Wednesday (11th July) just gone. It doesn't really sound much but I forgot my PIN when I came to pay for my few bits of shopping. The thing is, I have always had an extraordinarily good memory and particularly so with numbers, so forgetting this one (and in fact all my other PINs) hit me very hard. After giving my shopping back and the embarrassment I felt about doing that I came out and phoned L. At this point I realised that it was 25 minutes later than it should have been and that somewhere between grabbing my backpack and noting the time (12 noon) and leaving the shop (less than 1km away), 55 minutes had passed. Which means that I had had a 15 - 20 minute absence at home ( a later converstaion revealed that a neighbour sighted me walking to the shop at 12:30) before I set out - I should have guessed that something had gone on because my thoughts were rather disorganised all the way to the shop including a very intense feeling which I can only describe as the opposite of deja vu in that I could not recognise a single thing in my own road and felt that I had never been there before. Which means that I am not "better", and my GP agrees and has signed me off until September. I'm also finding that my memory - joking aside - is becoming increasingly unreliable. Damn it.

Until the next time everyone, thanks for thinking of me and thanks for being there when we need you.

From the reworked WW2 "keep Calm and Carry On" series

Those That Can, Do
Those that can't, start a Blog and moan about it