WHOOPDEEDOO!
Yesterday I made my monthly visit to Charing Cross hospital
for the result of my blood test. Not the happiest of days. It's a bit life and death.
For two years this has been like watching ‘Final Score’ on a rainy
Saturday afternoon in the middle of a frantic relegation battle – with me being
the hopeless team that’s been losing all season.
Best players sold, manager sacked, ground bought by a
property developer. Old men and boys weeping in the stands.
They couldn’t even afford to restock the pies, for chrissakes.
It was good, I got another month!
So, will I be using that month to contemplate my own
mortality?
Ponder, ponderously, about my place in the universe?
Eh no, not exactly. I spent the afternoon a bit shell shocked
and made lemon ice for the first time.
If I was more up myself I would call it ‘granita’.
It’s midnight now and I’m sat in the kitchen eating the lemon
ice I made – thinking about the next four weeks of music, adventures, World cup, surprises, Le Tour de France, stunts, protests, trespasses, over
doing things, recipes, beer, a bit more music.
Oh and sticking it to St. Peters as well, I think.
Here’s a photo of the statue in one of the courtyards at
Charing Cross Hospital – it’s amazing.
I can't enlarge it - thanks Blogger - but if you click on it you get a better view.
It’s a horseman charging into the future, on his mighty horse.
In his right hand a hammer and in his left the leash of his falcon, which flies above him. What
a sight! I'm thinking norse god here. Why not, it made me feel good.
What a thrill.
I tried to get closer, or at least to find out who did it but
I couldn’t. I think this was installed when the hospital was built in the 1960’s
after it moved from the actual Charing Cross where it had been for hundreds of
years before.
But the hospital always has breathtaking art on its walls.
Last year
when I had a bit of radiotherapy, everything was better for the Bridget Riley
lithographs on the walls. In the main foyer there are striking works of modern
art and they often change them around.
There’s an art committee and the money comes from the friends
of the hospital.
Because people care about it, it makes everyone feel just that
little bit better.
Like the guy on the counter of the pharmacy who came up and told me that he wished he was serving me a five star French meal rather than the medication they were preparing. How nice is that?
West Mid (less money) has art too, but more modestly. They have David Hockney prints that are just great.
St Peter's and Wexham? No one cares.
Outside in the sun, I was reading the notices; the Peregrine
Falcons who live on the building had a baby this spring, due to fledge by the
end of the month.
As they tend to have a
few failed attempts there is an appeal for anyone to report a crashed falcon!
I’m now about 4 or 5 days behind with this Blog – I will
catch up, but this was a fairly good day.
Thanks Dr Feelgood, purveyor of ‘exotic herbs and proscribed
chemicals’ (Withnail and I).
Everybody else gave up on me but you.
Neil Harris
(a don’t stop till you drop production)
