Wednesday February 1, 2023

        Nothing can rescue this day, unless the pills I have just taken stop the pain in the wound left by the excision of a skin cancer next to my left ear.

At 9.45 am, I checked in with Joan at the surgery of the dermatologist, Dr. Bryan Pang, in order to have three squamus skin cancers removed--two on my right knee and one by my ear. Things went briskly at first--into a changing room: strip off down to my underpants and socks: put on a gown: taken into an area where I lay down on a bed, surrounded by curtains...but then I waited and waited and waited. It was, I believe, about an hour before Pang came in and and spent fifteen minutes or so drawing little diagrams around the places where he would make the incisions. He told me the anesthetist would be with me shortly. 

He wasn't. 

I must have waited at least another half an hour before he arrived and gave me the local anesthetics. And then another long wait before I was wheeled into the operating theater. The nurses did a lot of preparatory work before Pang arrived to start the incisions. I lost track of time, but my guess is that it took him about three quarters of an hour to complete the surgery (during which he related in great detail the story of his medical training in the U.S.)  and there was another fifteen minutes while the nurses dressed the wounds. Before letting me get my clothes back on, they placed me in a chair, brought me some orange juice, and took my blood pressure.

It seems we left the surgery at about 1.30 pm, which means I was there for nearly four hours. And the excisions and the stitching, while not exactly painful, were very stressful and uncomfortable. And the waiting....well.

So it goes. Uber home. Intense pain from the ear incision. Nothing from the knee incisions. Later in the afternoon, poor Joan, who spent much of her morning in the waiting room (and took a break visiting the Anzac Memorial), did the shopping at Coles and brought back some pain killers. (Can I spell the make?) Paracetamol (Got it first try). And I have just taken a second one as the first does not seem to have had much of an effect.

I have a great bandage round my head, covering the ear excision, but I can take that off tomorrow.

On Friday, the wounds will be checked. Undoubtedly another long wait...

Australian Impressions

 A few impressions of Australia.

Everywhere in Sydney you see dozens and dozens of electric bikes delivering food. Whether this developed during the pandemic, or had started much earlier, I do not know. There is a bike path below our apartment, and an electric bike food delivery passes by every few minutes.

It seems that in Sydney almost everybody has their mobile phone in their hands and a high proportion have their earbuds in. And there must be millions and millions of photos taken each day, perhaps driven by the tourist influx. The Asian tourists seem to photograph everything. In earlier years when we were here, a great many selfie-sticks were in evidence. They seem to have disappeared. Maybe the newer phones make it easier to take selfies.

I have never seen so many people--male and female--with tattoos. It is summer, of course, so much more flesh is bared, I suppose, than in the winter. Males seem to go in for whole arms and legs being covered, and necks, shoulders, backs.  Horrendous. I wonder what the psychology of this obsession is: it certainly does not enhance these men's appearance. And women, also, are very much into it, from teenage girls with small stars on their arms, to middle-aged and elderly women with their whole arms and shoulders tattooed. Yesterday I passed two tattoo parlors: in each chair in each parlor a woman was being tattooed.

And there is much female flesh on display. On the top, bare shoulders and very low-cut necklines, say about a third or a half .of the way down the breasts. And below, a great deal of thigh is typically exposed. My mother would never have let my sisters go out with such skimpy coverage...

The beaches are jam-packed. Yesterday we did a long walk that took us across three beaches to the north of Sydney and ended with us walking along behind a kilometer of a famous beach at Manly. Everywhere there was scarcely free sand between the sunbathers, the picnickers, the volley-ball players, and in the water huge crowds of swimmers in the areas that were safe to swim. And dozens of surfers way out waiting for the huge waves.

Steps...everywhere we take hike around the coast or walk through the city, there are steps and staircases All around the miles of shoreline in Sydney harbor, there are steep cliffs, steep ups and downs, and very often one's route requires going up and down steps. Even getting into the Opera House and getting to our seats, involved at least a hundred steps. The most infamous--and often on our route walking home--are the Macelhone steps. I think they are are 114 steps. I am fairly beat by the time I get to the top of them. Apparently they are considering putting in an elevator.

The cult of physical fitness is obvious...it's not just the multitude of male and female runners, but the number of gyms that you see.  Any long row of stores will have a couple of gyms and often a yoga place. And in the parks, lots of personal trainers at work with their clients. We have often seen runners training by running up and down the Macelhone steps.

And we often see two men walking together, with one of them leading a small dog on a leash. Apparently the neighborhood in which we are staying is much favored bt Sydney gays.

Thoughts On My Birthday

 I suppose that everyone, as they 'get up there' in age, wonder on their birthdays if they will reach their next one.

I am optimistic. I suppose I am 'tempting Providence' to say that I expect that I will make it for at least another year. Life expectancy at 88--my age this birthday--is about five years, but that average includes a percentage of people who are already facing serious health problems.

Yes..I have a pacemaker--but that has been ticking away for well over twelve years. "Don't need an EKG," said my doctor the last time I saw him: 'your heart sounds fine.'

Some worries about the prostate, but the urologist's verdict recently was "no sign of malignancy.'

And so--reaching 88--I cross my fingers and feel reasonably optimistic that I will make it through to 89.

More worries about the possibilities of developing Alzheimers or plain old senile dementia. Increasingly, I am afflicted by nominal aphasia. Some times embarrassingly so. Last night, sheltering from the rain under a bus shelter, while we waited for an Uber, the word "Uber" must have been mentioned a dozen times. But when I started a sentence to make some comment and needed the word "Uber," it just wasn't there, and my sentence tailed off in embarrassment as someone else supplied me with the word. Sometimes, doing a crossword, I see what the word is, but by the time I reach for my pencil, I have lost it...

But--finally--let me admit that the thought of death, while by no means uppermost my mind, does seem to be with me more and more as they years go by.  And the thought is not so much when it will happen, but how? Months of suffering with stomach cancer? Or a quiet heart attack in my sleep?

Stop it, David. Post what you have written and send the URL to Dan and John....

Sunday Evening Jan. 22

 Yesterday was an eventful day--a long and very tough walk in the morning. First on the ferry to Cremorne Point and then a coastal walk, eventually bringing us to Taronga Zoo, and then the ferry back to Circular Quay. But there were some awful uphill stretches and loads and loads of steps

In the evening we went by bus to the Entertainment Quarter, aiming to eat a meal before we went to a 20-20 cricket match between the Sydney Sixers and the Sydney Thunder. Just as we got there, it began to pour with rain, and the place was so crowded there was simply no possibility of eating unless we joined long lines. Because of the rain, we feared that the whole evening would be ruined. Time passed, and slowly the rain seemed to ease. We went into the cricket ground and found our seats in the pavilion. Slowly they got things ready, the rain stopped, and the game actually began at 7.20pm rather than 7.00pm.

The Sixers batted first and made a huge score, with Smith, their captain making a century...lots of sixes and fours. The batting of the Thunder was pathetic, and we decided to beat the huge crowd (the place was full) and leave when they had lost 6 wickets and had no hope in hell of winning. And shortly after we worked our way out, and returned the passes to MaCardles, the last few wickets fell. We walked home via Oxford Street and Kings Cross, picking up a delicious pizza on the way--we were very hungry, having missed an evening meal.

Today, pouring rain again. Joan did run when it was not so bad. Later in the morning, we walked to the cinema on Oxford street and saw an extraordinary film called "Babylon."

And then home, though Joan did a bit of walk-around and some shopping at Woolworth's on Macleay.

My major task this evening has been to direct the mango...

Friday Evening

 Yesterday we went, via train to Redfern Station, to the White Rabbit Gallery to see a very interesting exhibition of works by contemporary Chinese artists--very impressive, in particular a series of extraordinary animated films. We then walked through a part of town called Chippendale, seeing on the way some extraordinary office and apartment buildings of wonderful architectural designs. We emerged in Darling Harbor, and there we paid $12 each to go into the Chinese Friendship Garden--worth every cent, covering quite an area and so beautifully landscaped with ponds, waterfalls, a couple of pagodas--with flowers and shrubs blooming everywhere.

Over the bridge, up Market St. to the QVB bus stops. It would have been a long wait for the bus, so we crossed over the road and went into the maelstrom of the Town Hall Station..and then home to 503, via Kings Cross Station, with brief stop in Woolworths.

Let's dispose of today quite quickly. Buses to the Cricket Ground. Picked up the tickets from MaCardles for the cricket match tomorrow. Then we did an extensive walking tour of the art galleries in the Paddington area. Lunch--Joan an Acai bowl, and me a granola bowl.

Not much else for the rest of the day. An after dinner perambulation, adding my day's miles up to 7.2.

Wednesday Evening.

 Yesterday, Tuesday, is swiftly dealt with. Walk to Circular Quay: ferry to Manly: walk to Shelley beach, where Joan swam. Walk back to the Corso via the smoothie shop--two mango smoothies. Visit to the Manly Art Gallery. Ferry back to Circular Quay. Walk to the QVB bus stops, Joan buying a pair of shorts on the way. Bus to Apt 503.

Tennis--on TV...Australian Open. The usual after dinner walk.

Today...more adventurous. Bus to Taylor Square. bus to Coogee, and then the five kilometer coastal walk to Marouba. At the point on the walk where one usually walks across a rocky ledge and climbs up stairs at the end, the trail was blocked as a result of storm damage to the stairs. This entailed a lengthy diversion on the streets, but it proved worth it; we walked through streets of magnificent houses--many of great architectural interest. When we asked a construction worker what sort of prices these houses made, he said "At least $10 million dollars."

Just before Marouba, we swam in the rock pool. Bit of a production, changing, and finding somewhere in the crowds to sit. There were a lot of people there, filling almost every spot where you could put your stuff down. Joan swam twice. I immersed my self and splashed around for ten minutes or so: refreshing... 

Lunch outside on a shaded picnic table--after a long wait for food, and then the bus back to Taylor square: walk to Coles: shopped, and back to the apartment.

Joan collected our evening eats from the shop in the Loop. Good meal. and the usual walk after we had eaten.

More TV tennis.

We continue to be shocked by seeing men, and to a lesser extent women, with most of their visible flesh plastered in tattoos.

Why on earth do they do it?

Monday Evening January 16

The day is winding down. Joan been working for the last hour. I have been watching tennis--Tsisipas against a Frenchman. Tsisipas won.

Mistake in this morning's entry: Alison and Jack went off on a wine tasting trip to Hunter Valley. They will return on Wednesday to the airport, and it is then that they fly north for their boat excursion in the Whitsunday islands.

In the afternoon we took quite a lengthy walk in the Darling Point area, eventually finding some steps that took us down into Double Bay, where we caught a bus back to Potts Point. A little more shopping in Coles (beer) and then back to Apt. 503.

Barramundi for dinner. A walk down to the usual "place where we do the press-ups," which brought my mileage up to 7.3 for the day...no wonder my old bones are creaking as I get up from watching the tennis. 

Monday Morning January 16

 The high--literally--point of yesterday, Sunday, was dinner in the revolving restaurant at the top of the Sydney Tower. Joan and I went there via the 324 bus and a short walk. As the clock ticked down towards the reservation time, we became increasingly concerned that Alison and Jack would be late: but no--they arrived at just the right time, and up we went in the elevator. Wonderful meal, excellent wines, and a great, revolving view of the whole of Sydney, from Botany Bay to Manly. The bill was on the high side (much more than I have ever paid in a restaurant) but the overall experience made it worthwhile. Supposedly, it was to celebrate my birthday, but I shied away from that aspect, as it seems like tempting Providence to celebrate a birthday before you have actually reached it.

And with our trip home, luck was on our side: a 311 arrived at the bus stop at the same time as we did, and we were home quickly, with a walk down the steps from the Loop and around the Reg Bartley Oval to Marina 2.

Alison and Jack have gone--in an Uber to the airport, to take a flight to somewhere in the north where they have an adventurous package holiday for a week on a boat.

Joan and I have just come back from a bit of shopping at Coles, where we found it impossible to get a moderate sized pack of toilet paper---we really did not need 20 rolls. Luckily, after we had finished at Coles, I went into Woolworths and found a suitable pack. (Trivial details of daily life---but much of life is made up of these trivial details.)

We have the television on, showing the Australian Open Tennis championships. 

Now I must finish my novel and find a new one from the DC Library.

Saturday January 14

 I am writing this on Sunday morning, January 15. Joan is in the swimming pool, and Jack--who arrived early this morning--and Alison have gone off to visit the Taronga Zoo. I am taking it easy today, as yesterday I clocked up 9.2 miles.

We were up early on Saturday morning, but it was raining and we delayed setting out until there was a break in the rain. We walked up to Kings Cross Station, took the train to Bondi Junction, and then the bus to Bondi Beach. We walked above the sand along a long stretch of beach, watching the surfers and admiring the very striking graffiti. Up the hill at the end, passing the Iceberg Swimming Pool. We continued all the way along the coast to Coogee, with one stop at Bronte Beach, where Joan and Alison swam in the rock pool, while I guarded their stuff and watched the constantly passing scene--lots and lots of people of all shapes and sizes, all sorts of clothes, all sorts of ethnicity, all different ages, from toddlers to geriatric users of walkers. At one point we were caught in an intense rain shower, but the sun did come out and tried us off as we walked.

The shore-line trail was very tough going in places--long stretches of steps, long steep uphills--many places where I should probably have stopped and rested, but there was a lot of foot traffic all the way, and I did not want to impede other fitter and faster walkers. Anyway, I made it, though sometimes looking ahead and seeing what I was faced with, I would think--"I just cannot do this."

Long bus-ride back from Coogee, and then the walk from Taylor Square back to 503 Marina Two.

Alison had a meeting/dinner with friends in Potts Point, and Joan and I were on our own to eat--great salmon cooked in a bag in the microwave and little potatoes, followed by a fruit that I had skinned, the name of which eludes me (nominal aphasia)...it begins, I think, with an 'm.' Got it--mango!

And then we took the traditional after-dinner walk.

Joan went early to bed, and I waited up for Alison to return from her outing with her friends---I was surprised how late she was: she came in close to 11.00 pm. I had felt like a father who was worried when his daughter had not come home at the prescribed curfew time.

This evening we are going to eat at the Sydney Tower. A dress-up occasion.

I am still reading a novel I down-loaded from the DC Library. It is by an Australian author, name of Liane Moriarty. The title is "Apples Never Fall." I am at page 352 out of 554--so, 200 pages yet to go. I'm not inclined to spend time explaining what it is all about: but I will say that I would recommend it. Family saga, and a mystery, seen from a large number of different viewpoints.

Joan back from her swimming--she had the pool to herself for a good stretch before the kiddies arrived. 

Sydney: Thursday/ Friday January 12/13

 Thursday turned out to be a very tough day for me, with my pedometer showing ten miles at the end of the day.

We set out on the bus to the starting point for the Heritage Trail, which took us on a very taxing but scenic route--about four miles-- along the water to Shark Beach, where the intention was to swim....but no--the place was closed for major construction...new sea wall, new changing facilities, new cafe...and so we just had to press on through the streets to Parsley Bay. Along the way, through Vaucluse, we passed amazing houses, obviously multi-million dollar places, and all extraordinarily well-manicured. Joan and Alison swam in Parsley Bay, and they came out itching and stinging--some sort of sea-lice. Both were caught at the same time, and both turned to each other to say, "are you being stung?"

On into Watsons Bay and lunch at Doyles--me standing in line to pick up our order of fish chowders, while Alison and Joan went across the park to look out over the Pacific. And after our lunch, we took the walk out to the Heads, the entrance into Sydney harbor from the Pacific. Ferry from Watsons to Circular Quay, and the usual walk home across the park, down to Cowpers Wharf, up the dreaded 114 Maclehone Steps, on to Woolworths, then the wine store, and back home.

I had found the walking quite tough. On the Heritage trail, there  were lots of steps and steep uphills.

I am writing this on Friday. Alison and Joan have gone to meet (and swim and lunch with) a friend of a friend of Alison. She lives in the Mossman area, and A and J had to take a bus from Wynyard bus station in the middle of the CBD and travel across North Sydney out to The Spit, where they would rendezvous with the friend of a friend.

I had decided to stay at home today, after yesterday's strenuous activity. So a quiet day, just a walk to the Wine Store and back in a loop to the cafe at Rushcutters, where I had a granola bowl for my lunch--granola, various fruits, and yoghurt.

And now for a session with the novel I am reading.

Sydney: Wednesday January 11.

 Alison arrived today. 

Her plane got in to the airport at about 6.30am after a forteen hour flight from Abu Dhabi, and she arrived here in a cab at about 8.00am. She was not sleepy, she was alive and alert, and ready to be introduced to Sydney. So once she had settled in, we took the bus to Millers Point and walked the Sydney Bridge--a suitable introduction to the city. On the north side, we went along the water by Luna Park and found our way to the ferry stop at McMahon Wharf. Short wait for the ferry and then back into Circular Quay. A walk around in front of the Opera House into the Botanic Gardens, out the gate that took us down to Cowpers Wharf, up the Macklehone Steps, and back through Macleay Street, past the fountain, and down past the police station.

Quiet afternoon. Joan and Alison swam in the pool. Joan cooked the evening meal. The traditional walk after we had eaten, and Alison went early to bed before I started typing today's entry.

Monday January 9

 Busy, busy day today. By a complicated route using a bus to Central Station and the Light Rail from there, we arrived at Jubilee Park and followed the pathway by the water all the way to Bridge Road, where--in the water there was a huge construction project--The New Sydney Fish Market--which looked like it would be an architectural triumph, judging by the pictures. But our route continued on Bridge Street to the old Fish Market, where Joan did her stint of fish photography, and then we ordered food (Snapper and Baramundi, and chips) which I picked up. Joan bought a bottle of wine. We ate outside, overlooking the water, where the seagulls gathered to swoop in flocks at any small amount of food that people threw in the water. And then the stately pelican appeared, cruising slowly and majestically up and down.

Bus to Elizabeth Street, and then quite a walk to the new Art Museum of New South Wales--an amazing architectural achievement, full of the most striking exhibition of--mostly--aboriginal art. We will need to make a second visit.

Walk home via Macelhone Steps, which I counted at 114.

The Trip to Sydney

It was a long journey...

We left home at 10.00am on Thursday January 5, going out to Dulles airport in a taxi, arriving in plenty of time for a plane to Houston at 12.30 pm. The trip to Houston took about three and a half hours, and then we had a long wait in the United Polaris lounge until we boarded the flight to Sydney at about 8.00 pm. The plane left around 8.30pm and the flight to Sydney took 17 hours and about fifty minutes. And so, in total, we were in the air for some 24 or so hours, and we didn't have a Friday. 

It was about 6.15 am on Saturday when we arrived in Sydney. The airport was heavily crowded with incoming passengers...long, long lines for immigration checks, and our bags were among the last to come up on the carousel. But we were met by a driver, and we arrived some twenty minutes later at our wonderful rented flat on the fifth floor of a modern building overlooking Rushcutters Bay.

After unpacking, we went to Coles supermarket and shopped for the basic groceries we needed. In the afternoon we walked some more around Rushcutters Bay and then went into Woolworths on Macleay Street for some more food, including a bottle of alcohol-free Cabernet Sauvignon--the taste of which left a lot to be desired.

Home for the evening meal, then another short walk, after which we spent some time on the balcony watching the birds--mainly cockatoos, and the odd flying-fox. Joan collapsed into bed (after, of course, the wheel--her nightly exercise ritual) and I am left tapping away with my two fingers on this blog-post.

My pedometer, which I popped into my pocket when we left in the morning to go to Coles now shows 5.7 miles. So we got our exercise.

January 4, 2022

 This is the evening--January 4--before we make our long trip to Australia, with the flight from Houston to Sydney an unbelievable 17 hours and 40 minutes. And there is the usual anxiety about the journey.

The biggest worry in the run-up to the trip has been the fear of getting Covid and having to cancel, with all that might have meant about fare refunds and what we have already paid for the accommodation in Sydney. But...we are both seemingly free of any symptoms, so that concern has passed away.

A miracle occurred last Friday. I went to the drug store to get two prescriptions I needed so as to have sufficient drugs to carry me through to our return from Australia. I picked them up, and then bought something in the grocery store and put it in a plastic bag. Shortly after getting to our apartment, I asked myself--where are the two small brown bags with the prescriptions? Couldn't find them, panicked, retraced my steps, and--miracles happen--I arrived in the garage of our building at the precise moment when I could see the two bags in the middle of a parking space and a car, with reversing lights on, starting to back into that space. So I rushed and grabbed them up---a minute, 30 seconds, perhaps, later, they would have been under the car, and I would never have been them.

That was also the day when the urologist informed me that the scan showed no signs of malignity.

Good day...