Ennui

I was lying in the bath earlier when I thought about it. I usually have a bath rather than a shower in order to protect my exit site. It's quite nice anyway to be submerged (partially) by bubbles and warm water as I contemplate life.

It's ennui, the definition of my own life right now. Ennui for having a fucking inconvenient kidney disease; ennui for how debilitating it is, zapping my energies, ennui for the mist I have lived in for the past 20 years as a prescription medication taker to slow my blood pressure down; ennui for the daily drag of attending a job I really am bored by, yet having no interest in any other thing; ennui for the constant saving up for a pension, a future that is meaningless; ennui for Brexit, for the fact that I am powerless to control its outcome; ennui for the fact that I can't even escape the Brexit hell hole for France and warmer places due to being stuck in Blighty with my gammy kidneys; ennui that I just don't understand what it is all about and why I am blindly doing it, whatever "it" is.

What I can do is cocoon myself away with my heating on full blast, eating chocolate, listening to teenage angst music pretending all of the above doesn't exist.

Ennui.

Face Palm

Where do I begin to depict the events of the past week. I've actually been putting off writing a post because, if truth be told, I am fed up with Brexit. So fed up. And actually this is what Theresa May is hoping for, that people will now be so bored of it that they will just want the Government to get on with it. Well unfortunately Mrs May, I do not want you to "just get on with it". I want you to stop it.

So after the Government pulled the vote for the disastrous Withdrawal Bill, knowing that it would be defeated catastrophically, Mrs May faced a confidence vote with her own party. I have to say that when faced with danger, she is a survivor. She survived that, with 200 members voting for her, putting paid to the ambitions of Mr Rees Mogg. Then she scurried off to the EU to attempt the impossible and get a legal definition to the infamous backstop. Well guess what, she didn't get a thing. Yet she returned to try and argue the exact opposite, that the EU had given her assurances that the backstop would only ever be used as a temporary measure. It's like she is living in a parallel universe.

I've noticed in the past week how much more febrile is the atmosphere in political interviews, on that silly stand overlooking the Houses of Parliament. On Twitter too. Something is changing. Perhaps it is panic on behalf of the Brexiteers as they finally realise that they have lost the argument and the spectre of a second referndum starts looming. Even that weasal Darren Grimes, live on Sky News, seemed to threaten national violence if another referendum is declared.

Then today, just after the Government declared that a new date for the vote on the Withdrawal Agreement will take place next January, Jeremy Corbyn seemed to finally wake up and announce a vote of no confidence in Mrs May. Only its all pretense. A vote of confidence in her doesn't really matter. He needs to declare on in the Government if he is really pushing for a General Election.

And worst of all I watch BBC News coverage about American politics and the fact that Russia meddled in virtually every social media platform in order to elect Donald Trump. Yet nobody is reporting that it is highly likely that Russia did exactly the same to cause Brexit. Face palm.

Meaningful vote

So there we have it; the proposed Withdrawal Agreement has been delivered and is now being debated in Parliament. And it is not looking good for Theresa May. As it stands she will not manage to get this "meaningful vote" passed next week, despite the enormous push she has given to it.

The deal is flawed. The backstop is one thing, but equally the fact that we will be "rule takers" and not "rule makers". This makes me chuckle. If we wanted to leave the EU why did we want to be rule makers anyway. People have just not thought this through. And this is what gives me the believe that when it comes to the crunch we will not be leaving the EU. Sooner or later common sense will prevail and the impossible conundrum will be finally exposed for what it is.

So the decision now is between May's deal, no deal or no Brexit. Well both May's deal and no deal are not really going to prevail. The devastation that would occur throughout this country in the event of a no deal isn't worth thinking about. I for one would suffer from this scenario, unable to have access to my medical supplies.

This whole sorry story just needs to end. It is so depressing to think where we have gone as a country, where removing freedom of movement "once and for all" is seen as a "win".  The only person winning would be Theresa May who, having failed to control immigration whilst Home Secretary, when she could have done under EU rules, now is attempting to finish the job.

It makes me so mad that we are considering throwing away everything that we have built over the last 45 years. But like I say I am still quietly confident that common sense will prevail in the end.

Time will tell, next Tuesday when the vote goes through the House of Commons, I am hoping about anything that it will fail. Then the Grieve Amendment will mean that Parliament can attempt to wrestle control from the incompetent hands of the government and put an end to any chance of a no-Brexit. Then it can start to pick up the pieces of this unholy mess.

We have a deal...or Suez

This week was a dramatic one in politics. One Thursday a deal came in, finally after 2 and a half years. And it went down like the proverbial lead balloon.

I don't know why anyone is surprised. It was always going to be painful. Not least because of having to deal with the question of the Irish border.

This has triggered a number of letters to be sent to the 1922 Committee. Whether it reaches the magical number 48 is quite likely.

Theresa is on the offensive. After all, why would we choose a "no deal" over this "bad deal".

Has it really come to this?

Now it is blindingly obvious to Brexiteers as well as Remainers that the only solution is to remain.

Theresa seems to be toast but then she has a habit of clinging on. She will no go quietly that is for sure.

This has got to be the biggest political upset since the Suez crisis. This has to stop.

Surely.

A War to end all wars

On the 100th anniversary of the end of the First World War I wanted to write a few words.

Nothing was more poignant as when Mr Macron made a speech today about the importance of patriotism over nationalism; how one didn't equal the other. On today of all days it is important as ever to remark that taking an isolationist approach is not the way forward. Nationalism will never work, will never be the progressive direction of a country to take.

In that sense it is abundantly clear that Brexit will never work. This isolationist policy, turning our back on Europe is one of isolationism. There are those who might say, but no, it is turning towards to rest of the world. But to turn our back on our own neighbours is a wrong direction. It is because of the atrocities of war that the European Union has strove to maintain peace and harmony across the continent. Brexit is an impossible conundrum, one that will destroy the peace of the Good Friday Agreement. There is still no answer to that. The best solution is the one that we have right now. That is the one that has the best trade position, the best alignment of goods and services. I am positive that we will not destroy our country in order to pursue an ideology of nationalism.

When it comes to the crunch, then Theresa May (or "if" I should say) returns to Parliament with a deal for us to leave the European Union, it will never be as good as what we have now. Never. And if we remain indefinitely in the Customs Union then what is the good of that? We will indeed be the vassal state that Mr Rees-Mogg so often complains about. We will have left but still be bound by rules not of our own making and without the ability to strike trade deals across the world. That deal fails to work for Remainers and Brexiteers alike. The best deal we can ever get is the one that we have currently. I'm hoping that this deal, if Mrs May does indeed return to Parliament with, will be rejected outright and a People Vote will ensue.

Only this last week, the brother of Boris Johnson, Jo Johnson, on resigning from his ministerial position declared so eloquently that after two years since the Referendum vote, what was promised then is so radically different to what we are facing in reality that it would be "travesty" to not ask the British people once again whether this is really what they voted on in 2016. Undoubtedly it is not. We never voted for "vassalage" like this.

And as it is becoming abundantly clear that the dark money that funded the Leave campaign is slowly being exposed, we were lied to and cheated of our democracy. It is time that the People of this country were truly represented by democracy and voted on the detail of this so-called deal. I am confident that if that indeed happens that we will decisively vote to remain, and put this whole sorry story behind us.

So on this day of reflection, let us consider the consequences of nationalism, of the consequences of dark money, of ideologies that betray what is great about this country. I am confident that in the end Brexit will not happen; common sense will prevail and we will move forward as a more united and engaged member of the European Union.

Nothing more to offer

It's not looking good for May. Tonight she has a dinner with the other EU members where she is supposed to give an update to her last position, which went down like a cup of cold sick.

She has no update to give.

She insists that the UK will not allow Northern Ireland be part of the Customs Union and Single Market when the rest of the UK is leaving it. This is because her hands are tied by the DUP. Yet she could take Labour's position of remaining in the Customs Union (which would render the UK a vassal state). In fact she has offered this, but only on a temporary basis, which is simply not good enough as a backstop for the EU.

It's not like the EU have changed in their position over the past 2 years.  They quite rightly are protecting the principles of the Customs Union and Single Market. Yet again May wants more than her fair share of cake. It's just embarrassing. This country used to be a proud nation. Think 2012. So proud.

And on top of all this I have a bout of gout. Making me feel nauseous and sick. Cannot walk, cannot eat, cannot sleep.

And so the 2018 Tory Conference begins...

As the 2018 Conservative Party conference season opens I wonder if this is the start of the end of the Tories for a generation. Already they have the embarrassment of the conference app allowing access to the personal details of many registrants. For a party wanting to break free from the constraints of the EU, it is perhaps ironic that the flagship EU law of 2018, namely around GDPR has been so spectacularly contravened. Time will tell as to whether the enormous potential penalties that can be levied on companies in breach of this new law could put a huge dent in the Conservative coffers.

It is not just a financial dent that we are talking about here. The potential for a political dent is immense, whereby a beleaguered leader is still attempting to peddle the Chequers Plan, which has been so clearly dismissed by the EU as unworkable. There is in fact no solution to the Brexit quagmire other than a new referendum. In fact now that the detail has emerged on the consequences of us leaving the European Union, it seems only fair that we vote based on facts, rather than on, as was the case in 2016, political sound bytes.

Theresa May is not in a good position right now. In fact this conference could serve to define her destiny, be it the "bloody difficult woman", leading the country, and indeed the Tory Party, out of this horrendous mess, or being consumed by the Machiavellian manoeuvres of the men in grey suits.

The likes of Boris Johnson, serving only the interests of their own careers rather than of the country just keep throwing the bombs over at Mrs May, and she keeps dodging them, claiming that Chequers is the only viable solution on the table, even when it is not. As for Boris he wants some kind of Canada+ solution, which simply fails to address the small issue of the Irish border.

Brexit will not happen. I am convinced of it. It is a mathematical impossibility. Unless the EU yields of course, which is what David Davis is predicting. So as the rest of us start stockpiling food and medicines where we can, we are told that things will "get scary" in the next few months.

If only it were that it got scary. Its more than that though. It's the lost opportunities whilst we are going through this. Only today the Guardian revealed that the vote to leave the EU is already costing the country £500 million a week. It's strange that the Tories used to be considered the party of business. Not any more, especially not after Johnson's ignorant comment to "fuck business". Even Digby Jones saw that as unacceptable.

What would be scary is if that man makes it to become PM. I don't think I can remain in this country any more if that happens. But then what is the alternative? Jeremy Corbyn? After years of saving up for my pension, only to see it stolen out of my hands.

Right now the future is bleak for me. I need to get through this kidney problem. I need to have a donor so that I can move on with my life. I keep waiting for the phone to ring, but so far only false alarms have come.

I'm isolated, introverted. Safe in my cocoon but vulnerable to the political future. This is not a good strategy for me. Work is safe too, but dull. These are not good years for me. Only one stability in my life makes it bearable - R. And for that I am truly blessed.

Working from home

I'm blogging on the hottest day of the year so far. My flat is hitting 32 degrees right now as I write this, wishing yet again that I had invested in an air-con unit...

I work every other Friday from home as I await the fluids and accompanying bits and pieces relating to my dialysis for delivery. The boxes contain 2 x 5000 litres of fluid, stacked high in my hallway.

So last night I began to see news of all the political advertising (and lies) that had been carried out by Vote Leave and BeLeave on the Facebook platform. More information can be found here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-44966969

Here is an example of the lies. Turkey is not going to be joining the EU for a very long time and even if it did, we are not part of the Schengen zone so they wouldn't have direct access to the UK.

And in addition to this, the Electoral Commission has recently concluded that Vote Leave worked in cahoots with BeLeave to maximise the amount of money they were permitted to spend. The referendum was really therefore a sham, grossly unfair and basically unfair.

What a week

Certainly was, beginning last Friday when I was offered a kidney! I was at work holding a pizza at the time when the surgeon from Guys called me to say that there was one available, bout 300 miles away and would be couriered over immediately.
I wasn't sure what to think. Who could know. He asked me if there was anything I wanted to know about the kidney. I asked what the eGFR was. 60 was his answer. It was a very good one, from someone between 55-65 years old. I left work immediately and made my way back in to London.
Meanwhile Theresa May was thrashing out the terms of the Brexit deal at Chequers, forcing the Cabinet into a soft Brexit scenario, as ultimately that is the only vaguely sensible solution (after remaining of course).
So that was at 12 noon and it took a further 9 hours of waiting. The kidney arrived about 7 and was then assessed. In the end it wasn't going to happen. It contained a blood clot preventing them from flushing it through properly. So we left, having given a huge amount of blood and listened to the World Cup football match via the full volume television of the patient in the next bed.
I felt quite calm about the whole thing, The person donating the kidney had died of a stroke that morning. I spent a lot of time thinking about them, hoping that perhaps some of their other organs might be more successfully donated. But what a beautiful thing it is to donate one's organs.
That evening, back in my flat we ordered burgers via Deliveroo and drank gin and tonics from tin cans. What wannabe Millennials!
And then this week, the resignations have begun, from the hard Brexiteers who just cannot accept reality. Time will tell as to whether they can successfully create a momentum to bring down Mrs May. But she has performed a master stroke in dividing them. Boris and Davis resigned, whereas Gove and Leadsom remain loyal. The latter made some cretinous remark later on about having to stop freedom of movement. Meanwhile the NHS is crying out for nursing staff and the fruits are rotting in the trees.
And as I type this England have finally crashed out of the World Cup. I witnessed the useful hooliganism behavior of drinks pushing over bins in the street down below. What more could I have expected?
And boy is it hot! The hottest summer in 40 years. Tomorrow I have a date with R at J Shekey followed by the opera. Bless him.

No news

Still no news on a donation. I'm getting bored more than anything. The daily routine of washing my hands three times, clearing up the tubes in the morning, ordering the supplies. It's so dull.

Today I realised that I'm short on the cassette device that pushes the fluids around the system. I have  a huge cardboard box of the things sitting in my hallway, alongside the towers of fluids and extension tubes, and I still forgot to include in my bi-weekly order.

One consolation of all this is that I have to spend every other Friday at home, awaiting delivery. What's more I also took delivery today of my haemoglobin injections. They're sitting in the fridge right now and I'm supposed to have already applied one to my torso.

In other news I'm on S7 of Mad Men. I've binge-watched it from the start and witnessed every women bedded by Donald Draper. It's like an escape to a time just before I was born, when everything was sexist, racist, homophobic and innocent.

Meanwhile Trump has finally met up with the cartoon character that is Kim Jong-un. Quite an achievement I'd say, and something that should surely give him the Nobel Peace Prize. He's a monster but one that has seemingly tamed another. Hillary must be spitting.

And Theresa May, finally showing her true colours this week by duping the Remain MPs into agreeing in a meeting to support the amendment for a meaningful vote; or rather support her in rejecting it from the Lords. Only there won't be a meaningful vote. She lied.

And still the Brexit machine rumbles on, even though it will ruin us all. The few ideologues who still holding May to ransom over it, forcing her hand just because it's the "will of the people".

I've been feeling quite low about this for some time now; well two years to be exact. For two years I've been in a twlight zone of belief, or non-belief, kidding myself that it won't happen. Well, my brother and my mother are getting what they wanted. Only I will never speak to them again whilst this insanity is happening. I cannot. I can barely speak to anyone to be honest.

Let the fluids begin

So now the time has arrived by which I must connect to the dialysis machine each night.

Following on from my recent operation to insert the catheter into my left side abdomen, last week I attended a two day residential course in Kew to learn the intricacies of PD dialysis. There, with two other patients (both ten years older than me) we learnt about the non-touch technique and the importance of hand hygiene when handling the equipment. And, boy, is there a lot of equipment. I'd already received my first delivery of fluid bags, extension lines, soaps and paper towels from Baxter, who are the distributors of the product. Here in Kew I learnt how to set it all up, and transfer two bags of five litre fluids through my body.

Thinking about it, it is the routine that is the most difficult for me. I hate routine. I hate repetition. One of the things that has hit me suddenly is that for the unforeseeable future, I will have the same routine to following, early evening, before bed and when I wake up each day. I'm less bothered by being connected for 8 hours at a time, although that can also be bothersome when the annoying alarm sounds in the middle of the night. It is the routine - and the preparation that accompanies it - that I hate.

What's more, it seems that everyone around me has started flapping, sending me texts and letters. Me, in the middle of my own storm and quite calm, albeit annoyed. Everyone else is in panic. And to explain the intricacies of my new experience is now boring.

Which brings me on to Cambridge Analytica. That is certainly not boring. Nor is the story emerging in the news that Vote Leave might have broken rules during the Referendum in funding a group called BeLeave with nearly £700,000. That would be cheating and would be illegal. What's more, with the result of the Referendum so close, they would only have had to sway the minds of about 634,000 people to change the result. This is starting to look like the result of the 2016 Referendum is unsafe. I have written to my MP asking him to clarify from Mrs May whether if this is proven to be the case, she will look to suspend Article 50 immediately. For all the talk of the "will of the people" it seems the said will is no longer a done deal.

So now I return to my new life of fluid change, staring at the boxes piled high in my flat, thinking of when I will start my bedtime procedure to hook up to my new machine. It's funny, as a tax payer, I am certainly getting my money's worth from the NHS. In fact it has really made me realise what a wonderful organisation it is, that I can be looked after with such efficiency and at such cost from the public purse. Yes, there needs to be more investment in the NHS, but the principles laid down by Bevan all that time ago are still sound. I just hope that if we do fall out of the EU it will remain in public hands, with universal coverage. To me that is the essence of Britishness, a decency that looks after our own. Also one that respects fair elections and deals appropriately with cheats.

The country has gone mad

It is incredible to see the force of debate between the two sides on Brexit. Today John Major waded in to the polemic to demand a free vote on the referendum in Parliament, and that no PM should deliberately make the country poorer.

It is true that Theresa May is taking us down a very narrow path, a deep ravine over which we will surely tumble. The December agreement has today been published in legalese by the EU, stating the three options that the UK government has regarding the Irish border:
 - Remain within the Customs Union
- Identify a technical solution to avoid a hard border
- Accept convergence of regulations between Ireland and Northern Ireland, effectively putting the border into the Irish Sea.

May has rejected outright the 3rd option, as this would break up the internal Single Market of the UK. A taste of her own medicine perhaps. It would also never be accepted by the DUP. Despite Boris's ridiculous suggestion that the border could be managed with similar technology as with the Congestion Charge between Camden and Westminster, no detailed technical solution has been forthcoming to answer option 2. That is because there is none. And even Boris has admitted in private correspondence that a hard border would be necessary.

This leaves the only remaining option, which is to remain within the Customs Union. This is what, back in 2016, we warned Brexiteers would happen. I hold my head in my hands as the news avalanche of Brexit continues to pour cold water on the stupid and ridiculous hard Brexit ideology. Yet they cannot accept reality as it stares them in the face. Surely, sooner or later, the Government will have to accept that this entire fiasco must stop.

Snow day!

So Jeremy Corbyn has declared that Labour would seek to remain in "a" Customs Union, finally putting some clear blue water between the Brexit policy of the two main political parties. Boris, who has accused him of selling snake oil and deceiving the will of the people (despite doing exactly that on the side of a red bus) is still barking on about the use of technology to avoid a hard Irish border. This morning on Radio 4 he even compared it to the Congestion Charge technology used when passing between Camden and Westminster. Well time is running out for the Government to come clean and reveal exactly what the technological solution would look like exactly. The whole thing is ridiculous. If Corbyn is being truthful then I might well vote for him should there be another General Election. Forcing this path would almost certainly bring down the May government, that's for sure.

Other news this week I had my operation for the catheter insertion. A couple of nights at Guys and now I am back home recuperating.  The NHS is truly an amazing organisation of people. It is the people that make it so special. Operationally I was lying in my bed on the ward, comparing how it could be improved if it took a few patterns from the airline industry: checkin, upgrades, ancillaries, seat/bed map. I could definitely provide a few ideas.

Now I'm not working right now I am spending a lot of time in my flat, staring out of the window. I've stopped my painkillers and am looking at the snowflakes drifting down onto the rooftops across the road. Thursday is supposed to bring a blizzard. Finally, the Daily Express can be proud that their headline has some degree of accuracy. 

Downwards

So I've received my appointment for surgery to insert a peritoneal catheter into my abdomen. This is the first stage of my entry into dialysis.


In addition I will be having an umbilical hernia fixed, which was something I was not aware of, but hey, two for the price of one and all that I suppose.


For preparation I have to take a nasty solution of Sodium Picosulfate, which will clear my bowels, dramatically, in the 48 hour run up to the operation. So that will mean I have to work from home in the run up.


I knew all this was coming but my last blood test revealed a reduced eGFR of 8. Carla eat your heart out. When I watch that programme I know it's for dramatic effect that she is not already on dialysis but it is still odd to see her collapsing on an eGFR of 16. Still, I suppose everyone is different. I feel generally fine still, if a little drunk feeling and out of focus on life challenges. I've recently just not been going into work and sleeping a lot, which I guess is my symptoms starting to rear up.


And if that were not bad enough we are still in this poisonous Brexit nightmare where the government is still insistent on pursuing a suicidal exit strategy. They want to leave the Customs Union in order to strike trade deals with the rest of the world! Well guess what, we have to put up a border across Ireland if we do that. It's very very odd to see the blatant myopia and insistence that Mr Barnier would not go that far. Well he has spelt it out very clearly now. There will be a border if we leave the Customs Union. And so the likes of Mr Rees-Mogg, who seems as divorced from reality as my renal symptoms are making me, wish for us to go down the no-deal route and exit the EU next year without any implementation phase. This will lead to utter chaos, with planes not even able to fly across our borders in theory. I just wish this chaos would all stop. It is obvious that we cannot pursue a hard Brexit and that a no-deal would be catastrophic. The recent leaked Government sanctioned reports have stated this - that there would be up to 16% impact in the classic Brexiteer areas of the North East if we leave without any deal.


I just wish for one thing. That my health returns in the near future, and that I have the choice at least on whether to leave this xenophobic, poisonous country and move across the Channel to Europe. That is my dream, but for the time being I am reliant on the NHS, wonderful that it is, to help me recover.

So near but so far

Today I learnt that a kidney came in for me last month. Unfortunately it wasn't deemed suitable so I wasn't called by the hospital. But someone died that same day for that to happen. Kind of puts everything into perspective. Made me shudder.

A new year and a new post

A new year and a new post, but not yet, alas, a new kidney. Nor a new Referendum.

Not that I am wishing for a new Referendum. The last one is bad enough. Yet a comment by Mr Farage today seems to have taken off by which he apparently called for a second one, thinking it would "kill off" the discussion for a generation. Lots of Remainers have latched onto this to agree with giving the people a final say. I say they should never have been given the vote in the first place. There is no place in our Parliamentary Democracy for plebiscites. It leads only to populism. A question such as whether to remain or leave the European Union was far too vague to ask the opinion of ill-informed people. Even the politicians were ill-informed at that time. Only now as we start to drill down to the minute detail are the true consequences of leaving becoming apparent to more people.

Project Fear is becoming Project Fact. Mr Farage's influence seems to not be diminishing and although he is no longer the leader of UKIP his words have been seized upon by the media. Too bad that common sense has not yet prevailed. I would much prefer Parliament to have the final say when all the facts are laid bare, but only if one of the options is to remain, rather than the "take it or leave it" option being put forward.

I will never again vote Conservative. Nor will I ever vote Labour, or at least whilst Momentum have a stranglehold over the Party. Never did I imagine ever that Centrism would become such a dirty word. The world has gone mad, as can be seen by the shenanigans taking place across the Atlantic.

So it seems that Theresa May, by the skin of her teeth managed to secure the settlement of the "divorce" at the end of last year, fudging the Irish Question, which will no doubt come back to bite. If only I was more closely related to my Irish ancestry I would most definitely be applying for citizenship. To hell with this country and the way it is going. I don't want to have any part in it.

I'm tired. It's a strain now for me. I have lost interest in a lot of things and look forward to retiring to my bedroom as soon as I can on an evening. I'm no longer travelling. I feel somewhat breathless and last week suffered from a continuous stitch down my left hand side. I just want all this to complete its course. Soon.

I dream of France. The south of France. The warm evenings. The restaurants. The smell of the croissants. Yet here I am trapped in a country whilst I await my donor. The person has no idea what might about to happen to them in order to help me. It's an odd thought.