Self-portrait with Foot

The weather has changed dramatically, as we can see out the window from the drips coming off the roof overhang or balcony or whatever it is. One of the nurses told us it's miserably cold out and that she felt like putting on her 'gansie'.

Developments around the ward: (a) A new face arrived behind the tea trolly. First thing was to Séamus: Tea? Sugar? Yes please, three. Three? No wonder you're in hospital. Then -- I hope yiz all have these menus filled in; otherwise there'll be hell to pay. FInally, we had -- That Rita one probably has you all spoiled rotten. (b) Nurse Adrienne (new to the ward) is grand and all that, and very efficient and helpful and attentive, but she's also old-school, as was demonstrated at its essence by her switching off the lights when lunch was over 'because it's time for your nap'! Duh! Not sure about that, I must say. At least we have our individual lamps, and I certainly switched mine on immediately.

I went for one of my wanders, to the main entrance and out through the front doors for some fresh air. It was chilly and windy and wet, but I stayed there all the same for a while, just for the sake of a change of atmosphere. Lots of visitor activity this afternoon. First, chef-friend Alan arrived. The ward was still in darkness thanks to Adrienne?s routine, so he suggested that we go to the coffee shop to brighten things up. I sat so I could see the corridor and keep an eye out for Carl, and, sure enough,  we weren't long sitting down before I saw Carl and his cross-the-street neighbours passing by. Alan raced after them, so then we were five. Then the phone rang and it was next-door-neighbour Susan?s duaghter Alison, wanting to know where I was. She and her sister were up at the ward, so came back down to join the party, making us seven. They hadn't long left when friend Dave from Bray arrived, also having been up at the ward to begin with and having followed the guys' coffee shop suggestion. We had a grand old chat, at the end of which, thanks to Carl's kind neighbour Ed who'd brought in his 3 Network mobile Broadband dongle, the first thing I did when I got back to the ward was connect it up and try it out. It worked fine for a bit, and I was able to check email.

8.13 pm. Ireland 1, Bulgaria 1 is the score in the World Cup Qualifier. I know because Barney and Séamus shamed me into producing the remote and turning on the TV so they could watch the match. I didn't have a chance to consult John down the other end (he and I have developed into best buddies), so I hope he'll forgive me taking this executive decision. After all, I reasoned, it's only two hours or so, and we've done very well so far. I half told them that ward tradition was to remain TV-free, so perhaps the message got through that this is a rare event, reserved for special occasions only. I may just have messed things up a bit when the game was over and the pundits were doing their thing. Barney waved over and I interpreted this as a request to either lower the volume or switch off altogether. I asked if it was okay to turn it off, and got a glare of disapproval from Séamus. So I backtracked and asked if he wanted to wait until coverage was finished. He said first to turn down the volume, but half-heartedly at best, so I backed off and agreed to leave it on for the 'analysis', which is still on now at 8.50 (with Séamus the only one looking at it). One nasty and unfortunate side-effect of tonight's happening was when forthcoming sport coverage was mentioned, Séamus reacted with enthusiasm when he heard that Dublin were down to play Meath in Croke Park, with the match due for coverage. So there may be a problem in the offing. Still, it's been blissfully peaceful in the ward up until now, so I suppose we can't really complain.

While the football did its thing in the background, I watched the final part of The Long Firm, which Carl had brought in on DVD. I have to say it was all really powerful stuff, culminating in an excellent finish, which I now realise I've seen before. After that I turned to Tinker, Tailor ... and did my best to work out what on earth was happening in the first episode. All in all, it just served to reinforce my long-held opinion that John Le Carré is enormously over-rated; far too wordy and long-winded. I doubt that I'll bother watching any more of the set.