changes

Its been five and a half months since I wrote on here. Five and a half months of curates eggs (good in parts). so much has changed already- and so much has stayed the same. Health wise I am almost the same; I'm still receiving my infliximab Rx and still living (well, surviving might be a better term) with auto-immune hepatitis.

So much can happen in a month ...

It's been well over a month since I blogged on here - and so much has happened. I'm still coming to terms with my poor health situation, and all its attendant anxieties, but I am feeling, for the most part, brighter (I wrote this yesterday and sepnt today weeping so things are up and down).. Baruch HaShem. Most days I try my best to get out, take some air and see some of God's creation, in Ruskin park, and come home and try and keep awake; with varying degrees of success. I am now signed off until after the holidays (6th January). Last week that felt like it was a blessing, but today it just feels shit. What can I say?

no title

I woke up this morning at 1.50am, hearing the windows (I think) upstiars being opened or shut, and got up to check it out.

I wanted to check whether the miners in Chile had started to be freed from the mine they have been trapped in for the last months ... but decided it was better to hear it at 7am on the radio - and to go back to bed. It was a good decision, but I'm just not sleeping that well at the moment. I'm feeling very very tired lots of the time - so much that even the smallest activity takes it out of me. I suppose on reflection that I did have my treatment yesterday and had a relatively busy time over the last few days when I think about it - busy - yes, but rewarding too. I was so happy that I was able to start my Ba'al Tefillah training, and I think it's going to be a really good thing for me. It's good to have structured space to think about what 'leading prayer services' means and what the skills and attributes one requires are, especially since I have such a great mentor and community to work with. It feels very special, because it feels like a real honour - but also, something that in every obvious sense isn't related to my professional work life. There are of course links. The reason I wanted to work in the health service and train as a nurse twenty two years ago was that I wanted to help people reconnect with themselves and find that special shining unique piece that we all have, despite the conditions, traumas and circumstances we find ourselves in.

So it looks like the miners rescue is going well. I suppose I can't relate to what they have been going through - but I know what is like to feel trapped - in a relationship that wasn't working, in a job I have no connection with, with health problems I can't seem to shift - and for some reason the plight of the miners really got got to me. I joyfully added a shehechianu to my morning prayers this morning to thank God for helping all those who helped the miners escape. I know they aren't all out, but it's looking positive. Baruch HaShem.

Anyways - a little schluff is in order now I think, more later ....

things are starting to look up

This week already feels better than last week, Baruch HaShem. I started today (Monday) with a visit from one of my lovely pals from work, and a delivery from Australia (including a civil partnership invitation for two of my best friends, Nicky & Carolyn). How lovely. I made it into Shul this last weekend too, to the shabbat service. I realized just how much I'd missed it, and was delighted to be asked up for an Aliyah for the Torah reading. It just brought me back, to knowing that my life is in my hands, but also in the hands of HaShem, and that is a blessing. This morning I heard something on the radio (4) - a reading from Kahil Gibran's 'the prophet' about joy and sorrow - 'your joy is your sorrow unmasked, and the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears, and how else can it be? the deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain ... remember that when one sits alone with you at your board, the other is asleep upon your bed.

Anyways, it really moved me. as did the beautiful pink roses that Lynny brought and her company, and everything in this beautiful, sad but amazing world we live in.

Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu melekh ha olam, shehechiani, v'kiamanu, v'higianu, lazman hazeh!

devastation

I thought today was going to be it. Finally to get the answers. That's what they promised me. The liver consultant told me that the only way they could differentiate between the 5 or 6 possible causes of my elevated LFT's was the biopsy and so, reluctantly I agreed.

This morning I woke at 6am in pain and anxiety. I could hardly wait for the results and I was outside liver out-patients before it even opened. I wasn't even thinking about the pain clinic and all the rest of the shit.

'It's inconclusive' said the nice young registrar

'what do you mean inconclusive?' says I?

'They weren't able to tell from the biopsy what is causing the elevation in your ALT AST and GGT. We already knew you had chronic hepatitis and that's still all we know - it might be the infliximab, but the infliximab might have changed the course of an auto-immune hepatitis that was existing'

After all the anguish, anxiety, pain and fear I'm no further. I say to him 'the reason I agreed to the procedure was that the other registrar told me that if these LFT's remained high like this long term that I would develop cirhossis - - - so what is the answer?

'We dont know what is it that is causing the elevation like I said, currently there is s small amount of scarring and fibrosis and I'll have to talk to the histopathologist to see if he asked the right questions from the sample and I'll call you in the next week or so, otherwise we'll see you back in clinic in 2 months'

The histo report reads like a death sentence to me, and a long painful one at that, just like Caro's. Im just too devastated to think what to do next, truly ...

Pain clinic was a pain, a two our wait, but some reasonable solutions were put forward including non drug stuff but she advised to stick wih butrans patches too.

I just think now that everyone has come to the end with me: I am ruining Murat's life day by day hour by hour, and my Mothers too. I'm too fed up. I want to go to Forge valley and be 10 again riding my grifter through the valley. What have I done with this body, this life? I squandered it. I wasted it, ... the apple never falls far from the tree does it?

Keeping going and seeing the red in the leaves outside

It's a struggle to keep up at the moment, and I feel such a burden to everyone - a let down, a failure - maybe I am more like my old man than I like to admit. Maybe my Mother was right about that. Murat is at the end of his tether with it all - as am I. I was meant to be teaching my new medical/nursing student interprofessional group, guest editing an international edition of a journal this month, organizing a book contract with two dear colleagues and - the big one - doing an NIHR grant bid with two important colleagues, and that's just the work bit.. I've missed so much being in my Shul, I've messed up a service that I was meant to be leading in the coming week. Just one thing I did on Friday - walked to my GP practice - to collect a sick note - nothing in comparison to what I normally do in a day- and then spent the whole of shabbat evening in severe pain. It's just so bloody wearing. I'm sick of talking about it, and that's why I'm writing it all down here, venting it out ...

On the upside I'm developing a new prayer relationship with HaShem, a more regular one - and that helps, actually a lot. I'm asking the eternal one for perseverance, I want to keep going, I really do.

thinking about a dignified means to an end

Well after all, all these days - I'm no longer hopeful that I will be actually be able to find a solution for my chronic pain that works, and I am very seriously considering taking matters into my own hands. As it turns out the preferred method is administration of prochlorperzine (stemetil) and then thirty minutes later administration of 15grams of nembutal (pentobarbital) dissolved in a glass of fruit juice, sleep follows and eternal sleep within thirty minutes. This seems like a really good solution - dignified, peaceful and final, the final release from the pain - that nothing else seems to take away.

I have always been totally and utterly opposed to euthanasia - not because I disagree with suicide, but because I've always thought people can get good care and live pain free and dignified lives, ... it's just that in the last few months my view has definitely changed. I hope it's not too much of a shock to people. Last night I suppose was the final straw. After a short walk only, to the GP's surgery to collect a sick note, I spent an evening in agony - even though I was wearing the buprenorphone patch. I don't believe in the afterlife either, I think this is what we get, this life. But you know I have lived more of a life in my 42 years than many people do in 80+ years, so in the final analysis - it's a decision that isn't actually that hard to come to. I'm willing to see how things go for another few weeks, but after that, and I know this is a thing that would have to be totally on my own, - I know there is no family member or friend who would support me through this - I am going to seek a consultation with dignitas (I'd prefer it to be in Holland actually and think they have a similar system). I couldn't bear any loved one being prosecuted for releasing me from this painful nightmare I find myself in everyday now. So. Let's see. I love this time of year - the bright blue skies and crisp days, and can't think of a better time to go.

London is the best city in the world, innit

I used to moan about London (actually when I lived in Peckham), oh this and oh that, blah blah - the poverty, the gangs, the teenagers, etc etc - but in the last few years since we moved into RPH I have to say I am a really proud Londoner. I wear it as a badge of honour. I am a northerner, born and bred, but now I've spent far longer in London than I have anywhere else in my life (coming upto half my life here) and I love it, in all its dirt, cleanliness, irritation, crowdedness and solitude, diversity and difference. I wouldn't live anywhere else, and nowhere else is as good as London - in a nutshell. Last year, or whenever it was, that fuckwit Nick Griffin from the BNP was on question time (a whole debate in itself - should an out and out fascist be allowed on an established political tv show) he said the next day that London had been 'ethnically cleansed' of english/british people and it enraged me. Now I just think the guy is a fucking idiot and doesnt deserve the brain space to even engage with, because actually in this beautiful city there are 300+ languages spoken, there are Jews, Christians, Muslims, Rastafarians, Buddhists, Atheists, ... hookers, bankers, drug dealers, doctors, rabbis, nurses, bus drivers, barmen, park rangers ... the list could go on, .. but the point is despite the best efforts of the media to whip us up into a state of terror and constant anxiety, people rub along together pretty bloody well all being said. Still, the rich irritate the rest of us - the chelsea tractor brigade, but that's just a given, right? London, you just cannot beat it ... Shabbat Shalom, peter xx 01/10/10

So, here I am days, even weeks into my latest episode of being ill - poked, prodded and pricked - scanned, reported and having heard inane phone music many many times whilst waiting to speak to medical secretaries, etc etc, but you know, that's life and it ain't all bad. When I think of the kind of treatment my Uncle Paul in Manchester has had I feel blessed to have a most outstanding GP, Amr Zeineldine - a man who actually listens, and gives options and always treats one as I imagine he would like to be treated himself.

The cold weather is setting in now in London, and I see the trees rustling in the cold breze outside the window as I type this, and the colours change on the trees from the vivid greens to the crisp orange and browns of the fall. The sky has lost that hopeful bright tall blue foreverness, and is heavy and oppressive. Ruskin park starts closing earlier and earlier now, until we reach the 3.30pm closure of deep December. Anyways, that's all for now folks. I leave you feeling incredibly grateful for a wonderful partner and family and friends and colleagues, and a life more incredible and beautiful than I ever could have imagined it would be, peterxxx

So what's new?

What's new is that my liver biopsy is over - I have a large dressing on my right side and a piece of my liver is now residing in a lab across the the road at kings being looked at by boffins. Baruch HaShem it went well, from a point of view of the procedure - and now I just have to wait for the results, along with the results of the MRI scan (the nightmare procedure) of last week. So what is my view? Well the staff of Kings, from the lovely nurse (Alfred) who did the pre-assessment, to the lovely doc who did the biopsy two days ago were just great. Dedicated, professional, helpful and most importantly kind. They actually seemed interested in making sure I was monitored, comfortable and doing ok. It totally restored my faith in both Kings College Hospital and the NHS. Opposed to that bloody awful experience I had in the private clinic last week in Golders Green. I tell you, I thank G-d for people who devote themselves to the care of others. Yes, it's true to say that we are paid quite well these days (in comparison with days gone by) but still, theres much easier, less stressful and demanding work that one can do - yet still people work in the health and care field. G-d bless them, everyone.

People seem to get such a kick out of slagging the NHS off - but in these last few weeks that I have been unwell, flaring and generally being at the end of my tether they have been wonderful. I could not have asked for anything different or better.

the MRI scan

So today I had to go upto Golders Green for an MRI scan of my thoracic and lumbar spine. I got the call yesterday and thought to myself, 'wow, how efficient of UCH - its only been 2 weeks and here I am getting the scan done already'. It was a shitty day today, cold, rainy and dull - but I set off for Golders Green (joking to myself that I'd be able to get a nice challah for tonight), negating the fact that's its fucking miles away.. anyways, I made the train from Denmark Hill at 12.54 and got to St Pancras, to transfer to the tube upto Golders Green. It's only when you have mobility issues that you appreciate the amount of stairs and lack of lifts in our tube system in London. Not even that. KX is brand spanking new station, oh there are lifts, but its like finding the end of the rainbow = impossible. Anyways, I made it upto Golders Green and tried to find a bakery, forgetting that because its Sukkot everything is shut, So I walk for 20 agonizing minutes along Finchley Road to the 999 medical centre for the scan. A large private house converted into a medical scanning and counselling centre. I enter as a very wealthy young female doctor is leaving and shouting back something about her new beamer to some minion on the desk. I enter and say I am a bit early, but that shabbos is coming and I wonder if they can see me a bit early. 'Oh no, the contract states that ...." I zone out. Talk of contracts is the last thing I need. 'Would you like a drink? hot chocolate, tea, coffee" - no, I say, I'll just wait for the scan. 'Actually you wont be seen early and we may even be a bit late', 'ok I say, I'll have a tea then please. 'Actually we've run out of milk'. Fine, whatever. Sorry Mr Phillips, sorry .. I say 'if you are going to call me by title its Dr Phillips, otherwise Peter is just fine'. I can feel their hackles rising ...

I go through to the scan after a long wait. Its pissing down with rain outside and as they asked me not to use pain control today before the scan I'm in considerable pain and its starting to really get to me. I can't get comfortable and the thoughts of the journey home are starting to pre-occupy me. 'Take all your clothes off, put on the gown and wait there'. I do so whilst they discuss the brain tumour of the young woman who went just ahead of me. 'such a shame' I can hear them saying ....
Eventually I go into the machine. 'have you had this before she asks?' yes, but years ago .. classical or pop? (for the earphones), 'classical please' (but she puts pop (rap actually) anyways. How long I ask? 20 minutes tops. Then it begins. Its like being buried alive and listening to them dig your grave whilst you are in the box. Various different noises, but so loud that my wedding ring vibrates. I open my eyes to find the top of the machine is a few centimetres away from my nose. 'Table moving now' comes through into the machine 'what do I do with my hands?' I think. .. I try my best to think of happy times and remember I only have a few minutes to go. The noises change from bang bang bang, to drill drill drill, to ultra quick to very slow, all the loudest thing I ever did hear. Horror, shock. I start to feel like to want to cry and that I want my Mum.

I start to feel a boiling hot sensation under my back. 'is that normal, I wonder but there is no one to ask and no one has prepared me for this. 45 minutes later it stops and she pulls me out 'you can go now'. Thats it? I ask? Yes, your report will be sent to UCH in 2 2weeks. But I'd like a copy, - well thats not possible, our contract is with UCH. But I have rights as a patient, no? 'with UCH but not with us'.
This is private medicine, and this is radiology/radiography. Pathologists have more communication skikls ...

updating, giving the news, eating the space

Since I've been ill this time I've become acutely aware that after I started talking about it (I didnt for ages - it was too depressing) that it seems to take up virtually all my conversation with people, and it really pisses me off. I was talking with my Rabbi about this lately and she said that she knew someone who said to her friends 'if you want to know about my health stuff look at my blog' and I have to say, its a bloody good idea. Its like a repository for all the crap - leaving my conversation free to focus on all the other bits of my life. Maybe I should do that?

the stick

So I've been walking with my stick the last few days - and it generally has an effect on how people respond to you - one thing is that when you are sitting down there is never a good place to store it, it always falls over - sometimes people pick it up and give it, and sometimes they don't. One things Ive noticed is that people tend to stand up if seating is an issue, but still if you are on the bus and an older person wants my seat (even when Im clutching the stick) the expectation is that I stand and give the seat up (which I generally do as I believe older people largely deserve respect). It's an interesting thing for an urban anthropologist like me ...

Good shabbes everyone

Friday 24th September 2010

Where has the month gone? It seems like yesterday that I got home from eretz Israel, and its been a weird old time. My life seems to be slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. Health has been a real problem, and for the first time I stood and felt that this body God gave me was done - and all the shit I've done against it, all the bad feelings Ive had about it (size, shape, weight etc etc) felt ridiculous and I held onto it like a precious stone. It's all I have after all.

Now I'm waiting for an MRI scan (this afternoon), a liver biopsy (Monday) and a pain clinic appointment at Kings. Ive decided that I have to reduce my working hours - by two days, so that I work three days a week for the foreseeable future. I have yet to convince work that this is a good idea, but it is the only way forward I think ...

So, Shabbat comes in later today, bring it on I say ...

Arrest the fucker

so the poop is winging his evil way here on his broomstick. fucking bastard, and my tax pounds are paying for the scum to come and preach hate on the streets on London. he hates women, likes to protect child molesters (catholic so called priests), blames all the worlds problems on gays. Oy vey. can we arrest the fucker for crimes against humanity? lets try him in the hague????

can't seem to shake it off

It's been more than a month since I wrote on my blog. It's been one of the worst months of my life - getting a hideous shock over my blood results and thinking I either have Lymphoma or AIDS (my lymphocytes dropped below normal). All I could do was drink and take pain killers, thereby worsening my already sick liver, but I thought you know, fuck it, this is all I can manage. To make matters even worse I am, as always, upto my nipples in work that should already have been completed ages ago. There is just no let up. Never. The trouble is that life seem made up of moments like this 90% of the time at the moment, and then fleeting odd moments of semi happiness. I feel angry all the time, furious with everyfuckingbody and everyfuckingthing. All I want is just to look after myself, alone, here in my house, with Rani and the rising and setting of the sun. I ask myself: is this it? is this, in the words of the Jack Nicholson film, 'as good as it gets?'. If so, its just not enough. I feel at the precipice of a big change. Not just with work and my decision to reduce it to 3 days, but really big changes. The last time I felt like this I packed in my job and moved to San Francisco to be with Aaron, yet another total fucking disaster. I guess my realization now is that the common factor in all this is ME. I'm the problem, not the situations or people, but me. I'm just so utterly fed up and it's not depression, it's me. It's like I have a congenital mental problem that kicks in when it feels like it. On the surface its all good: friends, faith, marriage, doctorate, job, publications, travel, ... but bubbling underneath is a seething mass of shit, confusion and loneliness. I don't feel like this will ever really be that different, after all, I'm at the top of the mountain now right? Sometimes I really think I would be better off just going out one morning and just never returning. Just fucking off and leaving all this shit Ive collected behind and trying to find some peace somewhere. Anyways, has this rant made me feel any better? no, not really, but anyways - that's my problem (actually its just me again). peter. 05.09.10 London

discombobulation

I can't seem to get back on track since my early return from Israel .... the days seem to be flying by, and as yet I haven't even properly unpacked and sorted things out. Things seem a little 'unreal' to me, even though I'm at home, and with all my usual things and people. I guess I'm kind of freaked out still about not having that last week (and am kind of regretting that)

Is it good for the neshama to long for something?

So here I am, back. Back in England after five weeks in the land of milk and honey. Im sad and happy simultaneously - sad to have left Jerusalem, my beautiful city, the Yeshiva, my friends and that wonderful sense I woke with daily - but happy to be home again with Murat. Everything feels very unreal to me at the moment. It felt unreal as I left Israel yesterday. Ive never done that before (booked a flight and left on the same day). It felt like I was ripped out of my life there, I didn't get to say goodbye to people and places, I just left. Weird. I'm kind of too freaked out to write more at the moment, peter 26/07/10 (London)

Smash the fascist heteronormative orthodoxy

It's weird that I've reached 42 and up to now not really held this view - but I realize now that the way that the whole society is constructed, in it's entirety is for straight people/heterosexuals. Others are tolerated- even accepted at times in history/other cultures etc, but thats all it is : tolerance. That tolerance is easily tested - and in my recent experience, at work (in the mental health department at least), in Shul, and with straight so called 'friends' even when gay people are wonderful and amazing (and I'm not saying we all are all the time) we are never quite as good as straights.

So how does this all work? Let's take an example from a recent meeting at work, where all the (straight) men sit back talking about football (in that newly constructed man way that only nauseating liberal-left 'meterosexual man' types can..). That talk is excluding - it excludes many gay men who have often not felt comfortable in the sports arena. It excludes others too ... people of different abilities etc. What else - last year at Gay Pride I wrote an email to my department at work (who really should be sensitive to gay and lesbian issues but in fact are about as sensitive as a brick) and although it was accepted the chief of the tormentors wrote an email back to the department saying something like 'and lets remember all those discriminated against because they are mentally ill'. NO. They have their own day- that wasn't the point - it's like it can't be accepted that we as lesbian/gay and trans people should have and deserve our own PRIDE day without qualifying it in some other world that straights can relate to. This has made me, on principle, never attend department meetings anymore - and now I feel the need to become more active in regard to these very crucially important issues. I have never felt so excluded and disenfranchised in my life...

Kas 2009

we fell in love all over again in Kas :) what a fantabulous trip

Hard slog

How do people keep going day in day out, year in year out in jobs that they find horrifying? I wish I knew? Just the thought of going into the office, all that bullshit and self important nonsense and feigned interest makes me want to throw up .... but they must (find a way, that is). This is life and all its complexity I suppose ...

thats life, thats what all the people say

It's like that isn't it? when stuff is happening it's often too busy to write on the blogsite- well it's been like that with me anyways.

This year has been mega mega mega hectic, and a real emotional trip for me. We are only in month seven and I've been in Berlin, Amsterdam twice, Mexico, San Francisco and Israel. I've met some new and exciting people and have come to some fairly monumental decisions about my life, work and the future. Yes, it is time, after 21 years of this shit to finally close the door, in fact slam it shut. The 'mental health' business has, it's true, been good for me in some ways (travel largely), but at such a high price- that I cant afford - and don't want to pay any longer. It's too stressful and unpleasant in so many ways. Its too unpleasant to go into why- except to offer a little insight maybe- the clinical work is now literally like a punishment, with macho posturing managers, risk assessment paperwork that threatens staff within an inch of their lives, aggressive patients (who wouldnt be aggressive in that kind of environment- I'm tempted myself), etc etc- the academic world is even sicker if thats possible- the 'in and out' crowd, the sycophancy, the constant search for money, the huge egos and terrible impending pressure that if you step off for one minute it's all over. And thats just the research bit. The teaching bit is even worse if that's possible. Run ragged by a load of middle aged general nursey types who would be more at home on a hospital ward/office- trying to justify their existence by making everyone else look like shit. Just not a world I want anything to do with anymore... that's it. Finito! Kaput. Over...

I wasn't designed for such pressure and horror - I have an innate ability to see the beauty in life, in people, in nature - so what do I do to myself? Surround myself with urban squalor, abuse, violence and madness. My poor spirit cant take it. I need to find myself again, need to look inside and find who me be?

December daze

Central Park, November 2008

Its been a while since I posted on here .... ah, I dunno. Stuff going on, work stuff, a conference gig and visit to NY, a bereavement ... stuff. Its been busy you know?! annnnnnnyways, its all good and I'm spending a few daze having some legitimate me time - you know, dollying around the house, looking in and reorganizing the contents of drawers and wardrobes, shoes, throwing out (or recycling in fact) last weeks papers. Thinking about new year, always a bummer for me, never fantastic, although this one should be interesting ... since we will have a joyce or two, and hopefully Sel and Mark too ...

But you know, its just a bummer of a time, all that enforced joviality and alcohol, ... tends to leave me cold. Id rather go to bed and wake up to a new year honestly ... so, Im now watching Mastermind, and the geezer is being asked questions about "The Human Body' ... so cool. (well now a different guy is doing football questions. How fascinating. Not)

So 2008 is about to end, the year I became 40, started to notice grey hairs and wrinkles and started feeling really tired lots. I am in a different place at the start of 2009, and hope to make some positive changes ... these are my goals for the year, the year that I am a hottie of harm rediction (the 2009 calendar!) ...

gelukkig nieuwjaar

Mea Sharim

I didn't take any pictures in Mea Sharim last shabbat, because it was shabbat- and also because the people of Mea Sharim ask visitors not to take pictures ... and I guess I can relate to that, fishbowl thing. I sometimes think its like that when people want to visit hospitals or mental health facilities etc ..... annnnnnnyways. I did find some pictures of Mea Sharim which I think reflected how I found it when I was there. I have to say, despite the fact that I was in a group of three gay men, the Mea Sharim folks were friendly, with three wishing us a good shabbos- and offering to help find an address ... so. There it is.

The first picture shows youngsters with payot (the ringlets of hair at the sides)- when we were in Mea Sharim, Yossi told me that in the first days of the state of Israel, the government sponsored the cutting of the payot ! as part of a new Jewish identity ... an interesting conversation ...

whats up with blogger??

all the text below has gone crazy (as the more observant of you will have noticed) but hope you can work it out from the pics and the text ... it's a game of mix and match ...

peterx

שנה טובה מירושלים

Home again, after a really wonderful trip back in Israel - what a week! I feel like I was away a month it was so full, and yet also very restful! I felt a very different connection this time ... I think because I was lucky enough to stay with friends in Jerusalem, and have the insight into regular Israeli life that brings, aside of course from the warm hospitality and good company too ..


תל אויו

I got to Tel Aviv very late on Saturday night, and quickly settled into the Metropolitan Hotel, (which is very nice and fairly priced)- started the next day with a great Israeli breakfast followed by a swim and then some shopping in the Shuk HaCarmel, the colours and smells are amazing, big chunks of Halva, bright and fragrant flowers, bags of spices, breads, cheeses and olives, and fish and and and ... so much. Went to a great cafe (Dinitz, pic below), for lunch ... and the amazing Orna and Ella on Sheinkin Street for dinner. The yam pancakes and chive and yoghurt dressing are incredible. I ventured out to Evita (a rather pretentious gay bar where the oldest other patrons were about 25!!), for Eurovision night ...
















The next day started once again with 30c heat and the inevitable swim in the sunshine, such a wonderful way to start the day ... I found a lovely cafe on the corner of Frishman and Ben Yehuda streets, and ate burekas (Borek) and tahini with salad for lunch there ... yum yum. Ezra came over from Jerusalem in the afternoon and we went swimming, my first time in the sea for ages ... all lovely and restful. In the evening, I met a friend who had made Aliyah from Argentina four years ago, and had a very nice supper and long talk with him - about making Aliyah, what it's like moving to Israel, integration etc etc. All very interesting ...














Tuesday started with a trip to Ben Gurion's house in Tel Aviv which was wonderful for a 30's architecture freak like me




































In the afternoon Yehuda came from Jerusalem for swimming and late lunch, a warm friendly sea! The day finished with supper at Orna and Ella again (its addictive!), and a frantic packing ready for the move the following day ....

ירושלים

The trip really began for me on wednesday when I took the sherut from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. Those few days were just wonderful, and I felt so very at home there, in community with friends - so amazing. I met Yehuda at his place in Rehavia, and left my luggage before we left for the Israel Museum (pics below). The Megillot Yam HaMelach (dead sea scrolls) were incredible - (and the room where they were so cool thankfully ..). Later that day, after meeting Yehuda's lovely Grandma (Hannah), I spoke with a friend of Yehuda about the scrolls, and the essenes ... very interesting. Thank-you Ofir .. wondering around those grounds, and taking in the scale model of Jerusalem in the second temple period (pics below) was great, if a little hot at times ...




























































After the museum Yehuda and i went shopping at Kikar Zion, on Ben Yehuda street, where I bought a shofar (which I have had no luck blowing since ...) and some gifts for people. I laid tefillin that afternoon, (and on the other days to by the kotel which is a little more inspiring than a shopping street!)















On Wednesday night I went to Ezra's place, where I stayed until I left Jerusalem on sunday morning ...

Thursday I went walking around the Old City, a wonderful and amazing thing to do, to take in all the activity, people, heat, stones, and of course ... HaKotel











































HaKotel














Ezra had written an exam on thursday, so thursday night was a simcha! food and beer from a small Palestinian village near Nablus, called Tibei (dont know if I spelled that right ..) with two friends, sat outside in the new city ..

Friday was wonderful- I met Binyamin and Avi in the morning for brunch (a lovely and friendly couple who are friends from the shul here in London) and Ezra and I went to the Kotel for the Ma Ariv service, which was both deeply emotional and spiritual, and spectacular ... we formed a minyan with others, and went quite rapidly through the service ... after which we went back to Yehuda's for shabbat supper- I lit the candles and sang the berachot with real energy and joy that night ....


Saturday started with all good intentions to get to Kol Haneshama, but tiredness had kicked in, and I did as instructed on shabbat: REST

This said, Ezra once again made a beautiful shabbat lunch, which friends and family came to. I felt so part of things there, and it was really a beautiful meal and chatter ... (see pics below).
Later in the day Yossi and Yehuda and I went walking in the city, into Mea Sharim, which is where a good friend (Caro and Peretz) lived near to ... very interesting area ..


Rehov Strauss, a rest stop from the heat (33c!!) on way to Mea Sharim, on shabbat (06/09). Yehuda and Yossi











just like it says - Jerusalem Great Shul















Along King David Street in Jerusalem, is the Montefiore Windmill, which contains a small museum on the life of the British philanthropist Sir Moses Montefiore (1784-1885). In the middle of the 19th century Montefiore bought the area round the windmill and founded the first Jewish settlement outside the Old City (Mishkenot Sha'ananim). At the end of the century the area to the north, Yemin Moshe, was also built up; it is now an artists' quarter.





שּׁבת
Shabbat lunch at Ezra's 06/09/08



L-R Ezra, Yehuda, Yossi, Micah, Rivka, Sammy

the world keeps turning ...

Hard when terrible things happen- and the world keeps turning, even though one might feel like shouting, stop so I can get off! Somewhere everyday something terrible is happening for someone, and its not easy to gloss over it if you are me.

I guess there has to be some kind of comfort in knowing that things continue when we don't as human beings?

Barcelona baby!

was kinda strange ....

I didn't totally click with the place instantly as it felt like I was in the amazon heat wise, (and humid!), and it felt a little prissy to be honest. This said, we had a great time for the most part, although Murat would have liked the beach more ... thinking back over the last few days, we've done some nice and interesting things (pics below), la rambla, markets, old synagogue etc etc ... have a look ...