Twas a Star Trek Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas on the Enterprise-D, On a routine short hop to Starbase 03, With Data on duty in the command chair, At Warp 6, the Enterprise soon would be there. Just for something to do while the other crew slept, He scanned where historical records were kept -- And with a blink of his eye and a cock of his head, "Intriguing! Tomorrow is Christmas!" he said. But no one was stirring, and he sought to find why, And so he buzzed Geordi, who awoke with a sigh: "Christmas? It's only an old holiday -- Now just let me get back to sleep, okay?" "But is to wish Merry Christmas not human to do?" And so Data wished it -- to the whole ship and crew. Everyone on the Enterprise awoke from this clatter -- Picard rushed to the bridge to see what was the matter. "What is the meaning of this noise, Mister Data?" "Sir, is it not Christmas--?" "We'll discuss it much later!" Just then Worf said, "Captain -- a Klingon Prey Bird! Its hull has been damaged -- it's uncloaking, sir." "On screen," said Picard, as the Klingon ship hailed: "Federation vessel, our Life Support systems have failed! A strange ship attacked us, inflicting the worst, (though naturally, of course, we'd fired on it first)." The Klingons beamed over, and the senior staff met, To try and determine the source of the threat. Said Picard, "Mister Data, an assignment for you: Give all of these Klingons something to do! They think it's the Romulans we should look for, Get them all off the bridge, before there's a war!" So Data departed, while the rest of the crew Wondered: Romulans? Ferengi? If not them, then who? Said Worf, "Sir -- disturbance on Holodeck Three!" The entire bridge crew ran down there to see. Roared Picard, "Mister Data, what the devil is this!!" "Sir, I have taught the Klingons how to celebrate Christmas." And so there they were -- on holodecks 3, 4 and 5 With synthohol, singing and Rokeg Blood Pie! Soon the Big E was rocking with holiday cheer Friend,foe, and family came from both far and near. The Romulans showed up with some Romulan Ale, The Ferengi brought goodies for free -- not for sale! But a strange ship was coming, the captain was told, With one crew member only, and a huge cargo hold. Said the Klingons, "It's the strange ship that fought us -- attack!" Said Picard, "On Christmas? -- Mister Worf, just hold back." And then as the ship came into view, Onscreen came its captain -- none other than Q! He wore a white beard and a suit of deep red... "Joyeux Noel, mon captain," was what Santa Q said. "Tell those Klingons next time to not go so berserk. You need good defense systems in this line of work. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be warping away... Did you think anyone else could do this job in one day?" "I'm sensing emotion," said Counselor Troi, "Peace in the galaxy, Good Will and Joy." And they stood on the bridge and watched Q take flight, shouting, "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"

THE COOMBE

On Tuesday morning Clare called to collect me and we headed for The Coombe, Lying In Hospital, as it once was, now it is called something like Women and Infants University Hospital. I think I prefer Lying In Hospital.
We found the day ward and checked in with the nurses station.  After checking my file details a little Indian nurse took me down to the ward and showed me my bed.  I had to change into my nightdress and dressing gown and she gave me a disposable knickers to wear. Clare left as soon as I was settled and I lay back on the bed.
I was nervous as hell.  I never had a general anaesthetic before and I had convinced myself that I would die during it or at least be left helpless in some way.  I had prayed to my angels (not Malachy, he is a Macho Angel) to look after me and I had to trust them or I would have run screaming out of the place. 
The nurse came back and went through a list of questions with me, took my blood pressure, which was up (white coat hypertension) and explained to me a little of what would happen. 
Then an anaesthetist Maeve arrived and started to fill in their questionnaire, but this had been done two weeks ago in the Anaesthetic clinic.  She went off and soon after a young doctor, whose name I will not remember because in the 4 minutes or so he was at my bed he did not look at me once. Then Dr Murphy came, she is lovely and a very warm person  she had a look at my file and off she went. The ward sister came then and perused my file and said I should be down within the hour.
There were 6 beds in the ward.  There was an old lady in the bed beside me by the window. Her two sons were with her and her daughter.  The two men were making stupid comments to her and talking on and on, one fella seemed to know it all and just droned on and on and on.  Eventually the ward sister asked them to leave.  THE DAY WARD OF THE COOMBE WOMEN AND INFANTS UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL IS NO PLACE FOR A MAN.  There was another man standing in the hall outside our ward, his wife was across the way in a private ward.  Brenda the nursing care assistant told me later that she had to hunt him out of the women's toilet twice that morning.  A pet hate of mine, men in womens places, like Marks and Spencer lingerie department trying to find a suitable bra and there is always a man somewhere hanging around the department.  I think they should be banned from such places. 
Back to The Coombe.  I lay down on the bed and had a snooze.  About an hour later a little Malaysian nurse came for me to bring me to theatre.  Needless to say the nerves were gone by now,  I just wanted to get it over with.  I was brought into a waiting room and she came back for me in a few minutes.  She took me to the operating theatre and quickly glancing around it was not at all what I expected.  The first thing I noticed was the floor was quiet wet, having just been washed I guess after the previous guest.  They got me up on the operating table, a narrow rubber strip, and put my pillow under my head.  I was not uncomfortable.  One nurse put the large cuffe on my right arm for reading my blood pressure and Maeve the anaesthetic doctor came in and tried to find a vein to put the drip in.  This was not easy, one of the nurses said I should have brought my veins with me, I said it should be on the form, How are your veins?  They asked just about everything else on it.  Over to my right hand and she was much more successful on that one.  The cuffe was changed to my left arm and an oxygen mask placed over my mouth and she asked me to breathe in, She clipped something on the intravenous drip tube and said it was going to feel cold in my arm.  I lay there and thought this is not working and stories of people undergoing surgery while not being completely unconscious came into my head. The next thing I know is someone is calling my name, Bernie, Bernie wake up and I opened my eyes.  I could not believe it was over, my legs felt like lead whatever they had done to them but I felt awake and alert and thanked God.  I was taken back to my bed and given a drink of water and had a nap.  When the drip had finished I went to the loo came back to bed and had tea and brown bread and jam.  A meal fit for a king.  The annoying son was back in to the woman beside me.  She was exhausted, and had to have oxygen when she came around.  She wanted to sleep but he just kept talking to her.  I wanted to slap him, annoying git.  Dr Murphy came around and said that all was well, there was nothing sinister in my womb and she had inserted the coil and that everything should be better for me now.  She gave me a letter for work for three days and said I would get an appointment for 6 weeks time for a check up.  Soon after I got dressed, Clare came for me and I went home. 

The Queen and Me.

I rarely go to town so not having access to the city centre does not upset me  I was travelling back from the south on Tuesday so I waited until the fuss had died down then arrived back in Lucan without delay. 

I watched some of the Queen on RTE and have to say with a sense of pride when she was shown around Croke Park, looked with new eyes at Dublin Castle and the garden of remembrance.  Does this visit offer us an opportunity to look again into our past and realise that what we are today, our traditional warmth and welcome for strangers, our care for each other, our pride in our achievements and love of Irishness is partly due to the years we suffered under the rule of the crown.

We as Irish people have a strong link to our history. Somehow or other we can identify with our ancestors, celebrating mass in secret, in famine times starving and dying while England looked on, being evicted from their homes and only means of living by greedy English landlords and being butchered and killed for wanting a better life for themselves and their families.   Insofar as we as humans are the total sum of our experiences, does it not then follow that as a nation what we are today is as a result of our relationship with England. 

When the Queen walked through the tunnel in Croke Park, a REAL Irish building, with Mary Robinson on one side and Christy Cooney on the other the Irish heart in me said look what we have achieved with little or no help from Britain. The GAA and all it represents is a true monument to what we are as a nation and what we can achieve when people pull together for a common cause. I love my country and I love its people.  The Queen will be leaving tomorrow  and the debates will be ongoing about the behaviour of the Garda, the behaviour of the protesters but like it or not she will have had an effect on the country, good or bad to be seen but our island will be different because of her visit.

You are Home

The verse on my angel Calendar for today;
"You are home, you are safe, and you are loved, now and always."
Very simple little sentence but so apt for me today.  Driving into work this morning I was thinking of a visit I paid to someone recently.  This is a person I have known for many years, a person I love and care for.  In their company I felt safe and very much at home. Places and people in my life may be familiar and known, but there is never the sense of feeling safe and at home except with this person. With them my soul is at peace.

Clean Out

For a long, long time now my hot press was needing a clean. It had become the space to dump everything to perform a quick clean, an Irish style ramit (ram it in the press). It was on my shortlist of things to do before I went back to work next week. Job done with the help of Lisa and Mark.
It is amazing what you find at the back of a hot press. A bag of clothes I had for Mark when he was 2 or 3. Seeing the little shirts and dungarees I had made for him jogged my memory and brought me back to that time when he used to drive his little tykes car. The car was his pride and joy, he spent most of the day in it, sat in it when he was watching telly and I am sure he ate in it too but I dont remember that. He drove it around the house, in through the double doors to the dining room out through the kitchen, down the hall and at the sitting room door he would get out of the car, go to the front of it make some noises and gestures like he was checking the engine and getting back into the car banged the door, always banging the door, then he would head off on his merry way.

He was mad about cars even then, when he was a very small baby he would run the car up and down my arms like they were a road or some kind of track. I did not mind being used as a road, he was away somewhere else at a race somewhere or other in his head.

Now 18 years old he is still car mad. He spends hours and hours racing on the internet, building cars, designing skins and his dream really is to be a F1 racer. He is good at what he does, but he would never boast about it. In his virtual racing world he is still that little 3 year old boy, lost in a world of cars.

God keep him safe.