Dec. 25, 2022
I am going crazy with this new windows 11. It
has buggered up my whole system, addresses and all. And all the blog entries
sins June 14. I had a blog for today and it just disappeared, along with lots of
others. I hope my guru, Fr. Proud, an find them. They must be around somewhere.
Have a blessed Christmas season and a hope-full 2023.
Dec, 16, 2022
I have had 3 sessions with the physiotherapist,
KIARA, each time giving me another exercise to do twice a day, before she comes
back next time,,,,,,//Tuesdays and Thursdays, 8qm to 9 . Wonder of wonders, the
bowels have started to move again and some of the muscle in the left leg is
coming back.
I
don’t know how many times I have started my Christmas letter and it just seems
to disappear and I can’t find it. So here
we go again. Let me put this in the blog before it gets lost too. Blessings on
you all for your love Nd support.
Good news.
The new diet is working. I have had 2 BMs in the last 2 weeks. Hooray.
We are making progress. My niece also sent some money, so I made an appointment
with a physiotherapist to make a home visit for a reasonable charge, It seems
that the muscle in my left leg is disappearing because it gets no exercise. I
have to find some exercises to get it back again. I hope it is possible. I also
have to start my dear everyone Christmas letter, It all sounds so normal but I
can hardly walk now and everything has to be carefully preplanned. Lots of love
to you all and keep the prayers coming.
Cas
DEC. 2, 2022
Dr. Govender, in my meeting with him on Tuesday
the 29th, said I am malnourished and going down ….porridge in the
morning and soup afternoon and evening
had me starving he said and the body was pulling energy to exist from the
muscles. ( half the calf muscles are already gone, ) and he prescribed for me a
whole new diet, something that is impossible at mariannhill 1. Muesli every day 2. 3 fruits every day. 3. Drink 3 raw eggs a day (full of the
protein I need) 4. Lots of Greek salad
5. 2 litres of water every day,
that , hopefully will get me up and back to normal. He himself ordered
some special protein drink cartons, and is trying to get me into a program
where I CAN GET HOSPITAL ATTENTION OR A WEEK, WHERE THEY WILL GIVE ME A DRIP WITH ALL THE NUTRIENTS NY BODY NEEDS,
He strongly hinted that I was on the way out. Wow. He scared me, but also
impressed me with his TLC, his PA, Melissa, is also, searching for ways to get
free care. Lots of people are trying their best for me. I am really touched,
moved, by their concern and real efforts to help somehow.
I
want to apologize too for 2 things. 1.
I stole, borrowed money for this new diet fom the fund for the poor, I hope
that the donors will forgive me, 2. I
received so many birthday wishes and blessings that I am unable to answer each
and every one. I just say thank you to you all, and God bless you for you love
and concern and friendship. I thanked God for my 87 full years of beautiful
people (all of you), and look forward to more beautiful people in my 88th
yr,
Again, God bless you all and man many thanks for your love. Cas
Nov, 27, 2022
It is a long story. I Wanted able to have a bm
for a long time till ai finally asked a friend to admit me to st. Marys hosp.
here at Mariannhill to have a professional give me an enema ( we tried many things
at home with practically no results. I had three strong enemas and again, no
results, finally was released to go to a doctor at another private hospital who
told me to take 4 sachets of picoprep (the stuff they ask you to take to flush
the system. Well, the system was flushed and the colonoscopy was a great
success….clean, clean, clen like a new born baby, even some technicolour pictures
of my innards. That was Thursday the 17th nov.
Till now , no movement….back to square one. St. marys let me out on passout to get the report for the colonoscopy, which I did and I have an appointment with the doctor who did the job to see where we can go from here. (I hope there is a way forward without another colonoscopy, which I can’t afford). I will see him on Tuesday, Nov. 29. Then back to st. Marys for follow up. A problem is that we are mixing two unmixable systems….private and public hospitals …two different systems. Private, good but way out of our budget, and public, good but slow and free or very low cost. It was maddening and frustrating in st. Marys…no internet…no communication with the outside world for almost 2 weeks. I will only know on Tuesday if there is a way forward and what it might be. Keep the prayers coming.
I will let you all know what is and has
been happening if I have the energy. I haven’t had solid foo, with a few
exceptions, for over 2 weeks now. Only soup and mealie porridge, lots and lots
of water, some clear apple juice and black coffee or tea to drink. I lost lots
of weight I weigh 51 kg (about 113 lbs.) In 2018 my normal weight was
150 lbs, or 70 kg. If anybody of you wants to lose weight, I have the secret. I
will keep you posted when I get a chance, LOL and more, Cas
Oct. 25, 2022
I don’t knowhow time can go so fast. I wanted
to say for the whole week that a serious dent was made in our family when my uncle
cas (Casey) passed away just over a week ago. He ws the last of the 14 kid in
the Chmielewski family (Aunt Rose was the second last). It is hard to say who
was my favorite undle because there was not a bad one in the bunch, but maybe because
he was closest to me in age (of the 14) but I thin he was my favourite, that’s
why I took his name for my religious name. I think his kids and all us cousins
loved him a lot. He was just a good man. He was 96 when he died and I am 87,
just 9 yrs. difference. I admired him , among other reasons because he built
his own house, from digging the basement to doing the plumbing and electricity
along with the usual help from the local guys giving a hand…You know, put a cas
of beer out and a few snacks on Saturday and watch the house go up. That was
the spirit In those days….all the neighbors pitched in and helped each other.
Maybe it still works that way but it is long since I have been in the States to
notice. It still happens in the villages here in Africa but too many are becoming
westernized here too and people are getting more individualistic. But I sad
event sorry that it took me so long to
mention this sad event in our family history. To make it more totally relevant
for non-family members, he was one of my many great mentors. I wanted to be
like him. Let me put this in my blog before I forget for another two weeks. I
forget lots of things but I thank God that I still remember my name, and it is
not just….hey you. Ha. Lots of love to
you all till next time the sprit moves.
Oct. 17, 2022
Let me just throw this little bit in while it
is fresh in my mind.
You know , I said after a few days after the
failure of our hope at Luthuli, that I was down, down, down, down, just a bit above depression. However, after a
few days I knew that it was not the end of the story. I don’t Have clue what the end of the story will be, (maybe
it is my faith speaking now) and God being the jokester that s/he is , something totally unexpected is going to pop
up and God will have the last laugh.
Oct. 5, 2022
Picking up from where we left off at the
Luthuli hospital neurological clinic. While we were waiting to be called, I saw
that the clinic was full, mostly with mothers with children, mostly babies.
I was parked in my wheelchair at the wall on
the left and I saw two mothers with their
1 yr. old babies opposite me and both babies had head as big as
watermelons. I felt so sorry of them (encephalitis) with their problems and
ashamed with my minor, non-life threatening problem.. At least I had time to
pray for them, to have the strength and love to be able to handle the daily
demands that these children will make on them. My partner, Michelle, was the
only white, besides me, but she had no problem communicating with the other
women and nurses in the clinic. To be like that in South Africa is rare and a
gift.
Finally we were called and were shown to a room with a junior doctor who
examined my case. First, he made it clear that they don’t do Baclofen pump
operations at Luthuli, although both Neurosurgeons (one a friend and classmate
of our family doctor and the other, the one who got us into Luthuli in the
first place whose children’s godparent is Michelle , who accompanied me both
knew that that is the reason we were going there and both of them were heads of
the neurological dept. in their time and one of them presently..
the doctor made a few checks with my leg and
eventually wrote a report that made it
clear that the pump was not an option. He gave a form for another MRI if we
wanted to book an appointment for that. We were called to him just after 12
noon and left him, disappointed, about 12:30. So, that was that. I kind of
expected that but it didn’t really hit until Friday and Sunday when I really felt
down, as I said earlier.
So I
Made the decision to put it out of my mind completely and just get on with life
without bothering our friends
neurosurgeon friends any more as I felt that it wasn’t fair to stretch the
friendship any more than we already had. They had tried their best. So we just
let go and let God s the AA slogan goes, sure that it’s not the end of the
story and it will come one day as a surprise.
That
night I went to bed at 6pm and slept till 12 midnight, hade a pee and went back to sleep till 5 am and
again till 7:30 and spent most of the day lying down, having no energy,
psychologically, emotionally, ;physically exhausted. The first time I slept
through the night I months, never feeling the spasms.
So. As for most people with problems that don’t
seem to be solvable, we just take it a day at a time.
Nothing new for most of you.
Oct. 4, 2022
I have not finished what I
wanted to say abour my visit ti Lurthuli Hospital, but I just got busy. So here
is something to feed on in the meantime. See you later,
Sept. 26, 2022
Well my thoughts revolve
around the failure to make any headway at the Luthuli Central hospital.. We (I
plus others)_ had hoped that we would have been given the ok to have a baclofen
pump installed, which would have eased
off or eliminated the spasms. Bu we were told that there are no such ops at
this hospital any more.
I had thought that I had
prepared myself d for a negative response,
but I was emotionally and psychologically exhausted. Feeling down is the word. Not
quite depressed, but close. However. Let me explain a few things.
Chief Albert Luthuli Central
Hospital is the highest you can go in hospital care. If you are referred to
Luthuli by another lesser hospital, and get oked by the staff at Luthuli for an
op, all is free. Cancer , heart,
kidneys, etc. the best of the
best are here.
When you make the
appointment, you are given a number and a date. When you arrive on your date
you show the guard your number and he refers you to the next person. When he
sees your number, he checks his info and gives you another number which will be
called out and shown on a board as in air terminals. We ( a friend kindly
volunteered her time for the day with me---the one whose friend is the
neurosurgeon who arranged this appointment) arrived about 7:30am and our number
was called at 9:10am. We were told to go to counter 4. That is where the normal
information is taken that will be your file from now on. You are then given
your precious hospital card with your patient number for all future visits. We
were then sent to the neurological clinic full of other people and again you
hand your file over to one of the nurses and wait your turn to see one of the
doctors. We finally go called to see a doctor at 12:10 afternoon. So the wait was
from just about 9:30 to just after 12 noon
Diana Ejaita for The
Washington Post
The Case for Leaving America to Escape Racism
As a Black woman, I
want freedom from oppression. So I’m finally plotting my exit.
Perspective by DeNeen L. Brown
Reporter
September 26, 2022 at 10:00 a.m. EDT
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The mouth of the Volta River in Ghana seems to be swelling with the
stories of my people. By day, the river, black and thick, runs south, dumping
its fresh water into the Gulf of Guinea and eventually the Atlantic Ocean,
where it churns in a powerful vortex. By night, I swear I see the river reverse
itself, running inland, as if an invisible force were swallowing it whole. The
pink water lilies, with plump green leaves that floated south that morning,
appear to be moving backward. It is magical and mysterious. I’ve never
witnessed a river reverse course.
I believe this river carries the stories of my enslaved African
ancestors who may have been transported down its waterway hundreds of years ago
into waiting boats anchored out at sea before making the transatlantic voyage
as “human cargo,” heading from this Gold Coast for South America, the Caribbean
islands and other parts of North America. As many as 15 million Africans were
packed in the belly of slave ships, often without proper ventilation or
sufficient food. It is estimated that up to 2 million died in the Middle
Passage, lost in deep-water graves.
My ancestors, though I do not know them, must have survived that
gruesome voyage, only to have to endure the barbarity of enslavement in the
Americas. As with many people in the African diaspora — scattered by the evil
of the slave trade, disconnected from our language, song, culture and people —
I am not exactly sure where my ancestors are from. Still, I know that my
distant ancestors are from this continent. As Peter Tosh sang, “Don’t care
where you come from / As long as you’re a Black man, you’re an African / No
mind your nationality / You have got the identity of an African.”
In December 2021, I jumped on an airplane to reconnect with the
continent — and to explore Ghana as a potential place to live and plant new
roots. It was a time when America seemed to be splintering, with state laws
banning the teaching of critical race theory — effectively, barring the teaching of historical truths — and
constant warnings about real dangers to democracy and the possibility of a new civil war. Eleven months earlier, I
had watched as insurrectionists attacked the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, scaling
walls, beating police officers with American flags, breaking historic glass
windows, bursting doors and trampling through a building built by enslaved Black people. Someone erected a gallows and noose outside. One man carried a
Confederate flag, a symbol of entrenched racism, through the halls of Congress.
The fight for racial justice seemed to be failing. The moral floor had cracked.
Democracy appeared to be imploding, and the country seemed to be
increasingly dangerous for Black people — although racist terror was embedded
in the fabric of American history and is not a new phenomenon. In 1999, Amadou Diallo, a student, was shot 19 times by
four New York police officers who were then acquitted of all charges in his
killing. In 2006, police shot Sean Bell the morning of his wedding. In 2009,
transit police fatally shot Oscar Grant III in Oakland, Calif. In 2014, Michael
Brown was fatally shot by a police officer. Walter Scott was killed in 2015,
Philando Castile in 2016. In 2018, Stephon Clark was fatally shot in his
grandmother’s backyard. In 2020, George Floyd was murdered, and Breonna Taylor
was fatally shot while she slept in her bed. In Kentucky, Charleston and
Buffalo, self-proclaimed white supremacists attacked Black people in churches
and grocery stores.
As a reporter for more than 35 years, I watched, researched and wrote
with a sense of journalistic distance while consuming the emotions of every
tragedy. Each video was so terribly sad. The 2019 police killing of
Elijah McClain in Colorado ripped at my core. I replayed the videos of McClain,
23, a peace-loving vegetarian who played his violin to shelter cats, pleading
for police to stop hurting him and to just let him walk home in peace. We
couldn’t walk the streets, drive, study, go to the grocery store or sleep
without fear of getting killed.
One night while on my trip to Ghana, my driver made a U-turn in traffic
and was stopped by a police officer. My stomach dropped. It was the middle of
the night and I was terrified. I watched as the driver got out of the car and
walked toward the officer standing on the side of the road. The driver motioned
to the officer, talking with his hands, explaining he was lost and apologizing
for making the U-turn. The officer listened. After a pause, the officer said,
“I forgive you. Go about your way.”
I want this kind of freedom: to live in a country where traffic stops
end peacefully. I want the ability to move among people who look like me. I
want to engage in intellectual debates without having to explain the history of this country’s racism. I know no place is perfect. But I want to live in a country where
racism is not a constant threat. Which is why I have decided to eventually
leave America. When or where I will go I can’t say for sure — but I am finally
ready.
Writer DeNeen L.
Brown at the former site of Fort Kongenstein in Ada Foah, Ghana, where enslaved
Africans were traded. (Courtesy of DeNeen L. Brown)
I am not alone in my plot to leave the country where I was born in an
attempt to flee entrenched oppression. There is no official tally of African
Americans who have recently chosen to leave, but anecdotally there has been a
surge of interest in the topic.
Looking ahead to the 400th anniversary of the arrival of the first
enslaved African people on the shores of what is now Virginia, Ghana’s
president, Nana Akufo-Addo, issued a call to people in the African diaspora to
“return home” by visiting and moving to Ghana. “In the Year of the Return, we
open our arms even wider to welcome home our brothers and sisters,” Akufo-Addo
said in 2018 at the National Press Club in Washington, “in what will become a
birthright journey home for the global African family.”
For many, the death of Floyd in 2020 may have been a turning point. “In
the last two years, there has been a groundswell of Black people in America who
want to go to Africa,” says Greg Carr, a professor of Africana studies and
former chair of the Department of Afro-American Studies at Howard University. “I
haven’t made the jump yet, but I’ve been thinking about it all the time. … I
would prefer to experience the full range of human experiences on the
continent, rather than put up with the default position in the United States,
where we are ‘othered’ and excluded from the definition of humanity. It is a
perpetual field of violence.”
Celebrities have been part of this trend. In 2020, the singer and actor
Ludacris announced on Instagram that he had become a citizen of
Gabon, a country in central Africa. Actor Samuel L. Jackson also became a
citizen of Gabon after he took a DNA test that showed he was connected to the
country’s Benga tribe. “It was spiritually uplifting to connect with the tribe
and to look down and see my relatives and ... to be welcomed by some people
that looked at me ... like, ‘Come home,’ ” Jackson told “The Daily Show” host Trevor Noah. In
2021, singer Stevie Wonder announced he was moving to Ghana. During an interview
with Oprah Winfrey, he explained that his decision was prompted by the recent
political climate in America: “I don’t want to see my children’s children’s
children have to say, ‘Oh, please like me. Please respect me. Please know that
I am important. Please value me.’ ”
The U.S. State Department’s Bureau of Consular Affairs says it does not
keep track of the number of Americans who have moved out of the country. “U.S.
citizens are not required to register their presence abroad, and we do not
maintain comprehensive lists of U.S. citizens residing overseas,” a State
Department spokesperson wrote to me. “Estimates of U.S. citizens in particular
countries can vary and are constantly changing. We do not want to provide
figures that cannot be considered authoritative.”
But online, one can find growing communities that are sharing stories of
what they sometimes call the Blaxit, i.e., Black Exit. The YouTube
channel GoBlack2Africa has posted dozens of videos
interviewing African Americans who’ve moved to Africa. A video from the African Web YouTube channel titled
“Why Are So Many African Americans Moving to Ghana” has been viewed over 217,000
times.
In 2021, Tim Swain, a poet and educator who moved from
Indiana to Ghana, told the YouTube channel Odana Network that the first time he visited
Ghana in 2007, he was transformed “as a Black person.” Then in 2014, he went to
join peaceful protests in Missouri after the police killing of 18-year-old
Michael Brown. The attacks on protesters left him shaken. A few months later,
he traveled to Ghana again. “It was like this juxtaposition of America where I
am feeling like the bottom of the bottom, reminded every day that I’m a Black
person that is a stain on the fabric of America,” Swain recounted. “I come to
Ghana where I literally exist as a human being. I have no conscience about the
color of my skin. … Every time I came to Ghana it became literally harder and
harder to return to the U.S.” After about two years of planning, he and his
wife moved to Ghana in 2019.
Rashad McCrorey, who owns a
travel company that organizes tours to Africa, told BNC
(“America’s Black News Channel”) that he
was traveling in Ghana in 2020 when the pandemic hit the United States. He
decided to stay. “It’s been an amazing experience,” he said. “In America, we
deal a lot with racial oppression, [systemic] oppression, whether it’s red
lining ... the prison industrial complex. But what I appreciate most about
being in Africa is that I just wake up every day and being a man.”
Winthrope Wellington, 38, who runs Throp, a YouTube channel that highlights economic
business development in Jamaica, has interviewed African Americans who have
recently moved to the island. Wellington — whose father is Jamaican —
permanently moved from New York to Negril after college. Last year, Wellington
interviewed Rahel Teklegiorgis, a guest at his family’s hotel who decided to
move to Jamaica from Philadelphia during the pandemic. “As a single Black
female ... I felt welcomed. That’s the beauty of the culture here,”
Teklegiorgis told Wellington. “Wherever I go, they’re like, ‘Empress!’ It’s
just a beautiful thing to feel welcomed and valued and held up. ... It’s like a
breath of fresh air. ... I would encourage folks to just try it. Take the first
step.”
After he posted the interview, Wellington noticed a theme in the video’s
comments. “I realized there was an underground movement of people asking, ‘How
can I, as a Black American, move to a country where I don’t feel oppressed and
automatically judged by my skin color?’ ” Wellington told me. He added that during
Donald Trump’s presidency, “people were driven to my channel. People were
looking for a way out.” He also noted another element that may be a key driver
of the trend: In the age of remote work, people can choose to live abroad
without quitting their jobs.
And yet, people have also been making this choice since before the
pandemic and George Floyd and the upheavals of the Trump era. Mark E. Blanton,
53, a former U.S. Secret Service agent, and his wife, LaTasha R. Blanton, 44, a
doctor of physical therapy, decided to move from their home in Virginia to
South Africa after visiting in 2011. “We saw beautiful homes, luxury homes,”
LaTasha told me of her first visit to South Africa. “We saw Black people
holding positions.” It made her think of all the work she had put into her
career in the United States without ever really feeling as though she had quite
arrived. In America, she recalls, “I checked all the boxes they asked me to
check: Go to school, get a degree and at the end you would have a life where you
don’t have to worry as much. But it was never that.”
In 2018, they moved, resolving that “we should live out the rest of our
days around people who think like us, look like us and feel the same way we
feel about our accomplishments,” says LaTasha. “When I first arrived in South
Africa, that is when I realized I was living.”
Mark and LaTasha now own the Real South
Africa tourism company, which is based
in Johannesburg and introduces visitors to life in the country. They have seen
an increase in the number of people booking tours. For many, the trip is an
experience that shifts their inner core. When their airplanes land, “everybody
says they felt something,” Mark told me.
Whenever Mark has to travel to the States, he sobs on his return flight
to South Africa. “It’s the feeling of freedom,” he explains. “I don’t want to
let it go, even for a moment. I love my freedom. I truly do. You must
understand the experience on this side as an African American. … A lot of
African Americans are figuring this thing out. That is the biggest draw. They
are getting their freedom.”
Sept. 1, 2022
I just received the latest
newsletter from the Denis Hurley center and ai am always inspired by the work
that they do and the projects they support, churchy and non-churchy. Here is
one example that couod be a challenge to some of you who read this blog. You
probably read about the devastating rains that hit our province in South Africa
that left already very poor people with literally nothing (some even lost their
llves)
|
RE-IMAGINING THE ROLE OF THE CHURCH AFTER THE FLOODS |
|
|
|
In early
August, we hosted an invigorating discussion looking at issues of ‘spatial
justice’. The event – entitled “Homes, buildings, land & space:
Re-imagining what churches & Christians have done and can do in the wake
of the Easter floods” – was convened by the Diakonia Council of Churches with
our own Stuart Talbot leading the discussion alongside Caroline Powell who is
based with The Warehouse Trust in Cape Town. (Caroline recently worked with
our Director and others on a book called ‘Facing Homelessness’ which you can access here). The horrific flooding in the KZN Province in April 2022, which
left many in the metro and beyond traumatised, was the context for the event.
Four months on and we are still living with a massive housing crisis. Too
many people are still stuck in community halls or living in unsafe premises
after their homes were destroyed. And, as in many instances, it is the
poorest and most economically and socially marginalised who were the hardest
hit; shacks built on steep hills, settlements with no running water built on
riverbanks for ease of access and so on. We have seen, before our eyes, how poverty, injustice and
inequality have led to real disparities in how the floods impacted different
people – and in turn whether they have been able to rebuild. And all this
when we are already facing challenges of spatial justice: homelessness is a
situation faced by more and more people in our city; land (and who does or
does not have access to it) is a fraught debate in South Africa; and
shack-dwellers are regularly marginalised and victimised through forced
removals and harsh treatment by officials. In the morning session, we took a deep dive into scripture and
looked at how it can help to shape, inform and expand our understanding of
spatial justice – and in turn how this can inform our action and direction of
travel as a church. We did this using the Contextual Bible Study methodology
pioneered by the Ujamaa Centre at UKZN (see photo above). For the afternoon session,
we held a discussion where we shared stories from around the country around
space, housing, homelessness and land. This session was a chance to locate
the ideal of spatial justice in the South African story and to look at how
the Church is and could be addressing spatial injustice. |
August 13, 2022
I was just reminded today that
I AM ALREADY 87 AND WILL BE 88 IN November. Holy Moses.
I happily received visitors
from Pretoria twice this month both of them couples that I
married some years back. Nice to see that the glue is sticking.
I had
a trip to the dentist to do something to kill the pain. He fixed a filling and
now all is well.
I have been trying to
monitor my meds but I am confused because one day they work fine and the next day
I am up the whole night with spasms every 20 or 25 seconds until I fall asleep
again. I don’t understand.
On the 26th of July we jubilarians celebrated different things…for me it was 26 yrs. as a priest. Where did the time go???
I had signed up for a winter school on
racism, but had to cancel because it was too complicated to get transport at
the times for going and coming and also I don’t think I could sit still so long
without having to have a pee and the toilet is faaaaar. Here at home I just use
the portable urinal. I would never survive going out any more unless there is a
toilet nearby. Ha, but don’t laugh. Your time is coming, but I hope not too
soon.
We are working on getting me into Albert
Luthuli Hospital for a Baclofen pump operation. ALH is a government hospital so
the govnt pays. We can’t afford a private hospital. Please pray that it works out..
It is kind of complicated but our home doctor’s classmate is in charge of the
neurology dept. at ALH. And specializes in brain surgery and things related to neurology.
Fingers and toes crossed wrapped in lots of prayers.The thing about a Baclofen
pump (]which is put just under your skin
near the tummy) is that it pumps the meds straight up to the brain because it
is injected into the spinal fluid with a small pipe. I understand that
it stops the signal from getting out which is much better than trying to deal
with the spasm that is being buzzed by the signal. You know what I mean?
We went to the traffic dept. to pay for the
yearly car registration.. you get a small disc that the traffic cops look for
to see it you are legally driving. We left here at 10:45 and were back at 11:15. Wow. lots of ubuntu.....treating people like human beings.
I distributed lots of the money that you
sent to help people and they send their sincere thanks. Food, rent, medicine,
transport, repairs to the house after the devastating rains, school fees. Etc.
We were untouched but just nearby it was terrible. Some lost everything and
they didn’t have much to begin with.
Well. That’s all for now. We continue to
pray for each other.
Whoever said that getting old
was not for sissies spoke a deep truth. Ha. But it has its ups too especially
for grand;parents with their grandchildren. Lots of love as always. Cas
July 16, 2022
I am losing track of time
here. already July is rushing to its conclusion.
I have Sia It already many
times that when someone says how are you doing, they don’t really want to know
but it is just a sign that they love and recognize you. You are nor just a lump
or dried cement on the ground.
But, on the other hand if
they know you are having serious challenges to your health, they really want to
hear if you are making any progress or what else is going on so here it is
These spasms are really
interfering with my quality of life.. ai had to give up driving because I can’t
trust what my left leg is going to do. If I had an automatic transmission I
could still continue because all other things are working all well. But
I have been taking some
gabapentin….tablets in the morning and afternoon, which seem to ease up the
spasms but they stilll come more or less every every 20 seconds . And at
night I take half a rivotril pill (.5 mg
in half) but powerful. It even makes you sleep. Than I tried, twice the whole
pill and at 3am I found myself spasming not just in my left leg but my whole
body was tensed up tight so I stopped and went back to the half tablet. But
last night I woke up at 3am and the spasms started immediately. It was painful and I had just had a wee and
really didn’t want to get out of bed. It was 17C. in the house and 9C outside
my window. But eventually I had to get up and take something called tramolta,
to calm down the pain but because the spasms kept on, I couldn’t fall asleep
and eventually got up and took a gabapentine tablet which seems to calm down
the spasm and eventually I fell asleep again.
Since we have been having
serious electricity shortages with so-called load shedding, Br. Albert has had
his hands full with generator which was repaired after a long time and is
supposed to kick in when the power from the mains goes off that he had to top
the physiotherapy, so I haven’t had physio (except the exercises that I do
myself every day) for about 6 months now and I felt that the hamstring muscle
was going back , slowly, to it original short position which would pull the leg up into a 90% position. So
I booked a session witih a physiotherapist to find out if that was true and while she was having a look
at my knee it showed her how it works by
starting its every 20 second rhythm. Fr. Ernests was also there so he also saw
what I have been trying to explain.
Her advice was to get a bean
bag that you could heat up in the microwave and place it under the knee and get
someone from the monastery to come and press down on the knee 3 times a week
and it would not get the leg straight again but would stop it from getting worse.
I don’t remember if I told
you this already, but, kind of the last resort was something called a Baclofen
Pump. What they do is put a needle in your spinal cord and shoot this baclofen
in where it goes straight to your nerves and is supposed to stop the spasms at
the source, where the signal comes from to go into spasm. They put a small pump
inside you somewhere that squirts this stuff in you 24/7SO YOU GET REIEF FROM
THE SPASMS. I hope. Anyway, it is too expensive and op for us to pay for so the
hope is that I can get a referral to Albert Luthuli hospital (where all the
experts are)and then the govn’’t pays. I that can happen (fingers crossed and
lots of prayers) I can go ahead and have this op there. If not, I don’t know
what..
It is more that 3 yrs. since
it started after the knee replacement and the spasms seem to be getting more
aggressive especially when I get up in the morning and before I go to bed at
night. Even with the walker, I can hardly walk. I refuse to think of a wheel
chair because I think that for me it would be going backwards. Then my legs
would alwarys be in the 90% position and my hamstring would be happy and would
get shorter again which is what we are trying to avoid. I use my elbow crutches
mostly outside the room and the walker inside the room. I can still take a
shower, wow), I can make my bed,, etc. etc. But I wonder how long. And then
what??? God will have to provide.
I see the neurologist on
Aug.1st and he will talk to his friend about getting me into A. L.
hospital for a free op.
It seems that they have a
trial run before they go for the whole op by injecting a little baclofen into
the spinal cord an checking how it is working . If it is working then they go
for the whole op, So now you know you know ‘how are you” Otherwise I am fine and healthy. My mouth
works well at the dinner table.
I know that some of you
have even worse or more challenging
;problems and I really have n right to complain or moan, so I just join with
you and pray that God brings you some comfort and healing, even if it is only
inner healing. (as I am sitting here typing, I can feel the spasms and as soon
as I get up they will grab me and try to show me who is in charge. Ha. Don’’t I
know.
I think that this is enough
for now., so I will say till next ystime (auf wiedersehen). I pray that you all
stay well and in God’s good graces and S/He doesn’t mind being reminded that
you need help and support from God, even if it is every day,
As always, lots of love. I
am richly blessed having you as loving family and friends. Peace. Cas
I have to record this before
it goes out of my head.
Yesterday I had visitors
from Pretoria….a couple I married 12 yrs. ago (the glue is not only still
sticking but it is getting more solidified) and the mothers of the then bride
and groom (two old gogos---grannies, roughly my age) still in pretty good
shape, from what I could see) and the first son, now 11 yrs. old.
It was a delightful
afternoon When the wife asked what time they should come, and after gauging the
time from where they were staying, I said “How about 10am?/ She said, they are gogos, they don’t get up
till 10. Ok, I said, make it 2 or 2:30 pm.
Better.
They brought some coffee,
tea and coffee along and left some irresistible chocolate sweets.
We reminisced about the old
times and mentioned the names of people who touched our lives then. I mentioned
that I had to give up driving because I nolonger had total control of my left
foot, but I would be able to drive an automatic car because I could do that
with just the right foot. ( I am dreaming of someone who wants to get rid of
his/her automatic or would be willing to trade my beautiful 2005 Hyundai Atos
with their automatic. I can dream, can’t I
The time went so fast, too fast. Next you kknow it was almost
5pm, time for supper. I was soooooo happy.
Can’t wait for the next
visit.
But I Realized that I have
been institutionalized……I would have trouble organizing a cup of tea or coffee,
sugar and milk ( I could easily do that in my own house, if I had one, and I get up at 5am now, because mass is at
7:30 and breakfast at 8am, after mass. We have a timetable and a schedule which
is necessary in our situation. In the old days, at my mission, I could
re-adjust the schedule and organize things as I liked. Of course, there are
also advantages, we re cooked for,
rooms cleaned, laundry done , etc. so I am not complaining just remarking. Anyone
who would like to make me a gift of a small automatic car, I wouolf be glad to
indulge you and you could be sure of many, many prayers.
I slept happily through the whole
night, getting up to pee only once. Very unusual.
Baneli changed my sheets for
me, and I have put on an extra blanket as it is getting winter cold here now.
I am going to bed earlier
and earlier these days but lately, it has been between 8 and 8:30pm. It is
getting harder and harder to get up in the morning to a cold room (it was 14C in my bedroom this morning and 9
C outside on our veranda. Remember this is Durban, supposedly
semi-tropical, Ha, long gone, climate
change has arrived with force. This will be a busy week. I will explain later.
As John Lennon once said, “life is what happens while you are busy making other
plans. Peace and love till we meet again.
June 14, 2022
Wow, how the time has flown. I can’t believe
that it is over a month that I have put anything in my blog.
Well, here goes. The meds that are supposed to
be quieting down my spasms seem to be encouraging them. They still haven’t been
able to find something that will do the job.
Two years
ago, an offer was made to install in my body a Baclofen pump, to inject the baclofen
directly in the spinal cord so that it goes straight to the nerves. But it was
so expensive that I turned it down them.
Now that
things have not improved at all, once again this suggestion was made, but with
an offer of trying to get me into Albert Luthuli hospital, the best of the best,
as a kind of charity case where everything would be paid for. These are the experts
in all the various fields. Maariannhill nor I would agree to spend the money it
would cost if we had to pay, but if the bid to get me into luthulli would succeed
I would accept gratefully. The after care would be about the same as the
expense of the meds that could be discontinued (refilling the pump, someone to
do that, etc.) We shall see.
I think that I have finally accepted that I can’t
trust my leg to drive any more so I will simply ask for lifts (ugh) but the time
has come finally. The spasms seem to come every 20 seconds or so, some s\stronger
than others, and they last longer and are more painful.I wish I could go back and
undo the knee replacement, but too late for that.
A more humorous but also serious thing is my
bladder . I used to see the Urologist once a year to make sure that my prostate
was clean of cancer. Then for about a
year and a half I didn’t go any more. I used to wonder why he kept asking is I
was incontinent. Ha. I saw him 2 weeKs ago and told him, yes, incontinent about
5 or 6 times a day. The problem is I am on crutches and can hardly walk
now. I have a portable urinal that has
been my salvation. I am trying to learn my signals. Can I wait a bit or must I
move NOW, NOW. If I don’;t read he signals right and wait too long, it could be
and has been disastrous. I don’t think I could ever be embarrassed any more.The
Urologist thinks that there is a link, nerves-wise , between the nerves causing
the spasms and the ones controlling the bladder. The Neurologist decided to look again at the
3 MRI’S to see if they missed something and to even get another kind of outside
opinion who is also knowledgeable to have a close look and hope that he can see which
nerves are sending those sisgnals. I hope they can be found too
Aside from that , two especially happy occasions
took placed…..one of our Mariannhill priests was just made the archbishop of
Durban and another one (our our former superior general) was just made the
bishop of Kokstad, a neighboring diocese. Greata rejoicing. Visitors from all over.
Nice to see old confreres from all over the
world. And all of us old timers, seeing our dreams coming true, all the
youngsters taking over where we left off and continuing the work, some of them
being made bishops and leaders of our Mariannhill community. We can say “Nunc
dimmitis servum tuum domine…” Now you can take me home Lord….I have done what
you asked me to do, so I can go home now.
I get invited out from time to time and they
will pick me up and bring me back and I keep in touch with Savannah Park
through the Pillay family.
Our friend and dear brother who has been helping
us for the past several years from the Durban diocese has been called back to
his home diocese. We are grateful for his faithful help during the past years.
That’’s enough for now. Let me see if I can
think of other things
