Friday 17 February 2023

Back to Blogging


For the last twelve years, I have blogged about 5 or 6 posts each month. Things stopped abruptly in September last year when my wife was suddenly taken ill. She spent almost 7 weeks in the hospital. Various tests and scans were delayed during two public holidays and whilst she was shuttled between 3 consultants. She then required an emergency operation that diagnosed type 4 cancer. She came home after recovering from the operation and we cared for her for 12 weeks. She had been told immediately after her operation that the condition was terminal and she would have only weeks or months to live. The family were bereft, none of us expected this, she had always looked after herself and imbued the family to follow her example. In most ways, she was in excellent health, enjoying the fruits of her selfless motherhood and planning various trips that she had always dreamt of. 

The daily routine played out against the dark reality of life ticking away. Her stoicism in adversity was remarkable and she kept her irredeemable forebodings to herself to reduce the anxiety and worries of the family. She was true to her lifelong habit of thinking of others first. We had excellent assistance from GPs, district nurses, and carers from the local hospice and the pharmacy. Their commitment and professionalism were outstanding. It was a stark contrast to the stay in the hospital when it took 4 weeks to achieve a diagnosis with numerous delays to tests as well as frequent changes of consultant. It was difficult to establish who in the hospital was responsible or accountable for her treatment. The contrast of patient care between the trusting collaboration of community health practitioners and the hierarchical silos of professionals that run our hospitals could not have been greater.

After Christmas Day, when she briefly came downstairs for the last time, her condition declined rapidly and she was admitted to a local hospice for the last 6 days of her life. Once again the support and care were excellent. The funeral took place last month and we were greatly lifted by the tributes from friends, colleagues and family as well as by a large turnout for the funeral and celebration of her life. She was clearly loved by everyone who got to know her.

After five months during which time I had been a full-time carer and been no further than the hospital, supermarket or hospice, I am trying to rediscover a life without my partner of 45 years. My first journey was today, a train to London for a few days with the grandchildren. The train journey reminded me of all the times we had made the same journey from Scotland to King's Cross over the past twelve years. Our conversations, observations, and places that had held our attention were reprised and added to the melancholy. The complex tapestry of life's journey was now triggering fond memories of our time together that prompted the welling of tears.

Arriving in London, I knew that I had to break past habits and with an hour to fill, I decided to seek out unexplored territories. I dragged my baggage towards the urban redevelopment north of King's Cross station where the canal and old railway buildings have been transformed into a throbbing collage of new offices, shops, housing and squares. The expensive and modern new buildings are interspersed with carefully and splendidly refurbished old industrial buildings to create interest and a well-curated urban landscape. The total cost of £3 billion illustrates the massive private investment availability in London and the scale of public investment required to deliver such redevelopment.

What a contrast to the dilapidated condition of so many of our town centres that have been starved of investment in the years of austerity and the collapse of shopping facilities since Covid interrupted the regeneration of most towns. It was confirmation that levelling up remains an urban myth as the London property market shows no sign of slowing down whilst much of the rest of the country has neither the funding nor the capacity to refurbish or redevelop its urban fabric. Plus ça change.

King's Cross Redevelopment














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