Algorithms and the creed

Facebook quickly recognized my bereavement and its algorithm now sends a daily stream of meditations on grief. Is this helpful? Occasionally, yes. One was titled: Mornings are the cruellest.

The morning light comes in the same way it always did, like the world didn't lose someone irreplaceable. And for a moment I just lie there caught between the life I had with you and the one I'm still learning to live without you.

I get up because I have to, but every morning begins the same way now                                              With your name on my lips, with your absence in the room                                                                  With another day ahead that you won't be in.

This resonates .Mornings are the worst for me. I know it's still early days.  Sometimes the meditation are bleak.

When the loss is deep enough it doesn't just break your heart. It breaks the foundation beneath your life. And from that moment on you are learning how to stand on ground that no longer feels familiar. 

No, the foundations are not broken. True much is unfamiliar - I am learning to live on fresh ground. But it's more a question of widening foundations. That's why I was drawn to a meditation (by Dick Willliams in Godfacts,19.73) on that credal conviction: I believe in the communion of saints.

Lord, slowly I am learning that You are my life, and I am learning that You are the life of all who love You;                                                                                                                                              I am learning that we who love You share the same life, and I am learning something of the sweetness and the splendour of that sharing.                                                                                      I am learning that when it is shared, our life in You expands according to some inner principle of  spontaneous growth like fire.                                                                                                            And I remember that You are eternal. You do not die. So that if You are my life, I shall not die.      And those who go before us with you as their life, live in you still, as I do, as your family on earth does.

Lord as we worship You (You who are our life) our love explodes across time and through eternity... catching us together from both sides of death's division and fusing our worship into one great act of praise.

You are God - not of the dead but of the living.

It is slowly learning but what deeper foundations! 

The first horrid birthday

That's what someone called yesterday. The first time I had to face Carol's birthday without her. It's true that certain occasions particularly unlock emotions. It was a year ago that Carol made her last  public outing, when our church life group celebrated her 80th birthday with a banner, diet Coke and good food. Looking far from well, she rose to the occasion and enjoyed the poem created in her honour.  

Yesterday many kind friends remembered the date and sent me messages of love. Good friends travelled from Suffolk to a National Trust Property (Anglesey Abbey) near Cambridge just for me. They treated me to lunch and then we walked a couple of miles through the grounds with spring flowers awakening around us.  What a kind idea to share in a time like that!

Later I was with our church life group for a fish and chip supper remembering Carol one year on. At a sad time there are few better experiences than being wrapped around by friends who not only remember Carol with affection and who miss her with me, but who shared in an extended prayer time one year on.

Yes, there are aspects that are 'horrid'. The loss of someone you deeply loved for 58 years inevitably leaves a cauldron of turbulence. Emotional disturbances bubble beneath the new normal. But I rejoice in yesterday's kindnesses. Thank you to all my friends for wrapping around me!

You're with Jesus, right?

 Four days before the funeral a white van drew up outside. The driver had worked on my solar panels a couple of years ago. Now he was back to wash them! They've been up for over 10 years and through sheer neglect have developed a thickish layer of algae and grime. A skilled salesman he emphasized the benefits of allowing him and his companion to clamber all over the roof (back and front) with a cleaner and (my) hose. 

Was I interested? No. It was among a number of things that I did not want to be bothered with as preparations gathered for Carol's funeral.  Yet, I realized inconvenient though it was I probably would benefit! So, reluctantly, I gave permission and admit they returned the panels to pristine condition - the solar units since have shown appreciable bounce.

When he came to say goodbye he asked about my missus. And then he saw the card display as I explained that she had died. 'Oh, he said, she was a lovely lady. I'm so sorry.'  As he was turning away he suddenly wheeled around. 'She's with Jesus, though, isn't she? You're with Jesus right!' 'Yes,' I replied, 'I'm with Jesus.'  'That's everything that is,' he said. Pulling down his t-shirt from his neck, he showed me the tattoo over his heart. A cross with the words: JESUS SAVES. 'I was in a terrible mess. My whole life. Drinking and all that. Going nowhere I was. And then I met Jesus and he's changed me. And he will never let me go. He's the way to heaven. I am the Way, the Truth, The Life. That's him. So we know that for your wife. She's safe with him.'

You just never know, do you? From a man on my roof came a powerful spiritual message, a testimony of faith, straight from his heart. I have smiled about this unlikely reinforcement of Christian comfort several times since. It's really good to be with Jesus, right? 

Scarf Sharing

 As friends entered the church and looked to the front they saw flowers on a pedestal, further flowers on the edge of the platform, and at the back along the baptismal rail over 70 scarves - the best from Carol's collection. The service sheet ended with a message from me:

One of you wrote: Whenever I think of Carol I hear laughter, see wonderful colour and love. True-and she loved colourful scarves. So today we took the best of her scarf collection, some unworn even, and displayed them at the front. We hope that many of you will feel able to take one away with you as a colourful reminder of dear Carol.

This rainbow range of brightness hit three aspects of Carol's personality

• Her love of scarves for every outfit and occasion. Over the years her collection grew, increased by gifts from friends (who knew how acceptable another scarf would be)! and boosted by gifts Carol packed in her present box for others. My daughters-in-law discarded the worn scarves and chose the best for the display.
• Her love of colour - Carol was educated in art and design at Goldsmiths College, London but she always had an abiding sense of style - always blending colour to suit the occasion.
• Her love of giving gifts - I mentioned in the service the four boxes of gifts in the garage amassed by Carol in this desire to give appropriate gifts. So, she would have approved of her collection being given away at the end of the service.

At the service's conclusion a stream of friends flowed onto the platform and nearly all the scarves went, with many people immediately donning one.  Over tea several spoke about the scarves around their necks: I remember Carol wearing this one! This one is so Carol! How wonderful to have a reminder like this!

The photo shows some family flowers on the platform edge with the rail display at the back.

Thanksgiving Day Link

A bright day of full sunshine, full church, with an engaged Zoom congregation - what a celebration! I need to post about the 'scarves sharing' next time, but this post publishes the link for the service for those many friends who could not attend!  With the (vitally necessary) help of IT friends (including my grandson) I have added the link below. 

At funerals you may reconnect with many friends from the past. That happened in splendid clusters yesterday. Two Australian friends were the furthest travelled, but time-travelling took me back to the church where I was a teenager (Arbury Road Baptist, Cambridge), and many friends from 1980-1993 at St. Andrew's Street Baptist Church, Cambridge as well as Spurgeon's (1993-2000). The church in Blackburn and seminary in the USA will mostly need see the recording. Our current church in Histon excelled in the best of preparations, food, music, AV and just being there. I am immensely grateful to our pastor, Chris Farmer, for his sensitive leading at the quiet family cremation service earlier in the day and then the full thanksgiving service later.  

It's difficult identifying a few highlights but let me single out:

• The major focus on giving thanks to God for Carol which really sounded out. As someone said: No one could fail to see the Christian joy throughout.' 
• Photo montage through Carol's life, especially showing the determined little girl full of character.
• Both my boys spoke movingly - it was special hearing their recollections, which included....
• Audio recording of Carol (in 2015) telling how she met me for the first time.
• Histon church tribute with a poem on her 80th.
• Scarf sharing - more in next post.

Among other thanks, I mentioned (had to) Carol's talent for match-making in Cambridge and Spurgeon's. Someone calculated that least 7 couples were present whom I had married, of which three pairs had been encouraged together by Carol. What fun in reconnecting over a mammoth tea. afterwards. Many individual conversations I will treasure for a long time. Oh, so much that I shall treasure of the whole day!

John Gooch of our AV team gave me the link below. You will be able to see the full service and also the photo montage of Carol.  Hopefully when you click on it, all will become clear. Thank you for being part of a special day for my family.

 Thanksgiving Carol Quicke

Nearing the time.

Preparations for Carol's Thanksgiving Service are speeding up, with the big unknown inevitably still unknown - how many friends will actually attend! I guess it could be very crowded.

VENUE: Histon Baptist Church, Station Road, Histon, Cambridge CB24 9LQ

TIME: 1:30 pm on Monday 27th April.

Some additional parking will be available but I know it will be busy in the village.

ZOOM; For many friends who unable to attend the service we shall zoom, using the same ID as used for live Sunday worship. For the ID please see the Histon Baptist Church website welcome page: www.histonbaptist.org.uk.

RECORDING: For many friends unable to zoom we intend recording the service. I shall provide further details about how to listen to the recording.

DONATIONS - instead of flowers, though the church ladies are preparing the church colourfully, we are designating two charities, both of which became important to Carol.

• Arthur Rank Hospice Charity may be sent c/o Peasgood &Skeates, 164 Histon Road, Cambridge, CB4 3JP
• Histon Baptist Church may be made directly to the Church Sort Code 20-17-20 Account 83701808

DRESS - we know many friends will not see this message but the family would encourage the wearing of some colour! Carol loved colour.

I continue to be overwhelmed by all your kind messages and encouraging memories - it really brings comfort.

Corrective note

I must make clear that my Easter gratitude (last post) is genuine and the risen Jesus holds fast my faith. However, I realize how it may have sounded almost facile to skeptical friends. Is accepting a loved one's death that easy?  I need to add some reality, not to dramatize the sadness, but to safeguard against any impression that these last months have been coasting in comfort. Times of desolation have been acute. And were Carol's prayers answered in ways that she wanted? No. Our Christian faith faced struggles these last few months. Do I need to mention this? Well, only to underline how faith in God does not protect you from distress, but grants a way through. 

Carol was in bed for much of the time since mid-July 2025. Being at home meant comfort was always near. She never mentioned feeling alone or scared! However, her seven weeks in hospital was a different matter  During each day I stayed 8 to 10 hours. Her neurological disease (still undiagnosed as we await further brain post-mortem results) gave her times of lucidity in the midst of complete unreality. This was a frightening combination of knowing everything was strange around her with constant pain while not understanding what was actually happening to her. Even though her brain disease removed her ability to walk and use her hands, she still wanted to get out of bed and talked longingly of returning home soon. In the last few weeks her loss of swallowing was clearly terminal. Eating became impossible and even with careful sipping, her occasional choking racked her with panicked pain. Much of my time (really hours) was spent holding a drink with a straw to her chapped lips, encouraging the smallest of sips. 

There were particular moments of desolation. One came most nights at the painful moment of my leaving. I would say a prayer, leaning close with a kiss. Often she pleaded for me to stay. I can still hear the cry: ' Please don't leave me! I would stay a little longer until visiting hours were over.  But in the morning I heard from patients in adjoining beds how in the night she was crying out for help and sometimes sobbing. Nobody would give her a drink. I am sure some nurses did help, but her loneliness and desperation was heartbreaking. 

Another grave day, Carol shared her grief openly. She told me how much she had been praying to God to help her. 'I'm praying, and praying. I'm in such a mess but He won't help me. Why won't he help me?'  I had told her several times how serious her illness was and, by prayer, had hoped to prepare her for dying.  But the dementia aspect of her neurological disease was unable to comprehend.  I reassured her of God's love and of his promise to hold her fast in the valley of shadow, but until towards the very end it seemed to be incomprehensible to her anguished mind. As I mentioned in some past posts I do believe she came to a place of deeper peace at the end of her journey. When she slipped to glory I saw she was serenely at rest. I rejoice her cruel suffering is over. How I wish she had never had to go through it, yet Christian believers are not guaranteed freedom from suffering, are they?  Carol's Easter faith - the hymns we shall sing at her thanksgiving - holds fast through desolation. 

Easter Gratitude

It's a while ago that I preached on the Beatitude: Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. (Perhaps I should look back and see how helpful it might have been/be?) But the greatest comfort in mourning is the resurrection story and its grounding truth for all living and dying. I admit the lively Easter Sunday morning service in my church with its all-in children's presence (!) was a contrast with the inner feelings I have, but the Easter truth rang out loudly with its transforming power. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!  

Though my family could not be with me, two friends in my church family shared their lunch with me. Their home has become familiar through their kindness during past months of Carol's illness, and this time with them made Easter all the better. To be with Easter people who share faith is the greatest blessing.  Yes, it truly helps those who mourn. 

One of the less bearable tasks has been planning the services for the crematorium and the church afterwards. However, Carol loved the classic Easter hymns (as well as contemporary ones too). In our Cambridge ministry I used to often choose them for communion services to emphasize the presence of Jesus at the table. I remember her delight with the hymn :Low in the grave he lay. It was the chorus she would sing out: 

Up from the grave he arose,

with a mighty triumph o'er his foes;

he arose a victor from the dark domain,

and he lives for ever with his saints to reign:

He arose! He arose!

Alleluia!  Christ arose!

So, we shell end her service with these words.  Plenty of exclamation marks but it's worth exclaining!

Hugs in strangeness

Yesterday I returned to church after weeks of absence, lately beside Carol's bed or zooming the services. I knew that church friends (and they really are friends!) would welcome me yet I confess some hesitation about the emotion of being back without Carol.  It hardly needs saying that Carol's presence always added joy and vigour to conversations. It's not that I don't try but it seemed effortless to her. Always among the first to grab a tea and mix with people after the services she revelled in fellowship. I quoted one of her church friends on Facebook yesterday. In her card,she wrote: Carol - flamboyantly, outrageously wonderful, a heart for God, a heart for people. Always ready with an anecdote, told in her own inimitable way. Time spent with Carol made you feel better!  

By contrast, after the service, I would often find myself in quieter conversation with the one or two, still without a coffee, with all the flamboyant outrageous stuff in the hall next door. But yesterday, from the beginning, the kindness and warmth of people was so genuine with the warmest of hugs and compassionate of words that I can't say it was effortless but nearly so!. Friends did ask me that difficult question: 'How are you, Michael?' Difficult, because truthfully you don't know how to answer in the anesthesia and tiredness of all the practical busyness. In early bereavement, the bewildering new life bewilders. But the love and prayers and hugs yesterday were wonderful to enjoy. Holy Week is the best time to re-enter congregational worship to prepare for resurrection day.  Right on the nail for bereavement. 

Clearer details

In the whirlwind of the last few days a key date has solidified.  It's some way off but this is vital for my family (small though it is) to gather from the US and Univ. finals.  Monday April 27 at 1:30 pm is now set for a Thanksgiving Service at Histon Baptist Church. As a family we shall meet for a committal service at the crematorium in the morning. 

There are so many thanks we shall want to give for Carol's life.  I know the boys will both reflect on their Mum in the service and some of that will be lively! The sheer range of contacts who have expressed their feelings to me has truly surprised me and fills me with pride.  She really did make a difference in other's lives.

Already, now the date is known, the ladies (I think it will be mostly ladies!) are beginning to plan out refreshments.  Musicians are being marshalled including one of our friends who wants to play the organ alongside other musicians. The organizer of the church flowers has been in touch about Carol's favourite text and what flowers should best be chosen to remember her. Isn't that great? The text Carol was given at her baptism always remained significant and I think that's probably the one I shall choose. Those who knew Carol best, realize how wisely appropriate it was. 'Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you' (1 Pet.5:7). One of her great anxieties was that I would die before her. This is not an uncommon worry, is it? 'I couldn't bear to me left on my own', she said.  Well, God really cares for her.

More details will emerge with hopes to zoom the service so that friends at a distance can share with us. I look forward to providing more details as they emerge.

A horrid day

I've tried not to think about it too much.. The post-mortem for Carol eventually took place at Addenbrookes Hospital, Cambridge today.  As expected (at least by the neurological researchers) no immediate cause of death was evident, so her brain is now undergoing histology examination with biopsies likely to take many weeks before any conclusions are drawn.  Nearly 2 weeks after her death we are still in limbo.

However, I am being issued with an interim death certificate that apparently acts like the real thing. I can plan the funeral with the family and, I think, register the death even though the proper certification is some way in the future. I have registered deaths before but it is definitely different for your wife.  As regards the funeral, I am meeting with the funeral director soon and have already been talking with our minister at Histon Baptist Church. It's a smaller building but it has become our spiritual home and, importantly, the ladies of the church are already gearing up to provide refreshments,.  They wonder how many people might turn up? Good question.

Fortunately the service will be online with Zoom which should enable friends at a distance to share in the service.  I am so relieved to have reached this stage. As soon as clear details emerge I shall post them, of course. So, expect to hear before long though the service will be a little way off so that my US family and London family with final exams etc. are all accounted for. 

Limbo

Eight days since Carol's death and I am still waiting for the next move.  The Medical Examiner, Funeral Director, Minister, and us as family are all dependent on what the Coroner determines about a post-mortem.  Through early confusion, when I was allocated a Coroner's Officer, who a day later (after many phone calls) I discovered was incorrectly given to me, I was given a really keen-to-help Officer.  However, she had not dealt with a possible Creutzfeldt-Jacob Disease before (not many have) so she needed to begin a slow discovery process.  Early I explained that the last scan Carol endured (that's the word) had revealed it was unlikely to be CJD but this didn't seem to register..

So, these last four days I learned that a CJD post mortem was likely to be inevitable. Various unhelpful facts emerged. That there were only a couple of UK mortuaries willing to undertake such a post-mortem - in Edinburgh and London.  The disease is seriously contagious when exposed -nobody wants the job! The plot thickened when I learned that actually no CJD postmortems have recently been carried out in the country.  In this exasperating limbo I kept pressing for the original researchers to be fully consulted. 

However, I'm relieved that there now appears to have been a high level neurological meeting today and we might know more next week. .All the time, I am remembering dear Carol in the suffering of the last few days - how unusual her disease is proving to be and how bravely she bore it. And I have been immeasurably comforted by the tens of cards, letters now coming each day (it's a long time since the postman was regular). Your memories, anecdotes and descriptions have been heart warming. Soul warming. I am so grateful and I know the family will be when they come to see the range and depth of greeting.  And, hopefully, there will be news of a thanksgiving service soon. 

Farewell dear Carol

Dara, my daughter-in-law sent me photos she had taken of Carol, singling out this one as her favourite. I like it too. It catches the smile and joy as she was with family. I posted it on Facebook yesterday which issued immediately in an overwhelming (in the best sense) torrent of sympathy with friends' memories. So far, over a hundred friends from our varied past have surprised me by their specific memories of her in action and their love for Carol.  What an extraordinary comfort it is to learn how others have been genuinely touched in meaningful ways by your loved one  Likewise, I so value each of the comments made by some of you on this blog.  I would love to be able to reply to everyone - please forgive me but the word 'overwhelming' is true in these first days and appropriate answers are some way off!  Thank you so much for your prayers.

7:05

Just returned from the hospice.  Simon and I had been with Carol all day with obviously increasing pain this morning, which the dr. on duty corrected. Sitting by her bed we were aware of some response but when two church friends popped into see her, and share in tea provided by volunteers, Carol seemed on the same gentle path of decline.

We left at 6:15 after prayer and promises to see her tomorrow. We had travelled two miles or so when the phone rang. The sister in charge told us that when they were changing her position it seemed that she has suddenly developed a sinister breathing pattern. She thought the end was close. We turned around and re-entered the hospice. Sister Rosa was sitting with Carol. I was stunned by the change.  It is often commented that people choose to die when their relatives leave. Was this happening? 

It gave us a chance to say our thanks to her and all she means to us,. I read some Scripture and prayed, especially that she might enter glory peacefully.  Within minutes her breathing had ceased! 7:05 is the recorded time.

I have too much to work through at present and, unfortunately, the Coroner has to be involved because of the unknown neurological illness.  Obviously I shall post details. For all your prayers and happy memories of dear Carol, thank you.

A pain day

 A brief post to share how I witnessed the hospice in action today. My son Simon arrived by train to give valued support by the bedside. Sadly, Carol's pain increased as the day wore on.  'Wore on' is an apt description! You could not only see pain on her face and increased involuntary body movements but in the way she punctuated breaths with groans. Increasingly, staff monitored ongoing medical response. Apparently Carol began on 5 mg of one particular med while others in the hospice are at 60 mg.  When and how should they increase dosage, especially because hospital notes excluded several options like morphine because of possible anaphylactic shock?  Today, I have been so impressed by the care and time spent by the doctors on seeking a safe balance of drugs to meet her pain. So much time spent explaining to me.

Eventually, by early evening they had established the right combination of drugs for the 'driver' (the name they give the shunt in her arm).  To our great relief her face relaxed, her body stilled and her breaths, though an effort, quietened.  It is such a relief to see pain come under control and the anguish abate !

What also helped us today was the visit from our minister, Chris, who led prayers for Carol. He anointed her with oil, and with words of Scripture and trusting prayers committed Carol to Jesus' care.  Though I, and others, have prayed with Carol there was a weight and depth to this time that I pray, right in the midst of pain and anxiety, she knew Christ's grace and promises ministering peace.  Actually, it is particularly in times of pain and anxiety that the peace which passes human understanding brings comfort and hope.

Again, thank you for bearing yet another medical bulletin. I so appreciate your care.

Suddenly

After no posts for 4 days, because Carol gave me no particular news to report as she gently declined,  today is different. This morning two friends came and Carol showed some humour, though talking itself is clearly a problem. She and Andrew have always exchanged banter with gentle ribbing and to our delight she showed flashes of the old Carol in some jocular jousting.  Wonderful.

However, I had noticed earlier that my major daily comforting role of holding a straw to her sore lips, so that she could sip Diet Coke (of course!) no longer worked. I could see her trying to suck the liquid up but her sipping strength had failed. Her contorted face showed both the effort of trying to make her sipping work and her consternation that no liquid came. Later, in the afternoon her doctor appeared with great concern that her breathing was suddenly deteriorating. She thought that the neurological disease was shutting down more physical activity - like sipping and even breathing. Speaking directly to Carol she explained they would be putting a port in her arm to help her receive some pain killers. Carol croaked agreement though when the nurses arrived she loudly proclaimed she didn't need any pain relief.   

Sadly, the evidence quickly mounted about how much pain she was in. The doctor then revisited me and gave me the talk. Very sensitively. She  told me how Carol is now much closer to dying which could be happening very soon.  This requires my London son, Simon, to come tomorrow and for me to be ready  even tonight that they might call me. When I asked whether I should stay the night at the hospice she judged that was unnecessary, but kept emphasizing how difficult it is to tell about the dying process when the brain begins shutting down vital functions.  They have not seen this disease at Arthur Rank before but seemed surprised at its sudden reversal today (as I was!)

It is so strange to be in the situation I have already seen others in the hospice when loved ones have died. I knew it was going to happen and yet this has still caught me out with a shock. Thank you for all the love and prayers so many of you have showered our way.  I'll let you know the next stage.

Gratitude

I am filled with gratitude tonight. Prayers wonderfully answered. This morning the news came through to the G3 ward that at last a bed was available at the newish Arthur Rank Hospice - a splendid roomy home with ground-floor wards looking out onto hedges and bird tables. I visited with my home group (and Carol) when one of our members was dying, for a memorable prayer session in their garden room. Carol has been admitted to a four-bedded room which she shares with three older women - all frail and fading. Eventually, she will move into a solo room.

As a family we wondered whether this transition to a hospice would awaken Carol to the realization of how ill she really is. Her disease's dementia element has meant that at times she still sees herself as likely to return home and even to walk again. Will this new experience help her understand more and, importantly, help in her preparations for death?  Through many years she has helped people in exactly this situation as a palliative care visitor. I remember in the US hospital she became aware of a man whose anger at dying made him impossible to talk to. Indeed, some of the staff were frightened to go into his room. Yet Carol went in and began conversation which calmed and comforted him.  The rest of the team marvelled at her touch.

Her situation remains most unusual. And, perhaps she does know!  Whatever, we as her friends are praying for peace, comfort and faith these last days and for the best ways to help her.

Entering the building you are immediately aware of  loving concern which surrounds patients and their families. You really are. Only one day into the experience and I have experienced genuine comfort and skill and I am grateful.  We keep praying for this last chapter to be filled with God's love and peace.  

Sad waiting

Members of the palliative care team are becoming familiar to me. Several have now spoken since last week - all with genuine empathy I have to say. However, they have needed empathy. Yesterday they called to say they had a bed lined up for Carol but that a person in the hospital proved to be even more in need of end-stage care than Carol. So she lost her place in the queue. 

With voices full of warm care they said that they hoped something would happen today. 'We know how much Carol needs the care,' they commented, 'and she remains priority.'  However, it didn't happen - no bed became available at the hospice today. It's all doubly sad waiting. Sad for Carol who remains on a public ward with all the noise when I long for her to be in a more restful place, but sad because all the time talk about finding a bed means someone else dying, with all the grief and goodbyes, in order for a space to come free.

I shall hope to report better news soon. The one side-ways silver lining is that Carol has always loved Radio 4 on from the early hours until TV (Heartbeat especially recently) is switched on later in the day. She says that she loves the sound of people talking.  Well, that is certainly happening! 

Anyway, thank you again for all your prayers and concern

Learning about Friday

Today I gleaned three pieces of information about dear Carol. Two relate to Friday events. First, the palliative care team managed to secure a bed at the Arthur Rank Hospice that day. I had no idea of this option - perhaps just as well! Out of their concern that Carol be given more appropriate surroundings and care this was an immediate opportunity. To be eagerly seized, surely! Wait.....

However, as I reported in my last post, Friday was also the day for the MRI!  In the hospital 'team tagging triangulation', the neurology team's decision trumped the palliative care's wishes.  When I heard later that the MRI had shown a clear brain scan I was more than slightly upset that Carol was still on her noisy ward when the hospice move had been secured.  Even more disappointing, was today's second piece of information from the palliative care team that the Friday bed has now been filled and Carol has been put on a waiting list.

BUT also today, the third piece of information came last, this afternoon. The chief neurologist spent half-an-hour with me. He emphasized what he had mentioned before - that humility is vital in his role. (Actually, it's vital for the Christian life too!)  Though Carol's symptoms checked out positively with the list of CJD symptoms -which I looked up the NHS data and I couldn't help but agree - the Friday MRI now led them to the conclusion that Carol is not suffering from CJD!  Her brain should show certain evidence, yet didn't. What a turnaround! What a mystery, because she is clearly impacted by a serious neurological condition. 

The neurologists would love to research further but agree that they do not want to cause more distress to Carol.  Presumably they hope to do post-mortem research.  Living with mystery continues to be our journey. I pray for an opening at the hospice soon and for Carol's peace.

Thank you for bearing with these twists and turns.

About 1-2 in a million

 At last, the much delayed MRI occurred. Simon has come to stay with me this weekend which meant welcome company as we supported Carol through the ordeal at 7:00 pm last night. She completed a successful scan in terms of lasting the required time in the noisy machine. Not successful in terms of the neurologists' hopes that something significant would show up.  We learned today the scan was clear.

The result is that Carol seems to have joined an unhappy rare group of  Sporadic Creutzfeldt-Jacob Disease sufferers, because the clear scan apparently provides evidence to them of something very unusual!  I know I mentioned this possibility earlier. CJD is so rare that only around 1-2 persons in about a million suffer from it. In 2020 only 131 people died from it in the UK. Sadly, it develops rapidly as a fatal illness with very troubling symptoms.

Today Carol has been very tired only surfacing briefly this afternoon with slurred speech and a request for Diet Coke. Friends will know this is her drink of choice and one of my vital jobs is  helping her sip minute mouthfuls without triggering coughing/choking. It's hardly nutritious but it's the only nourishment she has! 

Weekends are inevitably marking time periods in hospital.  I expect palliative care to move into action on Monday for Carol's next chapter. Unfortunately, her ward has become noisier. Immediately opposite her is another older patient also called Carol, who has demanded high attention today, calling out loudly for her husband who was only present for a short time this morning.  As staff rush in to placate her and call out 'Carol, Carol ' it adds yet further confusion!   

We keep praying for peace, comfort and courageous faith. These are not easy days.                                                                                                                    

Three team tagging

The last few days have seen 'triangulation' as one doctor called it, as the three different teams concerned with Carol have been collaborating.  The medical, neurological and palliative teams.  Rob was due to return to the US early Monday but heavy snows in NY meant his flight has been delayed until early tomorrow (Thursday). For me this has been a real bonus because all three teams have spoken with us these last two days and Rob has been able to weigh in with significant questions along the way (as well as be with me each evening as we reflect on Carol's decline). Sadly, decline it is and this has meant serious collaboration.

One area of discussion was the feeding tube. Because Carol is no longer eating solids (which has been true for much of this year) the medical team has been keen to fit a feeding tube (as I mentioned in the last post).  Admittedly unpleasant, they have seen it as necessary to stop Carol wasting away. However, the neurological team has been concerned that Carol's lessening cognitive ability means that she no longer has control over her swallowing.  It is hard to imagine the mental state of someone who cannot remember how to chew and swallow.  Actually,  I don't want to imagine it.  It was ultimately agreed by triangulation that the feeding tube is not going to improve her situation and could actually cause distress.  So it's not happening.

The result of this is obvious. Carol is entering a time with no food and minimal drink. This is where the palliative care team is attempting to track the progress of her disease - though we still don't know a diagnosis.  Is this sudden?  Most definitely. Everyone is surprised that she has become so unwell so rapidly. The long-awaited MRI scan is due to take place on Friday but it is agreed should Carol object (and her  claustrophobia is likely) they will not pursue it. 

I remain so grateful for the love and prayers of our many friends. Please forgive me that I have been unable to reply to so many of you.  I deeply appreciate your kind words. Thank you all. 

31 days - on repeat

So far this year Carol has been in hospital 31 days ( I can imagine my US friends totting up the $ signs!)  It's been a bonus to have family support this week and Rob's visit from the US has brightened up our nightly returns home from the ward which are otherwise so dreary.  Our neighbours (who also go to our church) have cooked meals for both of us the previous five nights - that's real neighbourly love!

Carol is stuck deep in a groove with increasing weakness. A repeat pattern dominates. Partly with successive doctors, nurses,  physios and dieticians each requiring a summary of Carol's condition (with differing results from active listening to its opposite). And partly, dear Carol herself, for ever repeating how numb her hands are, how sore her lips are and (most difficult) about her desire to get up and walk to the toilet (impossible) and to eat something, which has still not found an answer. Three staff came to see us through yesterday about her swallowing and diet problems. Frustration was increased when one swallowing expert made dairy-free porridge which ended in more choking. The end result was talk of a feeding tube up her nose and down her throat. This option was not well received!  Actually, thinking about that is quite frightening in terms of quality of life, isn't it?

However, Carol continues with (very) occasional vintage observations. She told Rob that he needed to lose weight today and because I was wearing a red sweater with green trousers she observed that I could work in the US chain store Target, where this is the uniform. These moments are rare but to be treasured. 

One of you asked me to be more specific about a couple of prayer concerns I have. Good point. 

1. For Carol to have peace, patience and courageous faith in these difficult days. And for me, too!

2. The neurology team insists she has an MRI - may this happen soon and reveal more about Carol's illness with the possibility of some specific remedial help.

3. The palliative care team needs to share help from their experience about possible future steps for Carol.  

I have been overwhelmed by the contacts that so many of you have made. I am not sure when I shall be able to respond but please know how deeply grateful I am. 

What's in a name

Yesterday I spent an hour with the professor in charge of Carol's case. I learned that no progress had been made in identifying her illness but that it is no longer appropriate to call it dementia. Rather its name is neuro-degeneration.  For Carol its stages cannot be charted, though the fact that she has not eaten for 9 days since entering the latest ward is a grim sign.  They insist that a further MRI and lumbar puncture are necessary in the next few days but admit that they may still be unable to pin-point the particular disease. As you can imagine, I feel conflicted on all this. 

However, there are highs as well as lows.  I sadly didn't witness it but the highpoint today occurred when I was collecting my jet-lagged son after lunch. Going up the stairs to her ward we met two friends from the church descending with smiles. They had just visited Carol and found her responsive in ways that (I think) surprised them (and me). Apparently, she remembered names and was 'on form'.  As they put it: 'These are moments when we see 'the old Carol'.  One of the oddities of her disease are these times of connection when confusion and tiredness are rolled back. I still chuckle with her comment to me a few days ago when a meal was served in her previous ward. It included a piece of processed meat which seemed  too good to waste (and I was hungry). I began to eat it and Carol suddenly chirped up: 'You have a brilliant gift for eating disgusting food!' 

However, bringing us down-to-earth, when we entered the ward after our church friends we found her in deep sleep showing no responsiveness as we held her hand and tried conversation, which went nowhere for the next four hours. These lows are very dispiriting but we remain so grateful for the love and prayers of so many friends. We keep trusting. 

In suspension

I have been overwhelmed by the kind concern and prayers of so many friends in our history who have reached out to us.  As I write it's a flashback to the days of my aggressive prostate surgery when Carol took to this blog with regular bulletins about my health. (Some friends commented how much more interesting it was when she was writing!)  However, today has been a suspension day. In the absence of doctors and tests over the weekend I have no firm news though it is obvious she is fading in strength.

Tomorrow promises more information though it concerns me that Carol's mystery neurological disease means more tests than may be helpful for Carol's comfort. I confess tension about whether some of the more invasive tests will be more for science than comfort.

I remain in suspension unable to tell my family the pattern of Carol's decline ahead. Rob is planning to fly back from the US soon and Simon comes again on Tuesday. 

So many friends have said that this blog is the best way for me to keep .in touch.  Certainly Facebook broadcasts too widely. I shall try to share news as and when it emerges.  Bless you for all your love and encouragement

Full circle

Today Carol has been placed in palliative care. It's come full circle because Carol's passion for hospital visitation was focused on palliative care. For many years at Addenbrooke's Hospital Cambridge (where she now is) and at Central Du Page Hospital, Illinois where she served for nearly 10 years.  I always marvelled that she went straight into such a demanding care for the dying, with her hallmark compassion at full stretch.  Some of her experiences with the dying were so uplifting. She generally prayed with patients, sometimes gaining responses from them that no one else had achieved. 

Why is Carol suddenly in this need? My last post had her downstairs at the other end of a baby monitor. Well, sadly, she began to deteriorate in mobility last weekend and it meant a return to hospital. After two nights in A & E , she was moved to a ward where she rapidly declined. On Tuesday I was shocked by her appearance - she looked very ill. When the doctor asked me what I thought about Carol's condition I answered 'She looks seriously ill.' To which the doctor said 'She is!' Maybe she was testing how prepared I was for what was to follow.

Neurologists today have spent quality time with her and concluded something else is happening to poor Carol. They have yet to determine exactly what it is, though it certainly apes some dementia symptoms. They mentioned two possibilities which are both rare.  One is CJD. Frowning, I tried to remember what those initials stood for when she said, 'Mad cow's disease is one of its variants.'  (Creutz Jacobs disease) That's incredibly sad news. Carol is certainly in fairly constant movement with some loss of limb control. As you can imagine, I so grieve the pain she's going through and the sadness of having to prepare the boys (and myself). I shall find out more soon and am taking the liberty of posting details on my blog knowing so many caring prayerful friends read this.  . 

Upstairs/downstairs

The before/after contrast is a great sermon device, fitting many Scripture narratives and key salvation theology - from darkness to light! Unfortunately, it can work the other way round. Carol's aim when eventually discharged from hospital was to climb the stairs and sink into her own bed. Buoyed by liberation, we entered the front door and on the first step she fell heavily.  A neighbour helped me right her. In that single moment it dawned on me how everything had changed. When the promised carer arrived he said we should make a second attempt upwards. Same disastrous result. And so began the 'after' saga. 

Downstairs is one through-room stretching from the hallway to garden doors. Everywhere bears Carols' design style.  A bed is not in that design! Now four sets of carers in pairs visit every day to wash, dress and care for  her. I have been cast into a full-time carer's career of watchfulness and service, made all the more heroic by the return of her UTI.  Because Carol can easily fall, and did a couple of nights ago leading to 3 and a half hours on the floor before the ambulance came, her restless nights are filled with too many awful possibilities. Each of the many times loo stops are required she is supposed to cry out to me upstairs. She should never attempt to get out of bed without support.  

Within the downstairs strains, the love and prayers of friends have been sustaining. And imaginative. My church Life Group clubbed together to purchase an upmarket baby alarm. Its night vision allows me to view a screen by my bed so that I can picture impending disaster downstairs in time to prevent another fall.  Two church friends brought down Carol's own bed from upstairs and then one of them connected the baby monitor. That's Christian concern in full flow action.  I am so grateful for the upstairs/downstairs connection.

A plaintiff cry

'I want to go home!'  How often in my ministry I heard this cry when visiting friends in hospital or care home. In the last few days it's become painfully personal and rather loud. Unfortunately, the consultant on the ward round way back on January 19th announced to Carol that she could go home.  I missed that ward round and was greeted excitedly - 'They say I can go home!'  It was mightily unfortunate because the consultant was only speaking from the medical perspective. The strong antibiotic appears to have greatly reduced the infection so, understandably, the doctor saw Carol's bed was close to liberation for the next patient. Job done.

However, the discharge team has had other ideas. Their testing of Carol's physical condition has revealed worrying weaknesses and led them to place her in need of 'complex care' (that's their term). And setting up complex care means she is still waiting 15 days and counting.  All the time the plaintiff cry continues.

Early on, knowing  how much returning home would help settle her spirits, I campaigned to take her home and continue my homespun care.  However, I was told I would forfeit any chance of 'complex care' and, as time goes on, I now realize she does need more help than I can give. So each day we await good discharge news!

I am grateful for friends' comments and prayers supporting us on the way. Our situation is not uncommon but prayers are very welcome. 

10 hour slabs

Actually, it's sometimes 11 hours, once 9 hours. Slabs of life spent in the hospital ward this past week with Carol suffering from a serious, mystery colorectal infection.  It's an acute ward and she has a private room but everything is complicated by her dementia. As I reflect on this demanding experience - for her and me! - several things pop into my mind.

• Compassion - the nursing staff is in constant motion in the large ward but some of the care Carol has received is so cheerfully and gently given. I am keeping the names of some outstanding nurses who have gone far beyond in their kindness.  What a difference compassion makes!
• Misinformation - of course some of this comes from dear Carol herself who smiles at meaningful questions and answers with optimism.  'Do you have any pain?' ' No,' she says with confidence when earlier grimacing with spasms in her stomach or her punctured arms (courtesy of several failed cannulas),. But, there has also been confusion when I have tried to pin down the doctors. They admit it's an infection they cannot identify and (I think) they recognize that dementia doesn't help recovery. But I have heard three different scenarios which contradict each other. I pray something clearer will emerge.
• Church dynamism - ever since church friends heard about Carol's hospitalization they have whirred into action with meals for me when I return in the evening, offers of help on any level, caring emails and calls.  Our pastor came this morning to pray with us and he brought in a steaming large cup of coffee (remembering how I take it!) and a bottle of Diet Coke for Carol.  It brought me up short - in all my hospital visiting I never did anything so practical.  It really helps the 10 hours pass.
• Tiredness - this hardly needs to be added. Carol has slept very little as well as eating minimal amounts and the effort to keep things ticking over my end inevitably puts on a tad of strain. Just a little understatement there.

For those who know our situation, thank you so much for your prayers and concern. I'll let you know the outcome.

Odd and difficult

The second part of this extraordinary public announcement about the meaning of Christmas is much more difficult. The beautiful cadence of the AV reads: 'Suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, and saying Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace and goodwill.' You know what's difficult don't you? It's the words peace and goodwill. The cynic says 'Where?' Actually, you don't have to be a cynic to say that. Where in our world today can we speak of peace and goodwill?. It sounds too wonderful - that. this baby is born to bring peace and goodwill everywhere. It sounds blanket wishful thinking, magic wand thinking. And God doesn't do wishful thing, magic wand thinking. He deals personally in relationship. 

We really need to look at other translations. The NIV says: ' on earth peace for those on whom his favour rests.' The Message is even more personal: 'Peace to all men and women on earth who please God'. Profoundly and ultimately, Jesus as Prince of Peace will reign in the consummation of his mission on earth. All will bend the knee. Yet we must understand that God works in relationship with ordinary people in ordinary places now. His  peace works in two directions.  First, Jesus makes peace with God. Peace is about wholeness, belonging together, at-one-ness. We call Jesus work on the cross the AT-ONE-MENT for this is the place where, in ways far beyond our full understanding, Jesus dies in order to bring us back to God as forgiven, whole people. The first thing Jesus does as he greets his friends after he has risen from the dead is to greet them 'Peace be with you' and he says it a second time.(John 20:19,21) Because now his disciples belong with him in a peace relationship that nothing can break. Personal peace with God is the most precious transforming gift we can know.

Yet peace with God flows in another direction. When we call Jesus, Christ the Lord, acknowledging his Lordship, we belong to his new people - a kingdom of different relationships because we are Easter people. Ordinary people in ordinary places, belonging in peace and goodwill.  The baby born in a manger fulfils his destiny on the cross to create a new people. As someone put it: You will not reach your destiny unless you see this baby go to his. We are a new people knowing the risen Jesus empowered by the Spirit with love, joy, peace, patience, long-suffering, self-control. I know kindness is not on the list but these qualities add up to kindness.

When cynics say; 'Where is there peace and goodwill' they should see these groups of people like HBC where we seek to share love. Do we always succeed. Oh no! I know how churches, tragically, can fail. But I have also experienced the love and kindness of a church. Peace and goodwill. Indeed, in my own recent problems with Carol's illness that's exactly how it has been.  I am so grateful. Where else on earth is this extraordinary possibility of a group of people, so different in personality, gifting, esperiences, behaving differently together, kindly and caring because of Jesus?

I finished the sermon with the recent event in my house when Carol cried out 'Where's Jesus? when she found the empty stable (Post Dec 25th).  That really is the vital question for 2026. Where is the living Lord now in our lives.  As a busy minister, off duty one Sunday, I was in worship in my local church in London. When the service was over, the old West Indian gentleman sitting next to me, who I didn't know, said to me: How's your walk with Jesus?   That's the question for me. And it's about peace and goodwill!

Odd but very good

 The first part of the public announcement on the hillside is odd ( you wouldn't expect a God-intervention to be straightforward) but so good.  The angel with God's glory (and glory is God's own word about his presence, power, and sheer splendour which did not accompany the earlier Christmas visitations) overwhelms these ordinary men with terror. Who wouldn't be when faced with God's messenger?  Something utterly beyond material experience. Such ordinary men in an ordinary place. They really need to hear DO NOT BE AFRAID swiftly followed by: I BRING YOU GOOD NEWS OF GREAT JOY THAT WILL BE FOR ALL PEOPLE. TODAY IN THE CITY OF DAVID A SAVIOUR HAS BEEN BORN TO YOU. HE IS CHRIST THE LORD.  This is the birth announcement TODAY, and its personal.

I was in the gym recently (too rare I confess) and a young man was pumping iron effortlessly near me. An older man came up to him and spoke. With a loud excited voice the young man responded (that's how I came to hear the conversation you understand) ' Yes, two weeks to go now. We're so excited after all this time but really looking forward to it.' And the older man said how glad he was and how he hoped all would go well, 'You know this is going to change your lives forever!' I smiled. I thought of conversations like this all over the world - of expectation, excitement and maybe a little worry.  And of the utter joy in the safe birth. Some of us have been privileged to share first-hand in the TODAYNESS of such good news.  

These ordinary shepherds are suddenly plunged into living this possibility. The baby has arrived and they can be witnesses to the arrival of the long awaited Messiah. It's intensely personal. Good news of great joy.  I love to picture what happens next as the shepherds are given a sign and the senior among them says ' Let's go' having presumably organized someone to remain guarding the sheep!  Meanwhile the birth has happened with Mary going through a Call the Midwife experience, except there are no midwives though perhaps a kindly maternal woman helped. Notice that in the birth, with the pain, the cries, the ultimate joy there is no mention of an angel or glory. It's ordinary - the baby laid in a manger.  So ordinary. When suddenly there's a noise outside and a bunch of shepherds appear grinning from ear to ear. The senior one asks if they can come closer. They are so excited its almost as though this baby belongs to them! The extroverts are hugging others and jumping up and down with joy. Imagine Mary's face. Just who are these people?  Why are they so joyful - it's as though they share the moment? Crowding in from nowhere.

But when they explain they had witnessed an angel in glory who told them this is the birth to change the world and they were somehow chosen to see him for themselves, Mary realizes a deep confirmation is happening.  No wonder 'Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart (verse 19). God works in ordinary places with ordinary people.  And she knows this is going to change her life and the world's destiny forever.

Let's not forget the shepherds as the first evangelists, unstoppably spreading the word to everyone's astonishment, and returning to the fields with good news of great joy for all people. They have seen! Do you think Luke later found one of them as eyewitness?