Especially when you end up being the last family at the clinic – seeing an oncologist, and then an endocrinologist (who are really nice people). I think that my wife was intrigued when she was told that next week our daughter will be seeing a phlebotomist. I don’t know what my son is thinking – the endocrinologist kindly suggested that she could take some of his blood to test, so that he wouldn’t feel left out …
I was returning from New College, Edinburgh to my normal place of work. Normally, my route would take me up one of the closes (the ’s’ is soft) which abound in old Edinburgh, but this time I walked up the main street. Which meant that I passed a shop which specialises in CDs of folk music. And I bought an EP called “The Pulling Through EP 2005″ by Karine Polwart, which meant that I listened to a song called “Waterlily”, and so learned the story of Colin Mackay, which is a sad story. But by the music and the story I have been enriched, which seems unfair, somehow …
About a year ago, I started a work blog. Initially it was password protected, because I wanted to be quite free when deciding what to write. I guess that I became frustrated by the thought that no-one would ever read this blog, so, a few weeks ago, I unprotected it.
My intention was to be careful what I wrote in what was potentially a public place. But inevitably, I found myself recording aspects of the unhappiness I felt. To-day, my manager told me that he’d been reading my blog. “Which one?” I asked, blithely.
Once we’d worked out which blog he’d been reading, I must admit to having mixed feelings. We’ve agreed that it should go back to being password protected. And there shouldn’t have been anything there that my manager shouldn’t have seen. Perhaps it’s good that he’s seen an expression of feelings I normally hide. But I feel uncomfortable nevertheless. I need to be more aware that if something has been published, I can’t control who sees it.
A lady who has worked for our after school club for as long as I can remember has resigned. I expected to see her this morning, but I’ve been told that yesterday was her last day. The thing is that as a (now former) member of the management committee, I know better than most the reasons why she has left. Indeed, my wife tells me that the lady has written a letter, blaming the committee for her departure (I haven’t read the letter, but I understand that it is on a noticeboard somewhere).
My daughter asked me yesterday, “Why is [she] leaving?” I didn’t know what to say, but my daughter had asked the playleader the same question, and been told, “It’s complicated.” I wonder to what extent one of the fundamental difficulties here is that a resignation was handed in (indeed it was – in fact, she handed the letter to me, principally because I was the only member of the committee who regularly brought a child to the breakfast club), but perhaps its meaning was not, “I no longer wish to work for the club,” but rather, “I am unhappy about something.”
I’ve been praying for a different resolution – that a way could have been found for this lady to continue to work for the club – but that prayer seems to have been answered in the negative.
I have the car with me to-day, but with the dark and icy roads, I’m kind of wishing that I didn’t. Although a large box arrived this afternoon, and having the car means that I can transport it home.
I’m between being on the helpdesk and attending an AGM. The AGM is for the after school club which my children attend. I’m standing down from the committee, having been a member for about three years. It will be a relief, but tonight’s AGM is the final hurdle. I’ve finally admitted to myself that I am simply not competent to be involved in the kind of decisions this committee has to make.
In some ways, I wish that I could make the same admission regarding the helpdesk, but what would happen then? There’s been a review of our area of work, and we should have been told by the end of last month what was to be the outcome, but we’re still waiting to hear. I’m still trying to think of this situation as an opportunity, but …
The bus appears to be making even slower progress than usual to-day. And I’ve just seen the reason – an accident, a fire engine, ambulance, and police in attendance …
I had the privilege to-day of accompanying the Imagineers from my daughter’s primary school as they took part in the (first ever) Scottish heat of the UK First Lego League. Although they didn’t win, the team performed admirably.