THE YEAR IN REHASH: OCTOBER - Just Passing Through (More Ghosts)

A blink in the beautiful blooopers.

 

 Beginning to wind up this review of my favourite or at least more conspicuous posts from the last twelve months, this post from October is entirely about stuff from January (including another plug for my Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman essay) but I really enjoyed writing about this job. I have only one wince of regret, which I didn't mention before, and that's the lack of preparation I put into the shot where I return to my seat after making peace with Pat. Every time I see it I wish I'd entered looking more rattled, smiling with relief only as I turn to the window and realise closure's finally been achieved.

 

 As long-term readers of this blog will know, I maybe don't have that much experience of actual closure, so what do I know, but this just looks to me just like someone very happy with their new kitchen. That's my problem though. What a job. What a show. What a team! From October the 29th...

  This, gloriously, is the scene we filmed the day Terry Jones died. I can't think of a better way to honour the man's memory. The blow that initiates the cacophony was achieved by digitally removing Jim Howick's fist as it nears my body so it looks like it's passing through. We're not as close to each other in the still below as it looks, in other words, there's a false perspective or something, I think that's how it was done anyway, it's... Does that look right? It was back in January, I've no idea now. Welcome to Behind The Scene with Kieth Darren Dean! 

 

  I definitely remember that when I walked through Jim in the next scene, after leaving the stump, I passed him on the right and this was then digitally shunted to the left to overlap him, but you probably guessed it was something like that. There was a green screen set up outside the house. The weather was perfectly overcast, although there was no snow. It looked like this. That's frost on the ground.

 

 The frost disappeared as the day wore on, and the sky was perfectly overcast for the effects shot I enjoyed filming most which had nothing to do with passing through anything. That beautiful picture-book longshot of Keith and the Ghosts standing like transfers in a field was a composite. Lots of little shots put together. Here is a photo director Tom Kingsley posted of its filming:

 

 Spot the chancer on the far right. 

 Each of us ("us" - Get me!) had to walk up the strip of white plastic alone, pause at the end, then walk back in front of everyone else without giggling, like a shy fashion show. It was in its way the silliest thing I witnessed all week and I felt blessed to have a seat at it. Actually, it wasn't so much like a catwalk I now realise, it felt more like - Have you seen The Ususal Suspects? 

 

 (Trigger Warning:Spacey. Rudness.)

 

 Here is that episode. 

 And in other notices, continuing the Hallowee’en Countdown through Universal’s Frankensteins, here is the one instance of proper scholarlship I managed in the entire run - a piece of sleuthing that will change the way you watch 1943′s Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man FOREVER!

Behind Closed Ghosts. Last Ghosts Post. Ghost Promise.

The opening credits of Ghosts provide a pretty good approximation of the interior of West Horsley Place, where the show is filmed. The real thing's deeper, of course, and wider (and I never got to see the basement), but at the bottom left – there – you can see the pillars where we had the ghost fight, and the stairs at the back do indeed take you to ballroom, where the wedding ceremony was held. Did I take photos of the actual interior? Absolutely. Was I even allowed to? I've no idea, but to hell with the rules, I'm going to let you in anyway, yeah! Welcome, once again, to Behind The Scene, with Kieth Darren Dean!

  Okay, it seems that's all I took. I have no idea what is wrong with me. Sorry. Back to the doll's house: To the far right of the ballroom is the green room, which I was lucky enough to share with not only the stars of the show but, as I intimated here, a star of my life:

 

 Ned Mond, to give Neil Edmond his myspace name  – as I would always scrupulously do back in the early days of this blog, in order to preserve people's anonymity from my millions of followers – appears in the very first post I wrote, here, and our friendship goes back even further. Above is a picture of us from 2002, him as Hamlet, me as Polonius, and Nigel Barrett as Claudius, in Sulayman Al-Bassam's Al-Hamlet Summit, which we won a prize for in Cairo. Neil and I visited the pyramids of Giza on horseback, wobbling at a canter like a pair of Denholm Elliotts. You're never shown the back of the pyramids on telly by the way, but they have a KFC. I think Nige and the musicians took a jeep.

 As the vicar, Neil was encouraged to improvise quite a bit around the filibuster Jim Howick and Mathew Baynton wrote for him. "I had a flat-head..." I think was one of his, and I also remember something about the bride in the anecdote having "quite a meaty smell" which never made the cut. It should also be noted that his vicar is from the United Reformed Church, as Jim and Mat discovered the Church of England does not perform same-sex weddings. Yet.

 God literally bless them.

 I think I will leave it there. If you have any questions, I'll be happy to field them in the comments. The episode Neil and I are in will be up here for another ten months, as will the entire series, I assume, and it really is very good. I would like to thank everyone at Button House for having me, and also my showreel for helping me land the role, by opening with me accidentally shooting someone, then looking distraught for four minutes. If you look very hard at the last shot of the series, you'll see me waving my arms with joy behind the leads, like a pro. 

 I was feeling it. 

 Here is your moment of Den:

 

 Oh! Also! I realised, a day into starting the countdown of my Frankenstein pieces, I’d completely mistimed it, and should have started a day earlier, but anyway, here is my far from penultimate piece on 1944′s House of Frankenstein.

Them, There

 Underpants. Shorts. Skins. Breeches. And two different frocks. It was my mate Neil who observed in the green room that the captain is the only ghost from Ghosts "in full trou'". For fans of knees, brains and heart, the entirety of series 2 is now available to viewers in either the UK or the know, here. Just saying. No reason. I'm going to look at this picture a little longer.

Notebookery 3 (2003ish)

 We're jumping around chronologically. I reckon this was a birthday present from 2002, (the opening inscripition is from my housemate Jamie Wood) and much of its filling comes from the following two years. I really wanted this one to be a thing. There are overlaps with Notebookery 1: more Dance Bear Dance notes and sketches, and more illustrations to Fish-head and the Sibyl, and some accounts of work in the Middle East and Cairo. I had a lot of fun in this book, it's one of the things that inspired me to start the blog, and bits of it have appeared on here from day one. I haven't bothered to read any of this through since. It might be shocking. (Click to enlarge.)

Job Dream

 The most recent one was just this afternoon: We all turned up to a basement wearing masks, invited there by Lewis to perfom the voices of inanimate objects for a Danish Museum. I'd befriended Lewis twenty years ago, on the first ever production of Hamlet in Kuwait (see below). That's also how I'd befriended Nige, and Nige was in the room too of course. Also there were Amalia, whom I'd befriended last year in Gemma's workshop of The Maid's Tragedy, Shim, whom I'd befriended a year earlier on An Execution (By Invitation Only), and Duncan, whom I'd befriended writing for Laurence and Gus back when this blog first started. We were all sat in pairs opposite each other across five tables, reading into microphones because other actors couldn't be in the room, including Fin who was now projected onto a wall, and whom I'd befriended when I first moved into his house in Brixton, again twenty years ago. And I had honestly forgotten what it's like to spend the day with friends making work, and how much the best of these jobs feel exactly like my dreams of them.

Hamlet CNN 1 from Richard Williamson on Vimeo.

dinosaurs, reconsidered

swans

 According to an interesting thought experiment of  "Artist and Researcher" C. M. Koseman's (ah, but are we not all artists and researchers?) this is what a swan would look like "if we drew modern animals the way we draw dinosaurs, based on bones alone". Having questioned this monstering of dinosaurs myself, I would like to support Koseman's work, so here's more of it, accompanied by some relevant ponderings from this post on the old myspace blog back in May, 2009:

 "I ended up at the Natural History Museum. Passing the animatronic T Rex I was struck for the very first time by how bare not only he, but most of the other reconstructions seemed to be...

 "And I passed an illustration of a T Rex sinking its teeth into a hadrosaur and thought - Yes, if we've got that wrong, then that's exactly how we get it wrong: Take what we know about something and paint it killing something else...

 "Seeing the bones, remembering how wrong we might have got it, gazing at a scene of antlered hadrosaurs gathering at the water-hole, all this suddenly made me want once again to see not a clone, but THAT SCENE...

"I wanted a time machine. I wanted to step out of a time machine and see a T Rex at dusk trailing feathers like a peacock and scavenging some long-dead carcass while the hadrosaurs were left to butt heads in peace."

 You can see Koseman's full TED talk here. He's not a natural public speaker possibly, or indeed a scientist, but he's not claiming to be, he's just having some not unhelpful fun with the unknown. I wonder who the woman in the pictures is, whether she's real, or just another of Koseman's speculations. She's there to give a sense of human scale, I know. But, ah, are we not all here to give a sense of human scale?

 Finally, on the subject of dinosaurs actually being lovely, have a listen to this but be warned, it's powerful stuff:

Fenn, my nearly 4 year old daughter, recorded her first ever solo song today. She came up with all the words herself and I helped her a little bit with the tune. It’s called ‘Dinosaurs in Love’. 🦕❤️🦕 pic.twitter.com/erCgG0sUvP

— Tom Rosenthal (@tomrosenthal) January 28, 2020

UPDATERY: There is science behind Koseman's work. Ned Mond's just sent me a link it here.

My Heart So Full and These Empty Hands

 I found this on my phone from 2018. I also note that I wrote next to nothing in 2019. And now in 2020 every second post on F*c*book is a link to the Australian fundraiser: "Please help any way you can. This is terrifying", but this isn't F*c*book, so here are some happinesses. Firstly:

 Watching Greta Gerwig's "Little Women" is like watching the Beatles. Anyone wanting to spend two hours in a room full of kindness should find a screening. Secondly:

 Robbie Hudson wrote the first show in which I appeared with John Finnemore "Frankenstein and the Sharks of Doom", a Mighty Fin Musical with songs by Susannah Pearse. The first time I performed John's writing was another Mighty Fin Musical with songs by Susannah Pearse "Diary of a Nobody", which was also the first time I worked with Carrie Quinlan. Mighty Fin Musicals are excellent amateur dramatics is what I'm trying to prove here, and "Farm" was the Mighty Fin's first, and it's being staged again this week with all proceeds going to charity as is the point of Mighty Fin. Tickets are on sale here and other Mighty Fin merch is here. Robbie also characteristically co-wrote with Johnny Flynn a folk musical about the Magnitsky act which aired last night, and can be heard here. Thirdly:

 I was hoping to be in "Farm" myself, but another happiness occured and I was asked to play an excellent role in an excellent TV show this Friday instead, and I've just received the call sheet and my mate Ned Mond's in the episode too, so this Friday should be amazing. But that's the end of the happiness, and Friday will not be amazing because on Friday my friend Morgan is finally being evicted from Seaview, his home of forty years, and mine for three.

 I can only say again what I said in February. He helped save my life and took me in when I needed a place, and there was no one he didn't take in. His work is as generous as he is and I hate this. If I'd ever learnt a second language I'd probably run screaming from the English-speaking world right now, but I never even did that, and I've just landed a telly, speaking of which the photograph of John Logie Baird came from here. Apart from that I have no idea what to say that is both true and happy about this thing I desperately want to say something about. Morgan made a book that's very happy though, and you can buy it here.

  

 Oh, one thing I can say: Morgan shared this video on F*c*book as well, and it reminded me that I don't look at nearly enough cartoons on youtube. I love monsters and it made me very happy - it's very him - and Morgan, if you're reading this I love youse too. Everyone else, have a happy and maybe helpful week. Here's a million monsters:

"Putting Gaston in his Place": Attitudes towards Animism, Predeterminism and Liminality in that youtube video

 Here's a very charming video of a theme park actor enjoying four minutes of actual acting. I know, from working in the London Dungeon, that in a job like this – normally all character and no drama – a heckling child who totally buys into it can be water in the desert.

  #NOTALLMEN

  But the real reason I'm posting this video is because of  the comment Neil "Ned Mond" Edmond made below, which I think is brilliant and useful:

"What I mainly like about this is that the girl's relationship with the characters and narrative matches what I hope eg. a pre-Christian norseman's relationship with a god might have been: The story is both finished and ongoing, and intervention is meaningful even when the result is predetermined."

See also: playing with Star Wars figures.

Barf to the World!

Well that was nice. Popping into Lanna's flat before heading out once again to a pub I bumped into Ned Mond. He lives very nearby now and we hugged and wished each other Happy New Year and shared our plans for the next six hours.
"I like to get to sleep before the new year," said Ned, "I really do, then get up very early, go into town - it's harder now I live further out - and look at all the vomit."
"Oh wow."
"It's like..."
"A baptism?"
"I am Legend. But you know what got 'em."
Anyway I thought I should post something for New Year's so thanks for that, Ned. Happy 2013, everyone! Spacehats!

Some vomit I found last week in Gatwick airport, relieving slightly the compensatory anxiety brought about by a life too taken care of - the sudden realisation standing over a urinal as my effluent is pumped to the sea that the last minute has been lived on autopilot - the double-take necessitated to confirm I do indeed have my knob out in the Gents' and not, say, the Ladies', or over a laptop in Costa. Phew.

"YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!" and other amazing dialogue.

(originally posted on myspace here)

Well the Giant Death Ray sketch finally aired. My parents were over from France and we perched in front of the telly - none of us dead - with a Chinese takeaway just like the old days, only now it was Susy's High-Definifitive Plasmaniscus Tellitron before which we sat and one of the things on was mine. Maybe that's why I thought it was a particularly good episode, because we were all there, but no there so many of my favourite sketches from the recording there and to be sandwiched between the Woman Ad/ Man Ad sketch and Remain Indoors felt amazing. Oh, and Ben Fuller's scorpion was, well...

Sweeet indeed. (I just wish my writing hadn't been so salad-y, so un-nailed. I mean it's FINE, but everybody else's work on the sketch is SUPER SUPER FINE). All in all it's been a good week for my inner geek. I would go into details - mutant herons, finding a feral kid, comics, Yadda Yoda - but someone's got a free ticket to Daniel Kitson in Regent's Park - I have never seen him. Is he bucolic?  - anyway I must skoot. Meanwhile David and Rob and the excellent James Bachman are, among other places, here.

STATUS UPDATES FROM SUSY (for Susy)... or Work continues on The Git

I'd always imagined myself good in a crisis. I'd always thought, "Yes, I'm not the most proactive person I know, but if suddenly called upon to think quickly and get people out of a hole, that's where I'll shine, that's when – as Rob Webb predicted on the night of February the 7th – the sleeper will wake". I now know, however, this is not the case. Woken in the bath later that night, by a room full of smoke, staggering out onto the landing, clutching towels and dressing gown to find smoke again, drawn to my room by the sound of burning, to find my bed on fire and smoke (which may or may not but basically must have had something to do with this), and now rendered numpty by shame, I run down to the kitchen where, uncharacteristically, there is no smoke, and fill a bowl with water.

We have a fire extinguisher. It is in the bathroom.

Running naked back to my room (totally disregarding, as John Finnemore later pointed out in an email entitled "too soon?" Gareth Edwards' countless announcements before every radio recording to run TOWARDS the green lights in the event of a fire, and AWAY from the red flickering lights) I throw what water has not been spilt onto the bed. This doesn't work. If you've seen the film The Dead Zone it is not like that. It is basically just smoke. I run upstairs and go "Guys? Fire?" I don't know who else is in the house.

Well, it transpired Dan was in the house, shouting out of the window for help, which arrived to wake and walk me naked out of the front door and into an ambulance. Then Dan, having saved my life, and also on his way to hospital, called Tom who had a number for my parents in France, who in turn called my sister. At about five in the morning, having been conscious enough to give my date of birth, and permission to pierce my eardrum so I could be wheeled, anesthetized, into something called a hyperbaric chamber (in fact this very one) where work could indeed continue on the git, I regained consciousness a third time, to find myself wearing a plastic hood, and surrounded by my family over from France PDQ. This was very weird and cheering, as was the news that Dan had already been discharged, and that I hadn't killed anyone... and now I'm going to hand over to my sister, who has kept possibly most of you readers up to date via her status updates, notes, and groups on facebook. I'll butt in once or twice, and illustrate it with a few photos of the Nightingale Ward, but I want to put her account up here first.

 

(Felicity Kendall as Laika on life support, 

from a totally unrelated post I meant to blog before, well, this...)

"Feb 8th
11:57am Susy's brother Simon was in a fire and is in intensive care. Facebook status not best way to let you guys know. Please keep yor fingers crossed, thanks.

11:57pm Susy is tired but relieved. Simon still in intensive care but "out of danger" apparently. Even tried to crack a joke. Thank you so much for all the good wishes.x.

Feb 9th

Simon can't take visitors yet, as he's still in ICU. If/when (fingers crossed) he can see you lot I'll let you know asap. Thanks again, so so much xx.

Simon is out of intensive care but still very ill so can't see visitors yet. They've got the last bits of poison out of his body though. Blood tests tomorrow.

Feb 10th
Simon compos mentis, although still with oxygen and a lot of coughing. He'll get there. We all feel so grateful. Si says he feels very rich with such friends."

(the room in which I spent two and a half weeks)

"Feb 12th
Hi everyone.

Apologies if I've tagged you and you barely know Simon - I'm trying to cover everyone who might know him and/or want to know how he's getting on.

Simon knows I've been updating my Facebook status about him, and so has written a note to send to you all:

'Hello Hello Everyone.

Thank you so much for all your support. I am fine. Well, I'm not, I'm wheezy, but I'm getting better and all the carbon monoxide was pumped out of me two days ago in a weird kind of submarine. My burns are superficial and cool and anyway only on my bum. I am in a bed opposite a woman with swollen legs called Robert. It's all good.

Go Mickey Rourke! Go Susy! Cheers. There'll be updates here as and when...

Thanks everyone.

Simon X'

My update:

Simon seems to be stronger today, although he isn't quite out of the woods. He is still needing oxygen and they'll be doing a series of tests tomorrow to work out how damaged his lungs really are and how fast or slowly they're recovering. Fingers crossed he'll be able to cope without the oxygen soon. His progress in these short four days has been miraculous though. He couldn't speak two days ago. He has a voice now.

From my entirely non-scientific perspective he can talk for far longer than yesterday before getting tired, which says to me he's getting stronger. He is coughing almost constantly but that is essential to get the shit up out of his lungs, which he seems to be. His friends Rufus and Ella visited him today which cheered him up no end.

As long as he isn't totally bombarded, and people realise he may get tired (and will cough constantly) he is happy for anyone else who wants to visit him to do so.

He is positive, determined to get better, philosophical, in good humour (he doesn't know any other kind of course) and relieved beyond belief about... everything. He is also moved beyond words and so very grateful for the support both he and my family have been given by you all. As are we.

Special shout out to his housemates, and Tom Brodie (stage name Lyall) in particular, who was still laying out individual drawings, letters, paintings and photos all over his new flat once we'd left him this evening that he had rescued from days of sifting through the - frankly destroyed - room. Many personal and irreplaceable items are damp, charred, but OK and safe purely thanks to Tom, and without him Simon really would have lost everything. If you know him, please give him a hug. Or a manly pint. Or five."

(To which it's only fair to say Tom then added "You're awfully sweet about me but, really, clearing the house has been a group effort and as much and more credit must go to Dan, Seb, Jamie, Wendy, Naomi, Selina, Lucy, Tom F. and other friends, family and neighbours, who have faced up to a truly horrible job with amazing strength and good humour." Back to Susy:)

"As per the last few days (do look back over them if this is all news to you!) I'll keep updating my status on his progress. The recovery curve will be less steep now, as the hardest fight of all - ie not dying - is over and Si's into the long boring slog of recuperating. He's very positive about the future though - he's seeing it as an exciting new start. We also have photos of various stages of the last few days, as macabre as that is - but they're not for the faint hearted so I'll let him post them when he's back on his 'blog'. As you'll see Simon remained hilarious even when smacked out on drugs and his brain was 40% carbon monoxide. Amazing stuff." (LATE POST: Yeah I've now put up one of those photos just before the 9th, me in the hood as a human USB port.) "Thank you all again. I'll keep you posted via my status. Mum and me (Dad's gone back to France to prepare for his heart surgery - brilliant) will be in every day but may miss you... Simon likes grapes. And there is indeed a large woman opposite him called Robert."

(Not true actually. I later learnt Robert was a man. My first night on the ward was weirdly punctuated by him quoting almost verbatim a Dungeon script: 'Can you smell it? Have a whiff! Go on, have a whiff!' On Friday I learn they're going to 'keep me in over the weekend'. Back to Susy:)

"Love and thanks to you all,

Susy xxxx"

"Feb16th
Hi all,

Sorry for not updating sooner. Simon went in for tests today, where they sent a camera and sample taker (I may have made that term up) into his lungs and his throat to have a proper look at the extent of the damage. The good news is his lungs look like there won't be too much lasting damage and will, in time, recover by themselves, which of course is amazing.

The not so great news is he's had a fever now for nearly four days. Simon was forcing himself to cough and cough to try and get the stuff up out of his lungs, which has gone from black to red to green, and is very possibly the reason his lungs look set to eventually repair. But in so doing - and he had been trying to talk too much to us and visitors too - he made his throat red raw and inflamed, or even more so as he had an oxygen tube down there, and now today with the tests further things going down there which hasn't helped.

After the tests today Simon was put on extra strong antibiotics, but he had an allergic reaction which was pretty scary and very 'House' and immediately had to be taken off them. He's very red. He's back on heavy oxygen too to try and open his lungs back up after the tests. After he had recovered from the reaction and the crisis calmed down he looked at my Mum's tear stained face and did manage to croak : 'Well at least it's alleviated the boredom'.

(Hmm, the thing is it genuinely DID alleviate the boredom, at least SOMETHING was happening to my body. I wasn't being brave. And it's not like I flat-lined or anything. No I was clearly having a better time of this than anyone else. Back to Susy:)

"So we sit and wait and hope the fever comes down. Meanwhile we're telling only good bits of news to Dad who is down in France waiting to go in for heart surgery on Monday. We want to keep him calm obviously so if you know him please only mention you hear Si's doing well and his lungs will recover. Mum will have to go down this weekend to look after him so I'll be looking after Si alone after that, and God willing he gets over this fever and gets back on his feet he'll probably stay with me at mine while he reaclimatises to the outside world again, and while Dad recovers we hope back at Mum and Dad's. That's the plan anyway. Fingers crossed/pray it happens, and that you can all come visit and play offensively named card games with the two of us round at mine.

Sorry for the unbouncey tone. Mum and I were far bouncier yesterday. It goes in waves. I'll update with a new note if/when there's changes or more news. For now though any positive vibes sent Si (and my Dad)'s way much appreciated.

Thanks so much again for all your messages of support,

Susy
x"

"Feb 18th
Simon's fever came down today, although he still has the infection (Fungi, apparently, possibly from the carbon monoxide poisoning but also possibly from flowers, grapes or cherries. So no more flowers for now, I'm afraid, although they all look lovely now in the day room.)

So he is a lot more comfortable today, and has started to be able to concentrate a little, enough to read a short article, or write a short TEXT (yes he now has a phone. But no voice. DON'T CALL him! OR email him as he can't concentrate long enough. But you can now text him, which is splendid. Don't overload him though or his brain will melt). But multi-tasking is even more of a no-no for him at present than it was before the fire.

He is still too vulnerable for visitors at present, but as I said he can write texts now - please be frugal at first while he gets his brain in gear - and do bear in mind he is very weak and exhausted, so keep things brief for now if possible. He is, wonderfully, still absolutely Simon though.

One thing he's found is that the Carry On films and Only When I Laugh and the like are big fat liars. Simon always thought being in hospital would mean debonairing it about and holding court like David Niven in A Matter of Life and Death. Apparently it isn't like that at all. It's just shit.

 

They were selling us a LIE.

Simon IS starting to get quite Niven like today though, in my opinion, and the nurses seem to agree. So I've posted these photos me and my Mum took today. We are now thinking of hiring him out.

Much much love to you all and, for now, much momentary relief,

Susy xxx"

(Susy then set up the SIMON KANE IN HOSPITAL group, while I had a psychotic episode.)

"Feb 19th
Simon has asked me to set up this group, so people can talk, post, and he can hopefully take over from me when he is a bit better and out of hospital. Do let people know - it will mean I can be more self-indulgent with my own status updates, and we can liaise about visits/what to do when you're there/not going in when ill/WASHING YOUR HANDS that sort of thing.

Leave messages for Simon here too and I will pass them on (or get in touch personally if your message is more poysonel).

Recent News:
Simon had a wobble today as he is allergic to the steroids they put him on (like he was with the antibiotics two days ago, poor chap). But he's off them now and has calmed back down again. Still weak, still no voice, and must still rest...
He's recorded a video I will try and post up, although it's hard to hear so I may have to transcribe it.
And today he wrote this note for you all:

'Little Note from Simon'
This is incredibly selfish of me - I am still weak and mad off steroids which they have happily stopped - but it would be WONDERFUL to see people. BUT I may not be able to speak.

Have you seen that episode of "Fawlty Towers" where Connie Booth Stuffs cotton wool in her cheeks and Ken Campbell says "What about a choc ice?" It might be as disappointing as that. But seeing friends may keep me from going completely Christian Bale. Check with Sis.

Thankyou everyone. Do come.'

"Feb20th
Hi all.

Sorry about this, but...

This is the situation with Simon's throat. The bacterial (fungal) infection hasn't gone away." (This is because I was shouting a lot because I'd gone mad.) "The series of drugs they have been trying to combat it have all so far had adverse effects, some quite dramatic, and these have set back Simon's progress. There is already a danger of long term scarring on his vocal chords which could in turn lead to lifetime respiratory problems. If Simon's infection doesn't clear up soon this could be much much worse.

BUT... when Simon sees his friends, he wants to talk to them. He was still 'up' from the steroid psychosis today and talked/croaked for a couple of hours to visitors. The Sister is very concerned about this, and although Si doesn't want to worry people, or not have visitors, as his sister I kinda have to do what's best long term for Simon.

SO... if I could please ask the following: before you go in to visit Simon, please call me first. This way I can stagger visits so he doesn't have too much on one day (I'm thinking one to two visits per day for the next crucial three days). The gelling of hands, not going in with any lurgy, and now not bringing in any fruit or flowers or any unpackaged food goes without saying.

But most of all, if/when you do visit him, you MUST insist he hardly speaks, if at all. This is imperative. If possible, have some reason why you can only stay 15/20 minutes mx. This will keep his speaking to a minimum, and will also mean he gets a rest between visits. It's a hell of a trek out there so you may well feel it's not worth it until his infection has gone, or until he's out and staying at mine. In which case you can always write to him, or send him books, mix CDs, audio book CDs etc, or just a card. Or even a text (NO CALLS though, obviously!)

Sorry for being so Nurse Ratchety. The next few days are crucial though. I'll be in every day until our Dad's op so can relay messages and organise visits. Do get in touch with me first though, just for the next three or so days.

Thanks. Sorry. But thanks.

Nursey xxx

(To which Ned added: "He needs drink. He told me in a dream." to which Susy added: "That's reliable enough evidence for me, Neil. I'll leave it to you to smuggle it in.")

 

(I'd get through three of these a day, then gave up replacing them and just emptied the contents down the sink. Said contents always departed as one slow, almost sentient blob.)

"Feb 21st
So Mum's gone back to France now to look after Dad and I am officially Big Mamma now.

The great news today was that they halved the amount of oxygen Simon is dependent on and he is coping with that fine. It's a moral boost for him especially as it's tangible evidence of his improvement. And once he's off the oxygen entirely he'll be able to stray away from one corner of one long ward, which will be brilliant for him. That and getting rid of the infection are the main things keeping him in hospital, so it's a great step forward for now.

He's being very good though at present and whispering instead of trying to talk - if you do visit him do make sure he keeps this up, even if his throat feels a bit better.

The main thing at present though for potential visitors is keeping him CALM. The steroids had an adverse effect and that is still working its way out of his body, so if you overload him with information, talk too animatedly, get him too excited/passionate/angry/amused etc he will start to go a bit manic again. You'll see when it starts to happen."

(I was not aware of this. Or at least I was not aware Susy was aware of this.)

"Try and remember to act very chilled, laid back, and gentle when you see him. He may well be back to normal by tomorrow but his heart rate has been raised and he mustn't get too agitated, which is tricky when he sees his lovely pals. Just talk gently, calm him back down, take the conversation slowly and just be a soothing, warm presence for him. The Dude abides.

I'll be in every day quietly watching films with him so do get in touch. I may not be in til 4 some days though. (visiting hours 2:30 - 7:30). And of course we do need to stagger visits so liaise with me if you can.

Tonight though, Mum is back safely with Dad in France, and Simon was looking good. Blood test/infection results to follow. I'm off for that threesome with Messrs Pinot and Nitol."

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(To which Ned added: "That time when they thought I had AIDS but it turned out to be weird pneumonia that escaped my lungs into my skin, I was on steroids for three months. On my first day out of hospital - as soon as my girlfriend had gone to work - I picked up a lump hammer and demolished a ramshackle conservatory. In my pyjamas. Steroids are DIY hulkage." I'm going to write more about this psychotic episode later. My episode. Not Ned's. I took notes.)

(my little morning manga face of pills)

"Simon is on half the oxygen he was on, and finding that fine, and is hoping to be off oxygen entirely pretty soon. This may even coincide with him coming off his (two) antibiotics. Once he's off oxygen he'll be able to leave the ward for a bit and take a stroll, hurrah (there's a small duck pond which is very nice I want to show him), and then if he's doing ok after all that he will soon be able to leave and come to mine to recuperate there for a bit. From my POV he's looking SO so much better. He must still whisper for now though. Thankyou.

Feb 23rd
Hi all. Confused new members, in brief: Simon was in a fire at his house, it was very bad, he's lost all his stuff and he was very very ill, but now he's out of intensive care and has been slowly recovering with a couple of scary setbacks. There. Now you're all up to date. Here's the latest news as of this morning:

Simon saw the doctor today who said his infection is clearing up, according to his recent blood tests, his chest is sounding pretty good and they have halved his oxygen to only one point, which is, obviously, one away from no points, which is none. So if all continues Simon may be out LATER THIS WEEK. Which is brilliant brilliant news.

He'll be staying at mine in Hampstead for a bit once he's out so you'll be forced to liaise with Nursey if you want to visit. My mobile is ------ --- ---. Don't pass that around willy nilly though. I'm not a strumpet.

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(One of two views of Leytonstone afforded by the Nightingale Ward. The other was a car park. Both looked wonderful.)

"Feb 24th
Hello all. Simon has come off the oxygen, and the heavy antibiotics, and is being discharged TOMORROW. HUZZAH!

I have to manically tidy my flat now and set up a room for him, so give him a couple of days to get used to being out of hospital and then perhaps people can pop by if they wish to say hi. Drop us a line.

And for those that know our Dad, he's out of heart surgery and in intensive care, but it went smoothly. Next 24 hours crucial but they're not foreseeing any problems touch wood. So fingers crossed.

Oh, and if anyone wants to take NURSEY out for a drink after all this Kane men shit that would be much appreciated too."


And so yes I'm back on f*c*b**k until my life reboots. Thank you Susy, and thank you everyone, to be continued but while I'm here, here are some answers:
FUN PAGE - My understanding of what an Olympic village should look like in 2012...
FUN PAGE 3.1 - The famous "Montauk Robert Palmer Hoax" which can still be seen lying unswept in the corner of the Instruments Room of the Horniman...
FUN PAGE 3.2 - Rhetorical question.

 

 

(Not Susy and me. But very nearby.)