And back.

I thought we’d never manage to pack all the contents of Clive’s room in the Lymphedema Clinic but somehow we did, and we set off for Italy at about half past eight on the morning of Tuesday 15th.

It was a long and painful journey for Clive, but cheered, towards the end, by the beautiful landscape of Le Marche and then Umbria.

Beautiful landscape

Clive isn’t one to be effusive, but I found him leaning out of a window that opens onto rose and lavender bushes, breathing deeply, and I could tell how glad he was to be home.

We’d arrived at six-thirty in the evening: time to do a bit of shopping and pick up the dogs. Taylor and Kepler were both very happy, but Joules went wild with joy when he saw Clive, and couldn’t stop jumping at him and butting him.

Lizard in the grass

The fortunate lizard

I’d just finished strimming when I saw this small green lizard ducking and diving in the cut grass.

It was very fortunate that the dogs didn’t spot it because they might have launched a three-pronged attack on it.

There are a few tail-less lizards around the place bearing witness to a close shave.

White Cross crossed out

First thing this morning I had an urgent text message from Clive in the Lymphedema Clinic asking me to go online and get in touch, which I did.

Things had come to a head with regard to the treatment he is having and the refusal of the therapists to either acknowledge or take into account the level of the pain in his back.

His attempt to cancel today’s sessions to allow himself time to recover was totally ignored, and he had had a row with one of the members of staff who had advised him to leave .

In short, he needed to come home ASAP.

Not the colours they use, but a White Cross nonetheless

So we made arrangements. I phoned the White Cross (Croce Bianca) and asked for the services of the minibus over the weekend, and also arranged for the dogs to go into kennels. Clive phoned the hotel where the White Cross drivers had stayed last time and reserved a twin room for them.

We had no sooner done this, than the top director (grandson of the founder of the clinic) walked into Clive’s room. The conversation took place in English and I was able to listen.

From a cynical point of view, the guy had come to ask Clive to stay in the interests of saving the face and  reputation of his clinic. But no-one could deny that he is a man of action. I’d been nagging literally for weeks, even direct to one of the doctors over the phone, about Clive being given a second mattress so that he could sleep more comfortably. This man had achieved the delivery of a mattress within a matter of a few hours.

It remains to be seen if the therapists can alter their approach, but we cancelled all the going-home arrangements and Clive is going to stick it out a bit longer.

Rescuing the lavender bush

The hollow in the lavender bush

The lavender bush in question has sprawled and developed a gap  in the centre down which you can see the branches, a bit like the crown of someone with thick hair who’s started to go bald.

Quite often a big green lizard (of the sort we jokingly call Komodo Dragons) lurks in the heart of the lavender bush, hidden to view but making the occasional rustling sound.

This rustling works the dogs up into a frenzy. Joules will spend ages with his nose stuck in the bush and his tail wagging and wacking whatever plant is behind him. Taylor tries to dive underneath.

Kepler has a more athletic approach. He leaps into the air and descends on the bush, paws outstretched, like a flying squirrel. From there he ploughs his way back out, parting the bush as he goes and spoiling its shape still further.

This evening I deployed a few tubs of plants to prop up the lavender fronds and pinch the hole closed as best I can. I hope it will at least keep Kepler from crash landing there any more.

Room with a view

Clive’s laptop video camera has risen to the occasion again. This is the view from his balcony.

The view from Clive's balcony in the Lymphedema Clinic

Not bad, although there won’t ever be much to actually watch, I suppose.

Here the main excitement of the day was 2 young men walking down our hill armed with chain saws. I had my back turned, pruning, and so didn’t see them till they were quite close. They’d been cutting timber in a piece of woodland belonging to the Church and had decided to take a short cut across our land, which is adjacent.

The dogs were taken by surprise as well but made up for lost time. They ranged themselves 3 abreast and barked ferociously. I was very proud of them.