Michæl McFarland Campbell

I have never really been one for gardening. Even when I was growing up, I think the most successful planting I ever did was of some cress in school. And I think that only worked because everyone else’s did as well. So you can imagine my surprise that in the last month I have been planting some plants in pots in the front garden of our house. 

Now, this may have something to do with living close to a branch of Glanbia’s Countrylife here in County Kildare. Not having a car makes buying plants, pots, and bags of compost quite difficult. Ok, so the buying of them is the easy part, it is the getting them home from the garden centre that has historically been the difficult part. But, as I said, Countrylife is about 500 metres from the house, so there really is now no excuse. Even when there is an item or three that is too heavy, the local store will arrange delivery by a helpful assistant as they did with the three bags of compost. 

The first day that Andrew and I went there, we bought one pot and put three heather plants in it. The next week, I went back and bought another larger pot and put a plant in it. Today, I went bought two smaller pots but in green and put some lavender in one and some “Tickled Pink” dianthus in the other.

All of the pots are from Lemonfield Pottery’s Botanical Gardens range. Unfortunately, Lemonfield Pottery is trade only, but they do produce some lovely pots. I’m sure your local garden centre will be able to source them should you want them. 

But why did I start on this gardening? Well, I had read that gardening can be good for your mental health. It is also good to get out into nature, and living in the countryside I had been noticing more and more of the flowers around us. Wouldn’t it be pleasant to have some close by? So, that is basically why I am doing it. The lavender may also be useful later on in the summer as Andrew really loves the smell of it: it is useful for helping him to go to sleep. Hopefully we can use some of our own to assist. 

Originally posted on HIVBLogger.com.

Every year, I work hard to keep my knowledge and skills up to date with CPD. At the end of March 2022, I had completed a year of CPD with CIPR — the Chartered Institute of Public Relations. This means that I maintain my Accredited PR Practitioner status, but more importantly it illustrates that I take the profession seriously. I urge everyone in their various professions to work to complete continuing professional development each year. It really is the best way to stay at the top of your game.

We’re all surrounded by advertisements about this app, or some other device that can help make our lives better. Sometimes we get absorbed by the app or the device to the point that it seems that it is the most important thing in our lives. That is what started to happen with my Fitbit last summer. I decided to take a break from using it, and to come back to it when I was ready.

In the last few weeks, I have been wanting to use it, but having moved house since I last used it, I know not where the charger is. So today, I relented and ordered a second charger. Note, I do not say a replacement. It is a second one, so that when the first one turns up, I have a spare.

Having grown up in Scouting, I enjoy collecting badges, you never know how many I might get. Fitbit, helpfully, keeps track of them for you. If you want to connect with me on Fitbit, have a look at my profile, you too can see how many badges I have (if you become a friend).

This time, the tool will be just a part of the wider spectrum of life, rather than becoming the centre. Watch out for further updates.

That first piece, When to the temple Mary went by Johannes Eccard was a favourite of mine when I sang in the parish choir of my home parish church of St Patrick, Kilconriola (Ballymena). This evening, I did not expect to be listening to it, let alone writing a blog piece about the music at all. How did this come about?

Well, earlier today I was contacted by a contact with whom I have had no contact for at least eleven years. However, as a result of the contact made on Facebook earlier, this evening I have been exploring some music on Youtube. 

The first piece was Roger Quilter’s Where the Rainbow Ends, played on the piano by John Kersey. 

https://youtu.be/JRKAz-7ajnI

From there, I moved on to Roger Quilter’s Non nobis Domine, which I know I sang but once, but it brought back so many memories. 

And then Greater love hath no man by John Ireland. This was a great favourite when I sang in my home parish choir from the age of seven until my early twenties. In my time, I had sung the Treble, Bass, and Tenor parts. Each of them came back to me as I heard the music. 

Sumsion’s They that go down to the sea in ships came to mind as well, having sung it on a Royal School of Church Music Choristers’ Course, and then whilst at school, having attempted to learn the organ part. 

Church music has been part of my life since the age of seven. In recent years, I have not had the opportunity to sing any of it as there is no choir in the parish here, and even before that, I was not singing in any choir at all. I must admit that I do miss singing these great pieces, and I wonder if they are still sung in my home parish church, however, I fear that with the current incumbent, this is most unlikely. 

More music that I remember singing in that choir includes:

Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in G, by C.V. Stanford

Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in Bb, by C.V. Stanford

Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in C, by C.V. Stanford

Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis Collegium Regale, by Herbert Howells

Communion Service in F by Herbert Sumsion

Communion Service plainsong by John Merbecke

A Celtic Eucharist by Martin White

Communion Service by William Matthias

Anthems included:

A Gaelic Blessing, John Rutter

Above all praise, Felix Mendelssohn

Ave verum corpus, William Byrd

Ave verum corpus, Edward Elgar

Ave verum corpus, W.A. Mozart

Awake, thou wintry earth, J.S. Bach

Blessed be the God and Father, S.S. Wesley

Call tor remembrance, Richard Farrant

Cantate Domino, Giuseppe Ottavio Pitoni, ed. R.R. Terry

Come, Holy Ghost, Thomas Attwood, ed. Lionel Dakers

Come, ye faithful raise the strain, R.S. Thatcher

Evening Hymn, H. Balfour Gardiner

God be in my head, H. Walford Davies

God be in my head, John Rutter

God so loved the world, John Goss

If we believe, John Goss

If ye love me, Thomas Tallis

Jesu, joy of man’s desiring, J.S. Bach

King of glory, King of peace, J.S. Bach

Lead me, Lord, S.S. Wesley

Let thy merciful ears, O Lord, [? Thomas] Mudd

Let us now praise famous men, R. Vaughan Williams

Locus iste, Anton Bruckner

Lord, for thy tender mercy’s sake, Farrant

My eyes for beauty pine, Herbert Howells

My shepherd is Lord, Harrison Oxley

My soul, there is a country, C. Hubert H. Parry

Never weather-beaten sail, Charles Wood

O gladsome light, O grace, Louis Bourgeois, set by Claude Goudimel, ed. Henry G. Ley

O how amiable, R. Vaughan Williams

O Lord, increase our faith, Henry Loosemore

O Lord, the maker of all things, William Mundy

O Lorde, the maker of al thing, John Joubert

O Saviour of the world, John Goss

O thou, the central orb, Charles Wood

Praise, O praise, Martin How

Pray that Jerusalem, C.V. Stanford

Rejoice in the Lord alway, Henry Purcell

So they gave their bodies, Peter Aston

The strife is o’er, Henry G. Ley

This is the record of John, Orlando Gibbons

Thou visitest the earth, Maurice Greene

Turn back O Man, arranged by Gustav Holst

Turn thy face from my sins, Thomas Attwood

Wash me throughly, S.S. Wesley

When to the temple Mary went, Johannes Eccard

Zadok the Priest, G.F. Handel

Having not yet sourced a new emporium from which to acquire the food necessary to feed the three felines with whom I share the house with Andrew, I returned to our old town to buy the requisite bag of cat food from the veterinary surgeon there as we have for the last three-and-a-half years. As I walked from the station to the vet’s, I ran into a former neighbour, who greeted me with:

Happy Christmas, if you celebrate it as I don’t know if gay people do.

I must admit that I was somewhat taken aback at this strange greeting, but managed to respond with:

We celebrate everything as normal. Had you taken the time to get to speak to us properly in the three-and-a-half years we had lived next door, you would know.

Two things can be learned from this exchange. First of all, at least the exchange began with “Happy Christmas”. That is a positive greeting. The latter part may have been that she wanted to learn. Secondly, I can manage to keep a straight face when giving an answer to such a question!

What a year it has been for all of us! The ongoing Coronavirus Pandemic has ensured that we have not strayed much further than Dublin or Port Laoise in the last twelve months. We did have a one-day excursion to Cork city in the summer and we are sure that we will be returning to visit that city more when we are able.

We didn’t manage to get our Christmas cards written again this year. We have joked in the last few years that we do not have a month of November but one of Second October as so often something bad happens during that month. This year, we suddenly had to move from Portarlington and we now live in Monasterevin across the county boundary in Co. Kildare. Unfortunately, we had to move at the point in the year when the cards were to have been written — and we have not had a chance since we moved to do so.

Both Andrew and I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. We hope that we will be able to travel more easily in 2022 and see more of our friends than in 2021.

Each year at Remembrancetide, I try to find some connection with those who served in the First and Second World Wars to make it mean something more to me. This year, I thought that it would be good to see if there were connections with Dublin where I currently am a Scouter with Scouting Ireland.

With thanks to the Scouts Roll of Honour hosted by The Scout Association in the UK, we are able to find out that there were at least eight Scouts/Scouters from Dublin troops who died in the First World War, and at least 16 in the Second World War.

Their names and troop information are listed below, together with information about their service and when they died where it is known.

First World War

Name	Date of death	Service	Scout connection
Captain G.G. Duggan	17 August 1915	5th Battalion Royal Irish Fusiliers	Honorary Secretary Financial Committee Dublin Boy Scouts
Able Seaman Robert Valentine		HMS Vanguard	Late Scout, 7th Co. Dublin (Donnybrook) Troop
Private Fred Burrows	13 November 1916	Royal Dublin Fusiliers	Late boatman, 1st Port of Dublin Sea Scouts
Trooper Philip de Ruyter	13 December 1917	South Irish Horse	Late Patrol Leader, 1st Port of Dublin Sea Scouts
Bernard Ferries		Carpenters’ Crew, HMS Vanguard	Late Assistant Scoutmaster, 1st Port of Dublin Sea Scouts
Seaman Henry Mills		HMS Indefatigable	Late Boatman, 1st Port of Dublin Sea Scouts
Private A.W. Fowler	4 September 1918	Hampshire Regiment	Late Scout, 6th County of Dublin (Leeson Park) Troop
Corporal Albert E. Narramore	8 October 1918	Royal Dublin Fusiliers	Late Scout, 6th South Dublin (Leeson Park), Troop

Second World War

Name	Date of death	Service	Scouting connection
Engineer Francis James Burke	16 April 1942	Royal Navy	28th Dublin Group
R. Hall		Royal Air Force	8th Dublin (Clontarf) Group
Sergeant Observer T.C. Hammond	September 1939	Royal Air Force	6th South Dublin (Leeson Park) Group
E. Howley		Army	8th Dublin (Clontarf) Group
Sergeant W.E.B. Jesse DFC		Royal Air Force	32nd Dublin Group
Ordinary Seaman Edward Kearney	19 September 1941	Merchant Navy	2nd Port of Dublin (Clontarf) Group
Chief Officer John Knight	17 February 1941	Merchant Navy	3rd Port of Dublin Sea Scout Group
W. Lloyd		Royal Artillery	6th South Dublin (Leeson Park) Group
Flight Sergeant Edward Walter McGrath	29 November 1944	Royal Air Force	1st Dublin (Lord Holmpatrick’s Own) Group
Leading Aircraftman Thomas J. Murray	16 July 1940	Royal Air Force	28th Dublin Group
Gunner Bernard O’Rafferty	9 June 1941	Royal Navy	3rd Port of Dublin Sea Scouts
Sergeant D. Orr		Royal Air Force	33rd Dublin (Sandford Church) Group
Sergeant D. Rowe		Royal Air Force	33rd Dublin (Sandford Church) Group
Horace Savage	24 July 1943	Army	8th Dublin (Clontarf) Group
Lieutenant C. Small		Army	33rd Dublin (Sandford Church) Group
Rear Gunner A. Thompson		Royal Air Force	13th Dublin (1st Blackrock Avoca School) Group

Tomorrow morning, when there is a two minutes’ silence whilst I am at church, I will be thinking of these Scouts and Scouters who died in the service of their King and Country during both the First and Second World Wars. I will also give thanks for the peace that we enjoy in our day and age. I hope that Dublin Scouts will remember their fallen still.

At the going down of the sun,
and in the morning,
we will remember them.

Laurence Binyon, For the Fallen.

Every year since 1919, the nation has paused for two minutes in silence remembering the millions of men and women from Britain, Ireland and the Commonwealth who have served and sacrificed in defence of our democracy and way of life. Remembrance unites our communities across faiths, cultures, and generations, and the Royal British Legion want to inspire and encourage a new generation to take part in the two-minute silence and to engage with Remembrance in either traditional or new ways.

Therefore, for this Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday, we have created a new ‘Pause’ film featuring spoken word artist Eno Mfon. This film both underlines why it is so important that we pause, breathe and reflect together for two-minutes as well as providing an engaging platform to discuss Remembrance and what it means to individuals and communities.

Royal British Legion

The Legion would like to encourage you to share the Pause film with your family, friends, networks and community, so we all pause, breathe and reflect together this Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday.

You can find the Pause film on via this link:

You can read more of my thoughts about Remembrance at Our Brave Boys: some thoughts on Armistice 100.

By days, weeks, months, and years, kidney dialysis patients learn to live with their thrice-weekly life-saving dialysis treatment. The alternative of not having treatment at all is much worse. Most of us still want to live; so, in order that we might continue to do so, we travel from our home to our dialysis unit three times each week and sit in our chair or bed for anything from 3½ to 4½ hours at a time, so that the dialysis machine can do its work and clean our blood as a replacement for our failed kidneys.

As kidney patients, we have little control in our treatment. We are usually told where we will go for dialysis, what time to be there, and what time we will finish. We are reminded about what we can—and usually what we cannot—eat, and how much we are allowed to drink each day. For me, that is one litre of fluid in the day as I am basically anuric. One litre of fluid is quite quick to mount up if you don’t take a note of what you have drunk, as you drink it.

Historically, I have never been one for knowing my weight on a weekly, let alone daily, basis. That has changed with the renal failure. On arrival to the dialysis unit, the first thing we all do is to go and get ourselve weighed. This allows the nurses to calculate how much fluid we need to remove to return us to our “dry weight”. When this is done, the amount in millilitres is entered into the machine, and off we go.

For most dialyis patients, they come in and everything is done by the nursing staff in the dialysis unit they attend. For most people, this seems to be what they want to happen. There is little patient control on what happens. But there is an alternative. It is possible to take some responsibility for your own dialysis; to take part in some of the procedures that are needed to ensure that dialysis functions well.

Education

When I was a patient in the Midland Regional Hospital at Tullamore, I was fortune to be offered this option. I was educated in how to prepare the dialysis machine, how to set up the trolley in advance of dialysis, how to cannulate myself (put the needles in), and how to take them out at the end. These are big steps that I am sure must seem very scary to patient swho are not used to doing them, and who are used to letting the nurses do all of this.

Doing these parts of the process gave me some control over my dialysis. For me, it is important to take ownership of the treatment. It is not something done to me; it is something in which I take an active part.

For a while, once I was on the twilight shift at Tullamore, I did revert to letting the nurses do most of the process, as it meant that I was in and out in as short a time as possible. But then, in the spring of this year, I changed dialysis uni to the B Braun Wellstone Midlands Renal Care Centre in Port Laoise. I visited one week to see what it was like, and then the next week, my care was switched there. One of the main reasons that I moved was that there is a self-care room built into the unit. I am not using it yet, because it is currently in use as the isolation room for COVID-19, but the plan is that when COVID-19 is over, I will be able to do so.

Typical dialysis day

So, I now have more control over my own dialysis. A typical dialysis day for me sees the following happen on arrival to the unit:

1. On arrival, my temperature is taken, and I take a note of it;
2. I weigh myself, and record that in my notebook;
3. I calculate how much fluid we’re going to take off by subtracting my dry weight from the weight recorded, and adding the Washback. Then I record that in my notebook too:
4. I then check that I have all that I need to cannulate and to come off dialysis:
   • An on/off pack;
   • 3 syringes of saline;
   • 2 buttonhole needles;
   • 1 single-use tourniquet;
   • 1 pair of tweezers;
   • 2 plasters;
   • tape for holding the needles in place;
   • disinfection fluid; and
   • any medication needed.
5. Once I have confirmed that I hae all I need, I wash my hands, and start to prepare the trolley.
   • I open the on/off pack, and lay the “on” pack on the trolley setting the “off” pack to one side for later;
   • I open the “on” pack, and place the sheets of gauze in the top left-hand corner of the sheet, and place the sheet for under my arm on the pillow on my chair;
   • I open the buttonhole needle packs, and allow the needle to drop onto the sheet, then do the same with the saline syringes; and then I put the saline into the needles, and lay the tips of the needles on the gauze;
   • Then I put the tweezers on the gauze, and pour some disinfectant liquid over them, and onto the gauze;
6. I go back and wash my hands again, and wash the fistula, drying both with paper towels, and then get into my chair.

Cannulation

Cannulation follows with taking off the scabs from the fistula access points, then putting the needles into my arm, and securing them in place with the tape. When that is done, it is time to connect the dialysis machine to my arm via the needles.

I ensure that both needles are clamped, before then clamping the arterial line, taking it off the machine and connecting it to my needle, followed by the same for the venous line. Then it is time to ensure that the machine is set with the right amount of fluid to come off, in the right time. Then, when I am sure that all is set , I start the machine.

Medication and records

As a self-care patient, I have the responsibilty to put in the medication that is needed while I am receiving the treatment. Therefore, I have the anti-coagulation medication ready to put in when alerted to do so by the machine, just after starting the treatment. Later on in the session, there may be Aranesp, Venofer, or Zemplar as required. After putting any medication in, I always record that I have done so, and when, in my notebook. I also enter an hourly record of vital stats including: time; blood pressure; heart rate; blood flow rate; arterial pressure; venous pressure; UF rate; UF volume; and whether the machine is in HDF or HD mode. At the end of dialysis, the nurses photocopy the relevant page and put that in my notes. Historically, all of these vital stats would have been recorded by the machine, but since the cyber attack on the HSE, the dialysis machines have not been connected to the internet, so nothing is recorded that way. My notebook is my way of recording it all.

Responsibility and control

It is a simple thing, but taking some repsonsibility for my own dialysis has given me some control back on how the kidney failure is looked after. Before I started do this, I was quite an angry patient. I was very frustrated with some of the nursing staff. But now, I am much calmer, and I look forward to coming into my dialysis sessions as I have things to do.

It is not just in the dialysis unit that I have some control: I also get myself into the unit by using public transport. The sheer exhilaration of walking up from the station to the unit has really helped my mood. Of course, I know that not every dialysis patient is fortunate to be able to travel in this way, but maybe they could have a think about it.

Taking responsibility for my own care has turned the dialysis session from something that used to be a chore into something I enjoy.

Self-care or shared care?

I understand that total self-care is not for everyone. But shared care can be. I urge all dialysis patients that are fit and able to do some of the preparation to do that. Maybe it is simply weighing themselves when they arrive; maybe it is preparing the trolley before cannulation; maybe it is setting the amount of fluid to take off on the machine; maybe it is starting the blood pressure pump. Whatever part of the process that individual dialysis patients can take responsibility for, will give them some control over the whole process. I know from my experience that that can only do good. If you are a dialysis patient, why not talk to you dialysis nurse about having a go at some of this yourself?

We all have grandparents. Each and every single one of us has grandparents. Some of us are fortunate to have known all four of them. I know that many have not had that fortune, but I did meet all of my grandparents. I even have some items that I was gifted by them.

This afternoon when I was tidying in the house, I found a Parker pen that I thought I had lost. It was the pen that I used when I was at Ballymena Academy. I know that I was given it by my two paternal grandparents. That must have been for my eleventh birthday — the one before I went to the grammar school. It had to have been for that birthday in early May 1989, because by the end of June my paternal grandfather, Hugh Campbell had died. He was the first of my grandparents to die.

Andrew and I have done some research to find out more about this particular pen. It turns out that it is a Parker 25 Mark III. And we know from the date letters on the cap, it was manufactured in the first quarter of 1985.

The other item I have in my possession from my paternal grandmother, Mary Campbell (née Carchrie) is a Red Letter edition of the King James Bible printed by Cambridge University Press. It is bound in black French Morroco leather, and is the Compact C.R. India paper edition, with bold-figure references. As a presentation edition, it has a note in the front saying that it was

Presented to Michael by Gran’ma with love on Confirmation 1-12-91.

This Bible is the only item that I have that has my Gran’ma’s handwriting in it.

When my paternal grandmother died in 1994, I inherited a painting of a middle-eastern woman that my grandmother had painted. It used to hang in the dining room at my grandparents’ flat in Lisburn, Co. Antrim, but now it is with us. I see it every single day, and it makes me give thanks for my grandparents and their lives. It’s just a simple picture but it is rich in colours of reds, golds, and greens, and I love it.

• 

• 

• 

I burst into tears after showing each of these to Andrew. They are the only things that I can connect to my paternal grandparents other than the Campbell part of my surname. It is sometimes quite hard to believe that they both died whilst I was still at school. They were both 84 years of age when they died, albeit five years apart. That means that I am just over half way to their age now.

My usual fountain pens at the moment are my Lamy Safaris and my Lamy Vistas. I suspect, however, that they will be supplemented on occasion by this longlost friend the Parker 25. The memories of Hugh and Mary Campbell will live on for a while longer.