May is the month of expectation, the month of wishes, the month of hope*

And so May 2026 ends. For me, it’s been a month of change, memories, challenge, opportunity and celebration. Jane and I have enjoyed celebrating five different birthdays across the whole of the month. It was also the first anniversary of my mother’s death last year. My mum was 91 when she died. The folk who cared for her in those last few months made sure she had a good death.  Her passing made me realise how fast time flies and how important it is to make every day count. We have but one life, it’s important to live it.

However, sometimes the plans we have don’t always come to fruition. I have long wanted to climb Mount Everest. My heart still has this as an ambition, but my head tells me I’m now probably too old to try. It’s an itch that won’t go away. We travelled to Nepal in 2023, an extension of our Golden Triangle tour of India. Knowing we were so close to Mount Everest, we took an airplane flight up to, and around, Everest. It was a fantastic trip and I’m glad I got to see it up close.

It may not just be my age that makes me feel it’s unlikely I will get to climb Everest. This May saw the largest number of folk climbing up the mountain ever. A couple of weeks ago now there was one day where 274 people were recorded climbing Everest at the same time. There was literally a queue to get to the top. I think at £12,000 a go I would be really cheesed off to stand there in such a queue!

These days my ambitions are a little more modest. I write this blog from our wonderful narrowboat Bluebell. We are currently cruising the Lancaster canal, traveling from one end to the other and back again. At one time due to the fact that there are no locks to worry about, the journey from Preston to Kendal could take as little as 10 hours. In its heyday, the canal was used to transport coal from Lancashire, and limestone from Cumbria earning itself the nickname of the ‘black and white’ canal.

We have planned to take up to 10 days to do the same journey. This is day five, and so far, so good. The weather has been kind and Bluebell has behaved herself, and there has been no problems. Indeed, my recent episode of sciatica appears to have resolved itself, and I’m now largely pain free. And finally, the rather large and very colourful haematoma on my left arm is beginning to fade.

The latter was a result of my latest blood donation. For some reason, the folk at the blood donor centres seem unable to find a vein in my right arm, so the left arm gets used every time. The problem is that whilst they can find a vein to use, it apparently ‘jiggles’ making it more difficult to get the needle in. When this happens, as it did last week, I get a rather spectacular bruise. 

It is no fault of the donor carer folk. They are highly skilled practitioners, in whom I have every confidence. The NHS Blood and Transplant (NHSBT) service collects over 1.6 million donations of blood and blood products in centres across England every year. No, we have collectively come to the conclusion it’s my ageing body that is the problem. However, that said, in my local area, the oldest donor is now 81 years old, so there is hope for me yet!

Giving blood has always been a great experience for me. The folk that care for me all through the donation process are absolutely person-centred people. Unlike our canal journey which is slowness personified, I sense that they are up against the clock to get donors seen, blood collected and stored. However, you wouldn’t know it. The NHSBT folk always make me feel as if I’m the sole focus of their attention. Always calm, and always professional. Every one of them has, of course, received formal training and are appropriately supervised, but it’s their passion for people that you really notice. As in many areas of health and social care being able to be there and with people is what really makes the difference.

 

*Thank you Emily Bronte