Many moons ago my neurologist sent me for a MRI because she was worried about my balance, or should I say imbalance?  Alessandra frequently tells that I engage in the Ministry of Funny Walks.  The result of the MRI suggested that I might have MS.  The neurologist put me on a week’s course of cortisone treatment.

Day 1 at the Milpark Hospital.  Needle inserted.  Drip added.  Three hours later, though goodness knows why so long, the drip is ended but the needle stays pending the next day.

I can’t sleep that night.  Up to my office (at home) at midnight.  Three hours later I go back to bed.  On the bed are two bears.  Mine is lying flat with its back to Alessandra and facing me.  Her bear has its back on the headboard.  I lie down to go to sleep.  I look at my bear.  It’s breathing with its eyes rolling and stomach gently heaving.  I look away.  I look back.  The bear is still breathing.  I look away.  I look back.  The bear is still breathing.

Oh dear.  I decide to look at Alessandra’s bear and guess what?  It puts its tongue out at me!  What on earth is going on?  As soon as I reach the hospital on Day 2 I check the side effects.  Death is a very small possibility but hallucinations are common.  Imagine that I had the bears on my mind and I was driving.  What then?

After various fits and starts last year my neurologist confirmed that in her opinion I have Multiple Sclerosis (MS). The generic description is demyelination and there is no doubt that my brain has lost a lot of its protective sheath.

Now the thing is that I’ve probably had MS for upwards of 40 years, from an age when such a diagnosis is more common. My balance has never been good. I’m often described as a member of the Ministry of Funny Walks.

My sense of rhythm might do credit to a one-legged giraffe. I can be irritable and insecure. I suffer from frequent bouts of fatigue.

What goes through my mind is whether these are genuine symptoms of MS or its consequences?

More tests via a perhaps overdue lumbar puncture. Meanwhile, little or no fatigue but plenty of mental discombobulation.

Possibly my favourite emporium in Johannesburg is Frankli Wild which is located in Frances Street, Norwood.  The owner and creative genius is Kevin Friedman.  He has the self-made privilege of free expression.  There is no logic to the store which is a large part of its charm.  You really have no idea what inspiration you are going to be surprised by when you come through the glass entrance door.

Imagine eccentric jewellery.  Take a look at the website but be careful!  It’s easy to go astray.  Look for the models.  However, jewellery is only one aspect of the store’s contents.  When I went there recently I was greeted by an Easter bunny of some substance and to go along with that various accoutrements which would have delighted anyone keen to build an Easter collection.  The store is not to be missed.

At one time we owned five dogs.  These included an adorable black mutt which we rescued from the beach near my wife’s house which is located miles from anywhere.  She was smitten by ticks and ill-fed.  We brought her back from the coast but she did not much care for the thunder and lightning which typifies the Highveld.  Other than Heksie, as she was called, we had adopted two Yorkies of about four years old, one of which was completely manic and so was identified by our vet as clearly my pet.

Now, about seven years later, we are reduced to one dog, being my Yorkie.  She is now absolutely ‘Queen Bee’ and is allowed to do pretty much what she likes.  One thing she particularly adores is to roll over on her back so that her tummy can be tickled.  That’s fine but what is less fine is the fact that she has taken over my pillow space where I should be locating my head and neck to sleep as comfortably as possible.  Yes, there is a basket (well actually a cushion with blankets) which lies next to the bed.  Yes, Jessie will occasionally condescend to spend a few minutes sleeping on that cushion.  However, it will not be long before a bark is heard at no matter what unearthly time of the night when she is demanding to be picked up, put on the bed and left to her own devices to choose the exact spot where she is going to disturb me as much as possible.

What better example can there be than ‘spare the basket, spoil the dog’?  And the consequence is that my biokineticist is threatening to refuse to attend to my distressed back, shoulders and neck.  I have tried speaking to Jessie about this but she tends only to want to communicate with me when she is offered some of my bran and raisin muffin.

Extracting from the Ancient Mariner may not seem entirely appropriate when the water concerned is that which we are privileged to drink.  However, it’s as well to remember that our supply of water to drink, water to feed our crops, water to keep our gardens fresh, water for animals in the field or in the bush should not be taken for granted.

We are so lucky in First World Countries (although I wonder whether that’s a fair description of South Africa: maybe first world features but certainly a third world government).  Occasionally we find ourselves reminded of our privileges, especially when those privileges are denied us even if only for a short while.  So here in South Africa and in so many other places in the world we have suffered the consequences of El Nino with resultant widespread drought.

And yet the world has suffered remarkable levels of flooding which the experts tell us will continue to get a lot worse.  It’s difficult to know what conclusion to draw, leaving aside any obvious link with global warming.  There seems to be no consistency but it must be right to take safety measures against the impact of climate change.  We need to be prepared for a lot more flooding and we need to be prepared for far longer droughts.  Water, water will not be everywhere to drink.

The thing about possibly ‘smart cookies’ is that so frequently, if not normally, they are not so smart as they think they are.

Just the other day I happened to be watching an old Michael Parkinson interview with the actor, David Niven. Parkinson said ‘I believe you met Churchill more than once?’

‘Yes…..and I asked him if he thought America would enter the (Second World) War?

His reply was positive based on something cataclysmic happening. Then came Pearl Harbor and then in came America.’

When Niven met Churchill again, he asked why he had been so sure that the cataclysmic event would occur. To which Churchill replied ‘I read history’.

Most likely the only history of which Kim Jong-un is aware is that learned from his father. It seems most unlikely that he has a rounded view of potential consequences. Most relevant may be “Carthago delenda est”. The combination of a determined Trump and a disillusioned Xi Jinping may bring about just that destruction of North Korea before their leader gets missile technology under control.

The sooner, the better!

(By the way, I have just picked up this quote from Niccolo Machiavelli: ‘ the first method of estimating the intelligence of a leader is to look at the men around him’

Can the ten plagues, in particular the tenth plague, provide the key to protecting the terrified civilians in Mosul?

Here is a simplified text from Exodus, Chapter xii: Moses to the Children of Israel:

‘Slaughter a lamb, take a bunch of hyssop, dip it into the blood, spread the blood on the lintels of your doors.

Do not leave your homes till the morning. Overnight the angel of death will pass over (hence, Passover) and when he sees your signs he will pass by en route to bringing death to the Egyptians.

Thus will Pharaoh finally release us from the yoke of Egyptian bondage.’

And so, can the Children of Mosul be protected from the onslaught of both friend (not deliberate) and I.S. (deliberate)?”

I am not a fan of Brexit. I would not have voted to leave the EU. There is a contradiction here since I’ve never believed in the marriage of peoples who fundamentally don’t much like each other and have not that much in common.

The  U.K. should never have joined. The Norwegian route would have made more sense. Having been allowed into the Club, exiting was bound to come with a curse. After all, who wants to leave a Club that will have me?

To my mind, the curse is obvious. His name is Jean-Claude Juncker. There has never been the slightest sign of his being a pragmatic negotiator. Rather, he appears to have all the characteristics of a bureaucrat.

It is the bureaucracy of the EU which will lead to its eventual downfall. Before that day comes to pass there will be a lot of uncertainty and pain for the UK. Is it too late to stop the exit and turn everyone’s mind to renegotiating the EU structure? No doubt sidelining Mr Juncker.

Most of us know about and may indeed have experienced ‘road rage’.  Personally I think it has little to do with the particular moment but rather more about something that is going on in the angry person’s life.  However, not many of you will have come across my concept of ‘bridge rage’.  First you have to be a bridge player, second you may need to be addicted or nearly so, and thirdly you are probably an impatient partner.  So what is going on with your life (my life) which makes us lose our cool at the bridge table?

No doubt your/my partner has made a stupid bid or has not followed a signal or has failed to make a cold slam.  The more one is addicted, the more likely it is that one will lose one’s cool at some point or other.

So maybe it is much better to be addicted to Cadbury’s Flake which is what I am.  We have a wine cupboard in which a store of Flake is kept.  There is no doubt that they taste better when they are kept in a cooler spot.  If you are not already doing so, may I recommend you to follow my guidelines.  I am, after all, an addicted expert on Flake.  But what is it about Flake that has caused me to be addicted?  I think the Cadbury line is ‘Only the crumbliest flakiest chocolate tastes like chocolate has never tasted before’.  But the real point is to go online and view the advertisements!

It’s tricky writing about scientology because we know that the church can be aggressive in defending its reputation.  So let me not waste any time criticising this extraordinary institution.

From personal knowledge I know that scientology’s message carries great weight among its followers.  So it may be more interesting and less sensitive to try to assess what it is that the followers find so appealing.

Scientology has managed to establish itself as a charitable organiser (a ‘church’).  But at no time have I been exposed to what is generally regarded as a religious diagnostic: God, Jesus, Moses, Allah, Buddha, Hindu Gods and the like.

So the religious aspect may be more appropriately defined as ‘way of life’ which strikes home in terms of the Latin word ‘religio’ and what the organisation expects from its followers.  The trouble is that this association is linked with money: lots of it or at least disproportionate amounts of money.

If you find yourself attracted to the basic scientology concept, you may readily get into its ‘audit’ clutches.  Each stage of learning more about the system towards the ultimate objective of ‘going clear’ will cost you money and you will soon be parted from lots of, perhaps most of, your assets.  It’s hardly surprising that the church is wealthy and so readily able to defend itself against its critics.  I think it might be wiser to stay clear rather than aiming to ‘go clear’.