Refugees in the 1900s or 2010s?

The last two months have been challenging but I think I'm finally emerging from the infections because, this morning, I noticed how beautiful the garden looks in the morning sunshine. 

But enough of pneumonia. I'm tired of talking about it. I'd far rather talk about some research that I'm doing at the moment. I'm trying to find out how my Grandma and her siblings might have travelled from Latvia to London in the early 1900s because they never spoke about it and we never asked. The pogroms were getting frighteningly close. Jewish people were forbidden to work in many trades. My Grandma and family were starving. The only time they mentioned this was to say that the family in the 'Fiddler on the Roof' film were rich in comparison.

The more I read about the possible journey that brought them here to England, the more I'm struck by the similarity between their experience and today's refugees' experiences. There's mention of corrupt agents in the big towns encouraging people to go to England and America but not providing safe travel. Refugees were packed onto ships that in some cases were designed for cattle and indeed, had the cattle on the upper levels. Human excrement was reported to be pouring down the sides of ships as they docked. Many people came here expecting to pick up pre-paid tickets to travel on to America only to find that they had been ripped off and no tickets existed. It all sounds so familiar.

I intend to find out more about that journey that Grandma never spoke about, but for now I just want to say that had England turned those ships away, then my family and the family of most of my friends would never have been. For me that is a sobering thought.

I hope you all had a lovely Purim/will have a great Easter... and the sun is still shining!

Hospital and Pneumonia

So I haven't returned with flowers in my hair. Neither do I have a spring in my step. Last weekend I landed up in hospital with pneumonia and acute sinusitis. I was sent home with strong antibiotics, liquid morphine and strict instructions to do absolutely nothing for at least two weeks.

My temperature had shot up. I had such a severe pain in my head that I could neither open my eyes nor speak. A taxi took me to the hospital walk-in clinic. I arrived with the clothes I stood up in. Within half an hour I had been admitted to A&E, had a cannula in my arm with saline drip, antibiotics and liquid painkillers rushing into my blood stream. From there I was moved to an acute infections ward.

Everything they say about Leicester's Royal Infirmary is true. There are too many patients and too few members of staff but the treatment I received was rapid and precise and that's all you need in circumstances like that. That no one had time to get me a nightie or a pillow for many hours is not important.

The meds have kicked in enough now for me to be able to focus my eyes on this screen, at least for a little while at a time. As for doing nothing for two weeks, yes, I know it sounds attractive... if only I didn't feel so ill.