WTF!

OK. We know, at the age of 69, I am pursuing a project I lit the touchpaper on over 30 years ago. A project that would manifest one day as “Tides of Entropy, the website.

But look at the feature image on this page.

I discovered it by typing “hand written text” into Excire Fotos, a really expensive image collating software application that utilises AI to aid in photo recognition and sorting.

And, while it threw up a batch of hand written pages relating to Chisels and the Anglo-Romano villa I was currently writing about for the website, it also threw up the ‘unreadable’ image of hand writing now heading this page.

So I asked a different AI to decipher the writing … and it gave me this!

Here is a transcription of the handwritten note. The author appears to be journaling about their experience and emotions while in the hospital.

[Top edge, partially cut off] …have moved to EASTON WARD.

Sunday

FAMILY Children visiting today – Good Lord P.M.

Jackie and Robin visit. Oliver does not come. Being so close to losing life is such a cruel thing. Just seeing the light in Sophie’s eyes seems to remind me just how important it is to be there for her now and as she reaches womanhood.

Olivers problems are no different than the ones I and my own friends experienced at a similar age.

Lying in a hospital bed unable to help him is agony.

Everyone else around me are receiving daily visits from their family.

Sunday

Did not want to get out of bed. Did not move till 1 PM. Frightened of dying.

Spoke to a doctor, he said if anything ‘developed’, the team would ‘just deal with it’. A nurse said ‘usually, there are signs’ in advance –

I accept situation.

I discover other letters / pages

This looks like a deeply personal journal entry documenting a very stressful medical experience.

Here is the transcription of the handwritten letter:

(2) Wed Evening

I am ok till about 10.45. I tuck under the sheets – but on tenter hooks.

Will the treatment loosen and shift the clots? Will they travel to my lungs, my heart, my brain?

I look at the ticking clock – the second hand relentlessly and stiffly pushing each second before it.

Time. Life.

I settle – but in a rolling up style manner keep the legs low. Keep my vitals high. Keep the clots the 3 feet away.

Somewhere, a loud alarm goes off – semi conscious – I think it has something to do with me. I am awake – wide awake – heart pounding. – but its OK. I take a tranquiliser (1st one all day! – and the last for 3 – 4 days).

An incredibly stupid thing to write but I wonder if I will still be alive in the morning. It is just a thought – any way.