Notes Of An Uninteresting Event

One of my first jobs was working as a porter in the Cork Regional Hospital, helped by my mum, who worked on the switchboard, or “Switch,” and knew the head porter at the time. I remember starting during weekends in November or December 1999 whilst I attended college on the weekdays, but revenue records show that I officially started on the 2nd of February, 2000. Anyway, with zero training, I would ‘special’ people primarily in the GF unit (a ward for those experiencing brain injuries) or other wards of the hospital, which involved staying with patients all night so they wouldn’t move from their beds, etc. Oftentimes, it involved restraining them, and being 18 at the time, I had no idea what I was doing and regularly relied on the trained nursing staff on the ward. One person I sat with from 8 PM to 8 AM was Danny Walsh, who had been in a car crash in Cork back in 1999 when he was 16. He suffered severe head injuries, from which he has not recovered, and for those who are from Cork, today you’d see him around the city. I eventually transferred to work in the Accident and Emergency Department on the 9:30 PM to 2:30 AM shift on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays before I finished in the hospital. It was an experience I will always remember for both good and bad reasons (e.g., being present in Resus, seeing seriously injured people, and dead bodies at a young age).

When I was visiting a friend in the hospital recently, I came across one of the trolleys from the A&E department. It used to be my job to push, direct, and manhandle these trolleys with patients of all shapes and sizes, and clean them every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday when I worked there. I remember being able to get patients quickly to the X-ray department, if we were super busy, by almost using the trolley as a scooter (one foot pushing while my other foot was standing on the frame). There’s a foot lever on each wheel to lock the two front or back wheels in place, so I’d lock the wheels at the front so I could drift into and out of corners. They were heavy, so the pop-up handles were handy when a patient was on board. All that weight was in the base, so it lowered the center of gravity, and because they were narrow, there was no risk of toppling over. Seeing that trolley reminded me of how fun it was working there, the people I met, and with the department being un-recognisable today after undergoing renovations over the past 25 years, it was nice to reminisce.

Last week, a work trip took me to San Francisco, and for the first time, I experienced the 11 hour flight in business class. Spoiler, it was underwhelming to say the least. While in California, I worked, enjoyed the sun on my day off, got to try an ‘In-N-Out’ burger, and walked around our head office in stunned silence.

On the evening I’d flown in I got a burger from the 75-year-old Californian fast-food chain, In-N-Out Burger, that a colleague of mine had hyped up so much before boarding our flight from DUB to SFO, meant that I was expecting great things. I sampled the regular burger with fries from their eatery on Newhall Drive in San Jose. The burger was okay, and only because we’re so spoiled for great food, great burgers here in Cork. Instead, it reminded me of those burgers you’d get from a van at a GAA match or gig that just hits because you’ve drunk alcohol and need to line your stomach. The establishment itself, on the other hand, was proper Americana, with young people in paper hats and white polo shirts making hundreds of meals and shouting out completed orders over a tannoy to the awaiting public, ‘Order 95 please!’. It was a good experience, but I’d choose Bunsen, MK Burger, or Dacent Munch over the Californian chain.

San Francisco, on the Saturday was lovely and the beautiful California sun was very welcome on my very pale (factor 50 covered) Irish skin. The harbour, the Bay Bridge, the city skyline, the streets, the hills, Chinatown, and the Apple Store Union Square were all a treat. The famous fog had rolled in on Saturday morning that I took the Caltrain from San Jose, obscuring the view of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge, making me miss a photo opportunity. I was not dismayed though because the walk through Chinatown with its vibrant colours and people was a feast for my iPhone’s camera. I headed through the Stockton Street Tunnel to the Apple Store, where I got to experience the architectural marvel with its 12.8-meter sliding glass doors that opened the entire store to Union Square, and there were a few Vision Pros on display too, my first time seeing them.

On the last day of my trip, a group of us went to the Apple Visitor Center in Cupertino to buy some merchandise. I went up to the viewing platform to see if I could catch a glimpse of the spaceship among the trees off North Tantau Avenue. It was well hidden, so I needed to take a close look. Our group was escorted by our hosts through the reception center into the lush gardens with the ring building at its center. I spent the 90 minutes we were allotted slowly circumnavigating along the outside walkway, and watching the giant sliding doors closing the cafe to the outside. I then went through to the center area to walk on the thick grass that felt like I was sinking into it, and toward a rainbow in the middle. It was truly an experience I will remember.

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Listening to the Fontaines D.C. song “A Hero’s Death” the other day, and this line from the lyrics, “Tell your mother that you love her,” made me reflect on how infrequently, or even how rarely, I would say “I love you” to my mum. In that moment, while sitting at work, I couldn’t understand why I had not ended every call or visit over the years with those three words. That has been one of a million things on my mind after my mum had her first treatment last week, with two more sessions in the next few weeks, followed by surgery in the summer.

I have been calling her more frequently to see how she is feeling, visiting her at home, and now every time I make sure when I leave or hang up the phone, that I say “I love you” because I want her to know how much I do.

Tell your mother that you love her ❤️

There has not been a lot of movement in our surrogacy journey in the last six months. Although, since early March, we now have embryos and it was great to feel we were making progress. But it was short lived after we received the final count following the PGS or genetic testing we had done on them. My husband and I have needed to console each other, and on top of this, we have yet to find a surrogate to support us. Things feel like they are going nowhere, and it’s tiresome to stay positive whilst simultaneously trying to will the universe into giving us a break. I just wish the wind would pick up soon and take us away from this place.

My go-to confectioneries are a purple Snack, a package of BBQ Beef Hula Hoops, and a bottle of Tanora. I’d happily buy all if I’m passing a shop or purposefully pop to get them if the universe is throwing a few too many lemons my way. They have been my second, third, and fourth place comfort food, behind toast, since I was a teenager. From nibbling off the chocolate along the edge of a Snack, to popping a Hula Hoop on each finger or trying to chug a bottle of Tanora, only for it to come out my nose.

I have to say, I do love them and need the comfort more lately.

Mum ❤️

Last December marked the tenth year that I began posting on VSCO, a photo and video sharing website. It’s something I am extremely proud of and flicking through the six hundred plus photos I’ve posted I love seeing my progression as a photographer over the years. From getting a Hanimex 35KAF point and shoot camera before a trip to Boston with my grandparents in 1992, to buying a Leica M6 rangefinder recently as my film camera and using my iPhone everyday to take photos, I cannot wait to see what images I make in the years to come.

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Lately, I’ve enjoyed brewing filter coffee with a Hario V60 using beans from Imbibe, a roaster from Dublin that I love. The fruity and chocolaty tones are just wonderful in the morning, whether made at home or in the office. My go-to for years though had been an oat milk flat white from either my favorite coffee place Filter or from my Sage Bambino Plus espresso machine, a purchase made during lockdown. My journey with coffee, if you want to call it that, didn’t begin until my late twenties when I would drink caffè mochas, the chocolate helping mask the bitter and burnt taste, from places like Gloria Jeans, Insomnia, and Cork Coffee Roasters. As many coffee shops opened in Cork, and the various roasters popping up too over the years, there is an amazing coffee culture happening. The small coffee shops, local roasters, stalls at farmers markets, and horse boxes at the side of the road or at the beach are all at such a high quality and have enabled me to try so many different roasts. At least these days, there’s so much choice even my dad, who I will always remember cracking the paper seal on a fresh jar of Maxwell House on mornings before school to make his morning cup, has advanced to high-quality freshly ground filtered coffee.

I have not been taking photos much lately, partly due to the kids, the house, and the winter weather. Spending the darker evenings indoors in front of the fire with a Netflix show in the background, I came across the Voigtlander Nokton Classic MC 40mm f/1.4 lens for sale on MPB. I had been considering a change from the 35mm 7artisans f2 lens that I have on my M6, thinking I might want a 28mm lens because I watch a lot of street photographers on YouTube. However, I found that I prefer a tighter frame-line. Many of my shots taken on my iPhone use the 48mm equivalent lens, so I’m going to try the Voigtlander as it’s much more compact than the 7artisans lens. The weather is getting brighter as we head into spring and I’ll see how the images turn out when I get to try it.

We have an egg donor!

Back in November, a wonderful woman reached out through our agency after hearing about our bad luck in finding a donor. She expressed her desire to help. It had been an arduous journey over the past year since we started in January 2023. We had three failed attempts to secure a donor and had to say goodbye to our surrogate back in September. It was wonderful to hear that someone wanted to assist us in moving forward. After signing the legal contracts, following her medical clearance and genetic tests, our clinic informed us that she was ready to begin the hormone injections right away (this was last week). This meant she would be able to donate in about 10 days!

We had gone from months of nothing but bad news to this, along with getting a sale agreed on our house. So, we are elated. I’ve put my pragmatic hat back on until I have the keys to the house and a baby in front of me. ^^

We, my husband and I, live in a small mid terrace house in the centre of a city and it’s been great place for various reasons - no need to own a car, great amenities, entertainment, etc. Though with our future additions coming along (I’ve heard they come with a swathe of add-on’s from buggies to bed’s and toys to nappies) we knew at some stage the need to move to a bigger place. Flicking through Daft and MyHome was a nightly ritual, and whenever we would pop out to see my parents on the weekends, I’d retrieve the Irish Examiner Property paper from the recycling bin to try and find our future family home. As an outline plan we told each other we would have the first kid, then the second kid, still living in our teeny tiny city centre home and after everything had settled we would buy a bigger house. We save a high portion of our income so our ‘baby, baby, house’ approach was very practical in terms of being able to afford a deposit in the intervening years of our kids being born.

Last winter, as our journey to start a family trudged along and during an evening of us sending each other WhatsApp messages with links to houses for sale in West Cork as we watched Netflix, we found one. Our search criteria was determined by himself having always wanted a garden because our current one didn’t have one and my love West Cork, specifically around Clonakility. The house ticked all of those boxes and very much piqued both our interests. We had developed a pragmatic outlook on everything since our surrogacy journey had fumbled a bit so didn’t think we would buy it and organised to drive down to take a look anyways.

‘Fuck!’ I kept saying to myself as we walked around the area where the house was located and he kept coy but I could tell her liked it too. A modern house, built in early 2000’s, unfinished inside, set on a good bit of land, and adjacent to a river. Oh, and it’s 10 minutes from Clonakility and all the beaches we love. I rang the auctioneers to organise a viewing and the receptionist said, ‘Oh Frank’s on leave this week, and viewings will begin next week. I’ll get him to give you a call, whats your details?’ A viewing appointment was booked in for the following Friday at 10AM.

All the way home in the car I kept saying ‘Fuck, fuck, bollix!’ and hoped we would absolutely hate it after our viewing but we didn’t. We only fell in love with it more which they say never to do. I rang our current mortgage provider in earnest to find out if we could get a second mortgage and we could. We put in an offer and after a tense bidding process, we were accepted at just over the asking price. We’re now at the stage between ‘Sale Agreed’ and ‘Sold’ that could take weeks or months but we’re both committed to moving our lives to West Cork. I guess it’s now going to be ‘house, baby, baby’ or ‘house, baby, nothing for ages and then baby’ because we’ve got so much to do! ^^

I feel like there’s been a disturbance in my procrastination force lately, or maybe it’s been happening over the last few years and I’m only paying close attention to it now. Starting a family seems to have a way of focusing the mind to achieve previously unachievable goals in a very short period of time, well for me. For instance, today I applied for a job and I didn’t overthink it! Dusting off a resumé from the last job I applied for in 2015 to help craft an up to date version, tailored to the role I was interested in. A chat with a colleague from the team I’d be applying for and boom, I applied online via the job advertisement. No sweat.

Admittedly, I have been noticing a subtle change over the last few years but it’s when we began our surrogacy journey that I’ve applied myself to drive that whole endeavour forward, and now noticing that I’m not as perturbed with buying a new house, getting a mortgage or applying for a new job. It’s apt that I titled this post as ‘New Manley’ because I’ll be doing that officially too, soon although that decision did take a long time in contrast to the ‘do not overthink’ above relatively quick decisions. Let’s hope I get an interview. (End)