Life's Little Dramas Part 27

Once again I have been remiss in keeping my blog up to date so I must apologise to all those that take the time to dip in and out of my musings (no idea why you are interested but I am grateful!).

Firstly, the threat of the return of Melony has abated. The scan showed that there was no new growth so we have reverted to the 12 month check up. Funniest part of that trip was the lady doing the scan looked puzzled and then, hesitantly, mentioned that she could not find one of my wife's ovaries! It's nice to see how joined up the records are at the NHS. It was not even a different hospital...or department! She had the ovary removed about 100ft from where the scan was performed. Ho hum!

Secondly, there have been more dramas (I should write a book!) and, due to a sudden drop in blood pressure, she collapsed a few weeks back. Just to make a good job of things, she managed to smack her face into the bedside table that knocked her unconscious and, as a consequence, she broke her arm. Not for my good lady a simple break though!! She has what is termed a commuted fracture and the bone is in three parts - and not in line. This will result in her arm being slightly shorter when it finally heals - which could well be after Christmas.

I think I should start past life regression so I can find out exactly who it was that I wronged so badly :)

I will endeavour to update more frequently and will have to punt in some of my more lighthearted musings over the next few months - don't want to depress you all!

Keep Loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 26

Well, just when you think life has chucked everything it can at you, it chucks even more shit at you.
Just as we were settling down to getting over the last 12 months, thoe suspicion is that melony (see earlier posts) may have returned. We have a date for a new scan so we can only wait now. On top of that, father in law has had a heart attack and we are having to temporarily move in with them to look after them. Can there be any more crap? I must have really pissed someone off in a previius life.

Life's Little Dramas Part 25

Just when I thought I had seen, heard and read all the stupidest Government Department rulings / decisions, I am yet again stunned, amazed and appalled in equal measures.

Two weeks ago, my wife went to the hospital where she was treated for her broken back to have an assessment on how things were going. The Doctor said he was pleased with how the break was healing and that all was progressing well. Reasonably enough (in my opinion), she asked how long she would have to put up with the pain and how long it would be before she could walk more than the length of our road so she could, once again, take the dog for a walk. The Doctor calmly informed her that this was as good as it was going to get! To say that knocked her for six is an understatement. Basically, she withdrew again and the depression set in - understandable I think.

Two weeks on and she is gathering herself again and taking an interest in the possibility of alternative treatments - acupuncture, reflexology etc. - that might help alleviate the problems. Then, the DWP (Department for Work and Pensions) intervened. At this point it is worth pointing out that the Government has already withdrawn her Employment Support Allowance (formally Disability Living Allowance) as she had been claiming for 365 days. This letter requested that she attended a medical to assess her ability to work. Not the worst thing I know but, and it is a big but, the assessment is in a town some 17 miles from our home. As some of you who have read this blog before will know, she does not currently have her driving licence so driving (were she able to get into the car)is out of the question. The letter helpfully describes the public transport route for her. This consists of:

1. Walk to the bus stop (already beyond her current range)
2. Take bus to station
3. Take train to station A
4. Change at station A for 2nd train to station B
5. Take bus from station B to nearest bus stop to medical centre
6. walk from bus stop to medical centre

This group of numb nuts robots already have details of her current medical condition so they know that she broke her back. They are also aware that she has had a partial hysterectomy to remove the lump and yet, because their automated system requires it, they are basically asking the impossible. Yes, I can take the day off and drive her there - but what if she was on her own. Yes, it is good that they see her in her current condition - but why so far away and to make her do things that are probably inadvisable for someone in her condition. This country's one size fits all policy for benefit and fitness to work is not suitable in any way, shape or form.

I am very angry!

My wife is very angry.

She is going to contact them today to have it out with them. I just hope that she gets a reasonable response as anything else may just push her backwards again.

For now, as ever, keep loving!

Life's Little Dramas Part 24

It has been some time since I posted an update on my wife's recovery so I thought I should rectify that. Progress is slow and sometimes it seems that she is going backwards but, for the most part, we are both being positive about the future.

Today started a new chapter as she attended her first acupuncture session. I am interested in these 'alternative' approaches and, as far as I am concerned, whether they have a direct physical effect or not, if there is no detrimental consequence, as long as the patient feels that it is helping, then it helps. My only issue is that I don't think I could have it done to me as I am the biggest wuss when it comes to needles - and I know these are very fine.

Anyway, the first session is over and the outcome seems positive in as much as she is not telling what a waste of time it was. Three more sessions to go and then, we are told, if it hasn't done any good, it never will! And so, the waiting game begins. Many hurdles still to cross but, baby steps as they say.

I may post briefly tomorrow on some (what I thought) amusing moments on press day at the Chelsea Flower Show (what a life I lead!!)

Keep Loving

The Likeability Gene

It has often been said of certain people that they are 'likeable'. Usually this is meant as a compliment in that, whoever they come into contact with, can't help but like them. This maybe a gene or some hormone that their bodies produce but, whatever it is, in general, they are hard to dislike.

I have now come into contact with the antithesis of this type of person. I work with a chap who is instantly dislikable. He doesn't seem to have a filter on what he says and constantly sports the sort of 'eat shit' smile that makes even the most docile of people want to smash him the face. It's not as if he restricts his condescending and trite comments to those lower than he. The only time I have seen him deferential is when he is arse licking the MD.

Basically, this man makes me want to slap him every time he talks to me. I want to find a way of belittling him in front of his peers to bring him down a peg or two. Is that wrong? Especially with my usual sign off :) I fear if I write much more I could be sued for libel. I think I should stop now.

Keep loving!

Fear of the Dark

I consider myself to be a reasonably rational person. I didn't believe I had any irrational fears (well, only one but that is for another post) and was able to rationalise most situations. Something occurred last night though that has made me re-evaluate that opinion and, having thought back over the years, I seem to have a fear of the dark!

Now, this fear is not the kind where I cannot sleep with the light off. This holds no fear for me and nor does the occasional trip down the stairs in the middle of the night for a call of nature. It has manifested itself in two distinct areas.
1. When I am out alone at night - even walking along streets that I know.
2. In the house when I hear noises or (as in last night) when I see something.

Let me say, whilst I have watched horror movies, I am no great fan and don't watch everything in that genre. Also, I don't think, even as a child, I had a problem sleeping at night. So why this has arisen is beyond me.

The cause to reassess last night was quite simple but certainly put me on edge. My wife was in bed and I had come down to deposit the dog back in the lounge rather than on our bed and to fill a glass of water. I had turned on the kitchen light and turned to enter the lounge and make sure the dog was bedded down. As I stepped out of the kitchen, the lights flickered. I know that this is not a strange occurrence but it was the first time these new low energy lights had ever done it. This unsettled me slightly but, what happened next was what really freaked me out. I started to hear music! There was nothing outside, nothing on in the house and no lights on in the neighbours houses. I know that it was probably just ringing in the ears but it certainly put the willies up me I can tell you!

So, I now fess up and say, it seems that I am well and truly scared of the dark at 45, 6ft 2in and rather overweight. I feel a bit stupid really...

Keep loving.

Out of Season Rudolph

Sunday was my birthday treat at Brands Hatch to watch the British Touring Cars. I awoke early (something I rarely do on a Sunday) and my wife packed me some sandwiches while I packed some extra clothes - the forecast was for a maximum 10 degrees C. Off I drove looking forward to a day of petrol headed bliss.
I arrived, as I do for everything in my life, early and managed to get myself an excellent vantage point. I unpacked all my kit and smugly layered up as the temperature was around freezing point at 8am yesterday. I had three layers under my coat, 2 pairs of socks, woolly hat and gloves. I looked more like I was getting ready for a protest demo rather than to be entertained.

The racing started around 10am and did not disappoint all day. However, at about 12 midday, the temperature was rising quite rapidly (unless a cloud passed overhead at which point it dropped even more rapidly) and layers were starting to come off. I finished the afternoon with sleeves rolled up and sunglasses surgically attached to my head.

As I sat in my car during the one and a half hours it took to get out of the car park, I started to feel the gentle tingle that suggested I had 'caught the sun'. With very little to do whilst sitting in the queue, I risked a glance in the mirror. At 7.30pm last night, my nose was already glowing so I knew I was in for a scarlet appendage this morning and, true to form, my face feels like I am in front of a hot oven and the thick layer of cream I applied this morning was sucked up by my grateful skin within seconds.

What makes it better is that I have now brightened up the Monday of most of the office I work in. There are very few that have managed to walk by my desk without at least a wry grin and, at worst, a belly laugh :) I always wanted to make people laugh but, in my youth, I thought it might have been from my witty repartee - not a sun burnt nose. It only took 30 minutes for the first email addressed to Rudolph to land in my inbox - laugh? Well actually I did as I think I look pretty stupid too! If you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at??

Keep loving.

Petrol, Politicians & Pensioners

As those of you from outside the UK may be aware, we are looking at a tanker driver strike here. This is not a strike over pay but one about health and safety of the drivers during, what can only be described as, their somewhat hazardous working day.

Unfortunately, some numpty politician here has sparked panic buying and, however many times he or his colleagues now talk to the media about him being wrong and there is no need for it, the damage has been done. You cannot now tell the driving public that, should the strike go ahead, there will be at least a weeks notice and that there are a number of military tanker drivers undergoing training in case they are called in to deliver fuel.

This morning, with less than 40 miles worth of diesel in the tank, I was forced in to visiting our local petrol station to enable me to continue going to work (a round trip of 130 miles a day). I was greeted at my first stop by queues onto the main road which prompted me to try another outlet. At the second there were still queues but these were by no means as bad. Whilst sitting and waiting for my turn, I noticed that, along with the obvious repmobiles and works vans, 50% of the vehicles lining up were pensioners. I also noted that, as they got to there allotted pump, nearly all these pensioners were also filling up the plastic petrol cans used for storage. Why is it that, these people who have all day to do things and, let's face it, very little distance to travel, feel the need to potentially bring this country to a standstill. They would be the first to complain that the buses were not running or that there was no food on supermarket shelves and yet, it is these very same, frankly selfish, people who will cause it with their 'wartime' mentality. Their cars have probably not used a whole tank of fuel since Christmas so why do they need it now? Is it so they can put their cars and petrol cans in their garage, lock the garage doors and then sit smugly in their homes knowing that at least they will be able to drive anywhere they like should the need arise - even if it is just to the local bingo hall.

On a purely selfish note, it might also stop me going to Brands Hatch on Sunday......but that's not the point!!

That brings my rant to an end for now but, as you can probably tell, it did make my blood boil. Now, I have to calm down and breathe :)

Keep loving

Tin Top Time

Those of you that know me will be aware that, since a very young age, I have been obsessed with Formula 1. I have followed through the dark times when death was a frequent event, I have followed it through the wacky times as teams tried ever more outlandish ideas to get ahead (6 wheels, fans at the rear etc.), I have followed it even during the recent drab, processional years and into the current resurgent period.

Those that know me will also be aware that my wife cannot stand it and refers to the sport as 'wheem, wheems' as this is the sound that she hears on the TV from whichever room she has retreated to during the Grand Prix!

Well, this Sunday, I will be betraying my open wheeled mistress and attending round 1 of the British Touring Car Championship at Brands Hatch. I had sort of followed the series for a number of years, most closely in the late 80's and early 90's but had never been all that serious about the series. That changed last year when my wife (much to her chagrin) won 2 tickets to the same event in 2011. The tickets arrived on the Saturday with the main event taking place the very next day. I managed to get someone to go with me at the last minute, the weather was kind and we had a fantastic day. Three BTCC races, 2 Ginetta Juniors (kids up to 13 years of age racing in sports cars), 2 Ginetta Cup races, 1 Porsche Super Cup race, C2 Clio Cup races and a formula Renault open wheeled race. The crowd were friendly, you could leave your seat without fear of loss and, had I paid as I have done this year, all for £25 (plus fuel).

So, I shall be packing my rucksack with sandwiches and warm clothes in preparation for a reasonably cheap day out where I can get a live fix of petrol headed fun and, with the way the Touring car drivers race, plenty of paint swapping - I shall be in heaven :)

Keep loving.

Going Bald

This morning, as I looked in the bathroom mirror, I spotted a bald patch!! Not, thankfully, upon my head but on my chin.

After I shaved, I noticed an area on my chin that looked vaguely pink. I though I had probably irritated the skin slightly but no! There is a small, round area, about the size of a pound coin, where there is no stubble. It wasn't there yesterday and I can't remember having seen it happen before.

I have never been that hairy (except my hair is very thick) with my arms hardly showing the growth and it takes me three days to get a 5 o-clock shadow but now, it seems, my chin is trying to give up on all Maybe it will spread (that will save me time in the mornings) and maybe it will go away but, I hope it makes up its mind pretty soon. I don't want a pink circle on my chin any longer than I have to!

Keep loving

The Rumour Mill

Today, a senior member of the management team left the company by the euphemistically titled 'mutual consent'. I won't go into the whys and wherefore's here as that is not what this blog is about. I would just wish him well in whatever he does.

What this post is about though, is the consequence of this upheaval. For some time, the company has been considering re-arranging the office to make the departmental arrangements more sensible. However, today, with enforced managerial changes taken place, the rumour mill has gone into overdrive! I have been approached by four different people, each telling me (in hushed and conspiratorial tones) the definitive new arrangements and that they are absolutely certain that these will happen. Unfortunately, all four have differed in some way and, if they are all to be believed, I will soon have four desks - one of which is on a different floor and one in a completely different building!

I shall now just sit back and await the next list of rearrangements and see if I can get a fifth position.

Keep loving!

Life's Little Dramas Part 23

Yesterday, I returned to the docs to hear the results of my shoulder x-rays (see earlier posts). The good news is that it definitely isn't - to use an expression we have in our house - 'a touch of the Aurthurs' or, to use more common language, arthritis. I am obviously much relieved but she couldn't tell me what the problem actually is. It might be something like a frozen shoulder (in both) or something else. In the meantime, I have some exercises - I had to look that up in a dictionary :) - and will be referred to a physiotherapist. If the physio doesn't work, I will have to have injections into the shoulder! I have never been good with injections and, when I had to have one in my heel a couple of years ago, I was lying on my front cringing and the doctor (not my usual one) said 'Don't worry, the anticipation of the pain is always worse than the actual pain' - he lied! The actual pain was far worse and, when I said words to that effect, he just replied that 'That's how we know we have hit the right spot'! Not only was he lying, he was deliberately misleading me!! So, forgive me if I am hoping that physio does the trick :)
Much relief though as I was concerned that, if arthritis was setting in now, I would have a long time to put up with it!

On a completely different subject, how many tradesmen does it take to fix a boiler? It sounds like the beginning of a particularly bad joke - and it very nearly turned into one. Two days ago, I was making my first coffee of the day prior to getting ready for work when I heard a dripping. Thinking that I hadn't turned the tap off, I checked the sink but there was no water in there and the tap was definitely not dripping. However, I could hear the noise much clearer and reached over to the cupboard above the sink that houses the boiler. Opening the door, I was met with the sight of water gently falling from the base of the unit.
I sorted a system of kitchen towels to wick the water into a bucket and decided I would need to contact the installers once I was at work. Then I went to the thermostat and turned it up to get a bit of warmth into the house, Grabbed my coffee and breakfast and sat down in the lounge to munch my cereal. After I had returned my dirty cup and bowl to the kitchen, I went to go upstairs and happened to brush the radiator - which was cold. I went back to the boiler and found it flashing an error message.
I followed the instructions, reset it and went upstairs to have my shower (not linked to the hot water system). When I came out, it was still quite chilly in the bedroom so, with some trepidation, I went back down to the boiler and, once again, it was flashing an error.
Once at work, I rang the installers and they could only visit the next day 'between 8am and 1pm' so I took the day off. At 9.30am, the van arrived and two chaps rocked into the kitchen. They stopped the leak, cleaned a few bits, ran the hot tap and pronounced the unit fixed. I saw the steam from the exhaust outside and agreed. I paid the call out fee and they went on their way. Then, to take the edge off the cold house, I turned up the thermostat and waited for the boiler to kick in - It didn't! I was straight back on the phone and, 30 minutes later, they were back. This time, they took more parts out tinkered about until they found what turned out to be the main problem - the electrode that created the spark was broken. Sharp sucking or air through teeth followed and they informed me that 'no-one keeps those in stock, you will have to get them ordered'. Their parting shot was to suggest contacting the manufacturer direct. I did this and, after answering a number of questions, the very helpful young lady asked if we had insurance. It occurred to me that we had amended our policy only last year to include this type of thing - in the words of Homer Simpson, D'oh!!
Next call was to our insurers. Apparently, Thursday is a busy day in home insurance claims as I was on hold for 22 minutes!
Once I got a real person, they went through the usual questions including was I permitted to discuss the policy with them as it was in my wife's name! It only took them asking her and her reply to allow me to do it so I can't see how that was security. But that is not the point. They agreed that they could get one of their approved engineers out that afternoon (just as well I didn't take only a half day off) and he would be with me before 4pm. I had the feeling that all that would happen would be a local tradesman would come out, look at the boiler, come to the same conclusion and go away muttering about how long it would take to order the part.
Happily I was wrong! The chap turned up in a van painted with the logo of the boiler manufacturer, had a quick look at the work that had been done on the leak and pronounced it a good job, asked what his fellow tradesmen had suggested was the problem, nodded, trotted off to his van and came back with a new part. It took him 10 minutes to fit, he tested the system and then left.

How I wish I had just contacted the insurers first! You live and learn I suppose. At least, at the end of the day, we had hot water and heat - and we could use the washing machine!

Phew! That was a long post to say very little. I think I needed to get it off my chest. Back to work now.

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 22

We have progress! After nearly three months of virtual house arrest, my wife ventured out with me at the weekend.

We took the dog for a walk at the local country park on Saturday. She lasted one circuit before having to go back to the car while I took the dog on a second turn but, as the first trip out, I think that was quite impressive. Even more impressive when she decided to come straight back out with me to do the weekly shop.

That evening, she did suffer but was also very pleased with herself. Then, on Sunday, she had her first proper foray into the kitchen and managed (with very minor assistance from me to get things off shelves) to cook up a batch of her rather scrummy homemade sausage rolls for me to take to work on Monday. Again, she did suffer in the evening but, after such a long period of inactivity, I think she should be very proud of herself.

One thing that has become clear to me through all that has happened is that you should never dismiss the small things in life. A trip out to walk the dog was just something that we did before. Now it is an event to be cherished as it could have been so very different. A batch of sausage rolls was simply a treat for Christmas and birthdays, now it is a success and a step forward.

Don't ever take things for granted. Simple things like this can be taken away from you so quickly so you must enjoy them. Celebrate life to the full. Whilst I don't advocate squandering money, remember that there are no pockets in a shroud.

Most of all though....
Keep loving

An Evening with Mother

To date, I don't think that I have mentioned my mother in any of my posts so I shall now rectify that sin.

My mother is in her 80's and still regularly ferries a group of what she describes as 'old dears' to and from the shops. She is now cutting back on her night driving and, by her own admission, has now decided that driving at 80mph on dual carriageways is somewhat beyond her abilities!

We do not have a big family but still, we have never been so tight that we visited our parents every weekend and, even though I am just about the closest of her three children in mileage terms, I haven't spent as much time with her as, perhaps, I should have. Last Saturday, however, I spent more time with my mother than I had in the last twelve months (bad son, bad son!).

It started with the annual 'what do we get parents for birthdays / Christmas discussions. You see, both my mother and my father in law have birthdays in December and, when he was alive, my father was also a Sagittarius. So we did our usual trawl around our local factory outlet and came up short. However, my wife asked me if my mother liked Pam Ayers. Absolutely loves her was my reply. And so the plan was hatched. We booked two tickets for her live show at a nearby(ish) theatre and sent off the tickets. Unfortunately, although she was thrilled to get them, as mentioned before, she has given up driving at night so asked if I would accompany her.

I agreed and suggested that, to make a special night of it, I would take her out for something to eat beforehand as well. This was really so that I would have a partially enjoyable night - not because I didn't want to spend it with my mother but rather, I didn't really relish the thought of 2 hours of Pam Ayers.

After the minor hiccough of everywhere you could book that was withing walking (shuffling) distance for my mum being fully booked, I managed to ascertain that there was a high probability of getting into a restaurant that was close by taking a table in their 'coffee bar'. This we duly did and enjoyed a very tasty and filling seaside meal.

Now there was no putting it off any longer. With the time it would take us to walk to the theatre, we had to make a move so, with the air of a condemned man, I helped her on with her coat and we started on our way. At the theatre, we discovered that we were in the third row just to the right hand side so had a marvellous view. I settled into my seat and found that I had to sit with my legs in the aisle as the legroom was so minimal. Feeling more and more gloomy, I settled down for two hours of pain.

Two and a bit hours later, we emerged into the chill North Sea coastal evening with damp eyes and aching cheeks from laughing so much. Mother was gushing about how wonderful it had been and must have thanked me for the food and show so many times, I lost count.

They always say, never judge a book by its cover, well neither should you assume that you are going to hate an entertainer until you have heard their up to date work. She was witty, ever so slightly risque and not afraid to ridicule herself. On top of that, I had such an enjoyable night out with my mother that, heaven forbid, I might just suggest something like that to her again!

Keep loving

A Curious Feeling

Tomorrow is my birthday. Before you all respond in your thousands with birthday wishes, I would like to say that I am not sure I want to be celebrating.

A curious feeling has come over me as I approach what will be the 45th anniversary of my birth. For (as far as I can remember) every prior birthday, I have looked forward to it with very nearly the same excitment as I did as soon as I was old enough to understand what it was about. Sometimes I have been disappoined, sometimes overwhelmed and others have just been another day but I have still felt that tingling anticipation associated with what may drop through the letterbox or what gourmet delight I may consume either on the day or at the most convenient weekend after.

This year, however, I find myself dreading it. I am not 100% sure why this may be. After all, those of you that have read my musings will know that we have come through a worrying time and things are looking up. I have my health (although I know thta I have to get fitter). I have no money worries and I have a job that I love. But still, there is a deep gloom that seems to envelop me whenever I think of the 'big day'.

The only thing that I can think of to explain my malais is a sudden (and I do mean sudden) realisation of my own mortality. In my head, I am still in my twenties. I have a games console that I could not afford when I was that young and still play on it when I can. I like purile humour and comedy programs. I love Blackadder. The trouble is, when I look in the mirror (or more importantly, when I see photos of me) I see a middle aged, overweight, greying old git looking back. I have more hair than many of my peers and have far less grey than many but I am still not the same on the outside as I am on the inside. I am supposed to act the age that I feel inside but the body is no longer willing.

The stupidest part of this is, it is highly likely that, once the day is over, the cards opened, then the drink is consumed over the weekend, I will feel absolutely fine again until this time next year. At least, that is what I am hoping. Either that or I am turning into just the type of miserable git that I have always hated! The irony is not lost on me.


Keep loving

Eurovision

I think it is fair to say that I am not a devotee of the Eurovision Song Contest but, I do dip my toe in whilst it is on to see how the UK is doing. After all, you never like to see your home team do badly whether you follow them or not. But this year, I am torn as to whether I should watch it for the comedy factor or boycott it completely as I have just heard who the UK entry will be:
Englebert Humperdinck!!
A 75 year old crooner!!
Apparently Paul Gamberchini has stated that it is a stroke of genius to bring on a 'geezer' (his words not mine) who could pull in the youth vote for his rendition of The Lesbian Seagull in Beavis & Butthead - The Movie.
PG is not even English! What right has he to say what is good for the UK in Eurovision - even his native land has no involvement and are probably totally mystified as to why we would even think of joining in this travesty.

I'm sure that the fabled Eurovision Parties will still continue and there will be much flag waving in the green room while the votes are cast. The one thing I would pay to see would be the confused look on Englebert's face as all the screaming carries on from the 'younger' entries.

Oh well,

Keep Loving

Leap Year?!

If you have read posts on my blog other than the 'Life's Little Dramas' series, you will know that I am prone to odd thoughts or flights of fancy. This entry falls into that category.
I am confused by the term Leap Year on a couple of levels. Firstly - and this will probably be very easy to look up - why is it called a Leap Year? What are we leaping??
Secondly, and in my opinion rather more confusingly, I have heard reference to Leap Years, Leap Days and Leap Seconds. The last two of these refer to additional units of time added to 'balance' our calendars i.e. the 29th Feb is a Leap Day that is added every 4 days (except when the Leap Year is on a century year (1900/2000 etc.) and a Leap Second is added to the end of the year at certain intervals. This then begs the question, why isn't a Leap Year, a year that is added? Like a 2011a? That would mean we would have an extra 2011 and next year would be 2012. Imagine what fun we would have if we had Leap Decades :)

Oh well, back to some semblance of sanity now I have got that off my chest!

Keep loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 21

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had to have an x-ray on both my shoulders. This happened today. The NHS actually called me in 2 minutes after my appointed time - I think with clocks being inaccurate you could even say they were spot on - and the very nice young lady made do pilates exercises to get the right shots - so many I felt more like I was on a style shoot rather than a medical appointment. After 15 minutes I was back in the waiting room and 5 minutes later, the nice young lady was back out to tell me that the shots were fine, in other words, I didn't move! Then came the line 'The images should be with your GP in a week or so'.
Now, this in itself seem innocuous - a little slow but nothing out of the ordinary - until you remember that these x-ray images are now digital. That means that they are immediately available to view on a computer.
OK, I understand that they will need to be seen by a 'specialist' rather than just my GP but, what can possibly take 7-10 days about this?? Do they not have email????

All I can say is, it was a good job my arm wasn't hanging off!

Hmmmmmm....keep loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 20

It never ceases to amaze me how the body has a natural mechanism for ignoring problems if there is something bigger going on. I mentioned one example in my last post regarding the brain only handling one major pain at a time - thus, I am guessing, giving the injured person a chance to cope - well now I have another example.

Today I went to the docs. Nothing major (I hope) but, over the last 12 months, I have been having intermittent issues with my shoulders. Pain issues that have sometimes made even rudimentary actions such as turning the wheel in the car extremely painful. Well, during the period that my wife has been ill, I know it has been there but, and this is not a suggestion that I have been manfully ignoring the pain, my brain seems to have been registering it, letting me know it hurts, then filing it away for future reference. Thinking back, it is quite surreal. I have felt the pain, I have reacted then, it seems like it has been logged away like some distant memory that occasionally peeks over the wall only to disappear as soon as you look in its general direction. The upshot is, a bunch of anti-inflammatory drugs and I have to go for an x-ray. My big concern (and remember, I am the biggest wimp going) is that it will turn out to be arthritis. Those that know me are fully aware that I am unfit. However, one thing I have always prided myself in is my strength of arm and leg. I can lift and push things far beyond my capabilities whilst never having the ability to run more than 10 seconds without running short of breath. If this insidious threat comes along, whilst not life threatening, will completely change how I live my life. I think I have had enough 'life-changeing' things happen during the last 12 months and frankly, any more can bugger off and go find someone else to play with.

Of course, this is the bleakest of outlooks. I have had enough experience recently of thinking the worst and being proved wrong - long may that continue but, even the most positive person has to reach a point when they say enough! All I want in life these days is an interesting and stimulating job (tick), a quiet home life (tick), a little time to play stupid computer games (half a tick), the odd chance to do some more theatre (tick occasionally) and good health (that's where it falls down). Is it too much to ask?

It has just occurred to me that, when I started writing this post, I was just adding some more detail to my blog and wasn't going to write much. Now it has turned into a rant that makes me sound like a selfish hypochondriac! I hope that is not the case but who am I to say? That is the joy of posting and allowing others to comment. They don't hold back. I might not like what they say but I'm sure it will make me stop and think (before I delete the worst!!).

And breathe.....

Well, back to calm self so time to sign-off.

Remember - keep loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 19

Isn't it nice when you finally get a couple of bits of good news in a row without the barrage of doom and gloom in between?
After the dramatic envelope opening just over a week ago (see part 18) we were bimbling along trying to approach 2012 with a sense of optimism. Friday was my wife's next appointment with the back doctor and we were a little apprehensive as she had been in some pain of the previous few days - this was obviously being masked by the 'discomfort' of the operation up until that point - so, as I left her awaiting the hospital transport and headed off to work, there was some tension in the air.
The tension was not improved when, having arrived at the hospital at 8.20am, she presented herself to reception as, with an appointment at 9am and the need for an x-ray beforehand, she thought it would help if she went for that early. The assumption being that they would be pleased to get someone out of the way. Oh how wrong she was. She was basically told that it was ridiculous being there that early (she was dictated to by the hospital transport), who on earth told her that she needed an x-ray first (it was in the letter she received) and there was no way that anyone would see her before 9am. Now, as she was in her going-out back brace, she was unable to sit down (this chops across her windpipe - the problem with only being 5ft 1 and a half inches tall) so, she asked if there was anywhere she could stand without being in the way. To this she received the reply NO! My wife's response?...'I'll go and play with the traffic then shall I?'

It was at this point that she phoned me at work and vented her spleen to me for 5 minutes about the stupidity of the NHS and the lack of empathy from the staff. This did not bode well for her appointment especially when she started threatening to get the next transport home! Anyway, she rang off rather abruptly and I assumed the worst. This was re-enforced at about 10am when the number that flashed on my phone as it rang was our home number. However, it seemed that, subsequent to her run in with officialdom, she was soon packed off for an x-ray and almost immediately seen by the doctor who pronounced himself satisfied with her progress. He prescribed some physiotherapy and said that she would only need to wear the contraption when in public. So, when she arrived at the front door of the hospital to find her transport waiting for her and having had a reasonably smooth journey home, she was much happier with life and suddenly things didn't look so bad.

So, onwards and upwards again and much more hope for the future. I'll be back soon (I know you can't wait!)

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 18

Well, despite thinking that most of the dramas were over for a while, there was a major squeaky bum moment over the weekend. I retrieved the post on Saturday morning and flicked through the usual weekend junk mail only to come across a letter from the hospital stamped 'Gaenocology'. Now, if you remember, we were told that we would not hear anything unless it was bad news (malignant) so you can imagine the looks on both our faces. I attempted to be stoic and asked if my wife would like me to open it - always hoping and expecting that she would decline and open it herself - and she said yes. At this point she tells me that my hands started to shake!

I slowly opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. It turns out that the surgeon had decided (presumably as there had been delays in getting the results) that it would be a good idea to confirm that it was definitely good news! At this point there were tears (of relief) and much hugging.

So, it just goes to show, you should never put off opening letters - it may actually prolong your agony and reading what is written could really improve your day.

And on that note,

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 17

Well, if the NHS and the Post Office are to be trusted, the fact that we have had no letter regarding the biopsy means that it was benign - hurrah!! I still think that it is a shitty way to treat patients and their families. To say that you will hear from them within two weeks if it is malignant and their is need for further treatment but, if it is benign, they will only write to your GP seems to me to be completely wrong. What if there is a mistake in the address, a problem at the post office or any number of human errors that might stop the letter going out? There would be people such as ourselves, celebrating the fact that, barring the healing process, the whole problem is sorted and we can get on with life who, a few days later, when the letter finally drops onto the mat, have to face the whole thing again. Is it me or is that wrong?

Well, assuming that this doesn't happen and the healing proceeds as planned, this should be one of the last blogs on 'Melony' and her removal. However, as this blog seems to have attracted quite a number of readers - far more than I expected anyway - I shall continue to use the Life's Little Dramas posts to update on the more personal matters that I encounter. For my other, more random musings, I shall post under other titles (still on this blog though). So, to those that have read and commented - thank you for all your support, to those that have read and found it interesting or useful - please carry on reading and always feel free to comment (I am quite thick skinned but all out abuse is not my forte), to those of you that think this is just a load of self-indulgent tripe - why on earth are you still reading it?

But, to all of you, please remember....

....Keep loving :)

Life's Little Dramas Part 16

Well, the last 48 hours have had a real mixture of highs and lows! Nothing major in the low department but certainly some gritted teeth moments.

The day started with an accident on the way to work causing long delays. Not, in itself, anything to cause issues as I am usually pathologically early for everything so, even with the major delay, I was at my desk before 9am. However, whilst crawling along, I saw another accident happening on the opposite carriageway. It was the strangest sensation of appearing to be in slow motion. I have no idea what caused the van to swerve, it may have been another car braking, a mechanical fault or even oil on the road but the gentle fishtailing was obviously beyond the driver’s ability to control. This gentle sway became more pronounced until he started to spin before ending up pointing the wrong way on the soft verge at the side. What was amazing to me was that, it was a dual carriageway, at the height of the morning rush hour and he didn’t touch a thing – not the central reservation, other cars or even one of the trees lining the side of the road. He also managed to have his hazard lights on before the vehicle stopped moving – got to be impressed by that!

Oddly, despite not being involved in the incident, it gave me the shakes and I felt quite light headed when I got to work.

Next, I had a call from my wife to say that, having put up with the stinging sensation from her scar every time she got up, she had called the District Nurse to ask if it was normal. It turns out that she should have been using some sterile wipes daily on the scar to keep it clean and aid healing. This would have been good to have been told about a little sooner but, as far as we can tell, no damage has been done.

And finally for now, proof that I really need to catch up on some sleep! I have discovered a new game – Urinal Roulette. This is not quite as dodgy as it sounds!! In the toilets where I work, the wall mounted urinals have a raised plastic piece in the plug hole that has 10 notches – I am assuming that this is to stop larger objects from blocking the system – and, like all public lavatories, they are regularly filled with coloured blocks that clean and smell nice. Now, as the urinals are used, these blocks slowly reduce in size and tend to become ball shaped. At this point, my game begins. Whilst using the facilities, the balls of cleaner will start to rotate around the plug within the flow of ‘fluid’. I will then mentally place a bet on where it will finish up within the notches. And so, Urinal Roulette was born. And yes, I do need to get out more!

Keep loving. 

Life's Little Dramas Part 15a

As a short update to yesterdays post, the staple have been removed. Now the scar is stinging as it is pulled slightly during manoeuvres around the house but this should pass quite soon apparently. The bruising is severe and explains some of the pain that she has been in!

Now we just have to wait. Today is one week since the op and we were told that the results of the biopsy would be ready in two weeks. As I mentioned, we are hoping not to hear as they will only contact us directly if there is any indication of malignancy. Here is a real case of 'no news is good news'!

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 15

A brief update - Today we are due to be visited by Nerys Hughes. That will probably pass anyone under 35 by so I will illuminate those of you with youth on your side! There was once a very popular series starring that particular lady called The District Nurse and we are expecting the district nurse to visit my wife today. OK, so that wasn't very interesting but it amused me! What is quite interesting is that her visit is to assess whether or not the staples can be removed and do it if the answer is yes. This seems almost indecently hasty as the operation was only 1 week ago but, if it is to be the case, then it is very impressive! Personally, I am relieved to be at work as I have seen the instrument with which said staples will be removed - it looks like an industrial staple remover you would use on packaging! I would faint before the tool got withing 6 inches of the wound and would, therefore, be completely useless.

I also thought you might be amused by a tale of failed bathing. My good lady hates being 'dirty' and wanted to have a bath prior to a threatened visit by her brother, sister-in-law and assorted brood. She is under strict instructions not to get her wound wet so, with electric raising and lowering chair thing fitted in the bath, I suggested that we could lower her part way thus avoiding immersion of the offending area. Next she decided that she would like me to wash her hair. This would make keeping that area dry nigh on impossible so we struck upon the idea of wrapping her scar in cling film. This would not keep water out if submerged but would keep her dry from splashing caused by the hair washing. Suitably wrapped, we got her seated and ready to be lowered so I pressed the button and....nothing! The bloody seat would not go down. In the end, her feet were in the water and I washer her hair at a very comfortable level for me but not the ideal set up for her. Still, at least she was able to clean herself ready for the visitation which, after putting on the posh coffee machine and laying out shortbread biscuits for the horde, turned out to be just her brother. Ho, hum.

Anyway. Time to work and await the news of Nerys :)

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 14

Well, as of 12.30 yesterday afternoon, my wife is home. She did not enjoy the journey by hospital transport due to the nature of the suspension and had bled slightly by the time she was home but, most importantly, she is now in her own environment.

She is sore and in quite a deal of pain but that is to be expected. The unexpected result of the procedure is 'wind'. It seems that as a tool for the surgeons, they pump the area full of air. I presume to give more area to work in whilst not opening up more than is necessary. This meant that, whilst watching Marple last night, I was treated to a series of belches and 'other' wind that sadly and childishly made me giggle. Trying to explain to someone who is laced with pain killers and is trying to release the pressure on her abdomen that burps and farts are funny just elicited frowns - but I couldn't help it!

On Monday, we expect a nurse to arrive and remove the staples they now use to hold bits of flesh together. This will, no doubt, increase her pain levels again but it is another step on the recovery road so should be embraced. Last night, she even slept for quite a number of hours and even went back to sleep after a call of nature in the middle of the night - something that would not have happened before.

So, for now, we take things very slowly and she will have to put up with my cooking attempts and my housework. As time goes on, we may have more hurdles to jump but we can at least look forward more than a couple of weeks at a time again.

For readers of this blog who have started reading during these last, fraught, couple of months, I will continue to update during the recovery though, once that is out of the way, I can hope that these may become fewer and further between but I hope you will look in on some of my other musings as I write them. All those that have read any of  Life's Little Dramas, you have made the process bearable without ever commenting (apart from my two very good friends - you know who you are and you have both been rocks), you may think you did nothing but, just knowing that someone was looking made it feel worthwhile. It started out as a simple outlet for my concerns and worries but became much more than that. I love you all for that.

Anyway, to steal from Spinal Tap, 'But hey! Enough of my yacking'

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 13

The operation was a success. The tumor (melony) has been removed. The best news of all though (well, just after the fact that my wife has come through it OK) is that the lump was benign!! Two characters that will mean a hell of a lot - B9. That's no chemo or radio therapy, no immediate risk of return or spread.

Now the long process of recovery starts. Very little that she will be allowed to do - it is described as Hotel Rest. That basically means that she has to be waited upon hand and foot. Do I care? Absolutely not! Things can only get better now! I will try and keep you updated as things occur.

Here's to a more relaxed 2012 :)

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 12

Well, the big day has arrived.
Our dog is on holiday - that is what we tell her when we take her to the kennels.
My wife has been checked in and is due for the exorcism between 2 and three this afternoon.
I am at work.

It all sounds very calm doesn't it? Oh how wrong that is! On Friday night, I went shopping for the weekend and, on Saturday for what she called her 'last supper' (such a positive thought), I cooked roast chicken with roast potatoes, batter puddings, sprouts, carrots, homemade bread sauce and homemade stuffing. We ate, we drank and we went to bed at about 9pm. Sadly, we didn't both sleep. Whilst, mentally, I felt as if I was coping rather well and feeling quite relaxed, my body decided to tell me differently. At 2am I had to run to the toilet. At 3am I had to run again and, by 5am when my wife was awake, I was feeling decidedly jaded. To add to the fun, my childhood eczema decided it was time for a re-visit and both my forearms were covered and itching. This has meant that I have come to work in January with a short sleeved shirt on - that has raised a few eyebrows!

Thankfully, with 75 minutes on the commute, my stomach has decided to behave itself now so I am feeling a little less delicate. Now, all I can do is wait. I have to call the hospital before I leave tonight to ascertain whether she is awake and how things went. Until then, I have work to keep me occupied. The only other alternative would be to stay home and worry so I am in the best place. The countdown is now on for the demise of 'Melony'. Personally, I can't wait.

Keep loving

Life's Little Dramas Part 11

Nothing major to report this time. This is more of an observation...

Considering the human body's amazing capacity to heal itself (within limits), it amazes me how it also conspires to make life as difficult as possible for itself! What I am talking about is sleep - or lack of it. As the exorcism approaches (Monday in case you had somehow forgotten :-) ), you would imagine that the self-preservation condition would kick in. The brain would acknowledge that the operation will be beneficial and relax to allow sleep or, the operation will be traumatic and, therefore, the body needs to rest to gather all its strength to be able to recover. Does it hell! The brain decides that this is a big and scary event that is approaching and so goes into overdrive. The upshot being that neither the patient nor myself got much more than a couple of hours sleep last night and that is likely to be similar or worse over the next two.

As I sit at my desk trying to remember all the things I thought of in the car on my commute that I needed to put down here, I realise that 75% of them have been forgotten. I will probably remember them in a few days time - far too late for them to be of any use and well after the time that I could have set them down here and amazed you with my wry and witty observations. Tiredness is a horrible sensation. You feel as if you are working at a different speed to the world around you, pathetic jokes seem hysterically funny (and you laugh dementedly whilst your friends / colleagues look at you in fear and sympathy), the simplest of tasks become increasingly difficult and everyday parts of your job that can be done in a matter of minutes suddenly need doing 5 minutes before you leave for home - and are usually done badly. If the brain and body are trying to tell you that they need a rest, perhaps they should realise that, if they waited until you were in your own home, you might actually be able to do something about it. I am reasonably sure that there are few employers that would be happy for you to rest your head upon your desk and take a nap at 10am! Though I may be (and frequently am) wrong.

For now, I shall have to satisfy myself with the thought that I may be able to squeeze in a little lie-in at the weekend and maybe a couple of nights sleep during our enforced separation but, I doubt it will happen. Saturday and Sunday will be taken up with re-spring cleaning the house (in case anyone visits and notices that it hasn't been done since last Sunday - they check you know) and packing the small case and make-up bag for her stay. The latter will, no doubt, be done at least three times as decisions about what to take are made, changed, changed again then changed back to the choices that were made in the first place. There will be minor tiffs over the stupidest of things and I will also have to set-up all the series recordings of the programs that must not be missed whilst she is away (but will probably never be watched - until I delete them 6 months down the line at which time they will be the only thing worth watching on TV from the 50+ channels we have at our disposal!) and searching for the dog's vaccination certificate for her stay at the kennels. I feel worn out just typing about it!

All I can concentrate on though, through all the mayhem is, the point of the whole procedure is to rid my wife of a growth that is now making her look like she is in the early stages of pregnancy. This is, without wishing to sound too dramatic, a life-saving operation. Should I be complaining? No. Should I be worried? Probably. Should I be strong? Of course I should but, am I? Not as strong as I want to be! Come Wednesday night, it will all be over and she will be home for 'hotel rest' assuming that all goes as it should. Then there will only be two things to concentrate on - First that she gets better and does not try to do too much too soon and second, the results of the biopsy which could, potentially, turn our world upside down again but could, equally, release us from this strange limbo. We will have to wait and see.

For now...Keep loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 10

Part 10? Blimey, I didn't realise there was so much to talk about!

Well, yesterday was the pre-operative consultation. The chance for us to be quizzed about other health issues, to be told what to expect and to ask all the questions that have been troubling us since the diagnosis. I think the idea was to reassure both my wife (on the finer points of the procedure) and myself (on the finer points of the recovery process) but, somewhere along the line, I lost the reassurance part. This didn't happen at the time but, as time passed after returning home, it just seemed to ebb away as the thought processes caught up with me.

The doctor was very pleasant and friendly, the Staff Nurse was efficient and to the point but definitely not rude. The news that my wife is likely to be home by the Wednesday night was a pleasant surprise and the description of the following few weeks as 'Hotel Rest' was amusingly good. But, as I was taking the dog for a run at a local park, doubts started to creep in. As I ran over the 60 minute consultation in my head, comments that were thrown into the mix and lost at the time, re-surfaced. As an example, a passing reference to 'Melony' being sent for a biopsy was left as if there was nothing to be concerned about. I don't know how quickly these things are done but, having had the procedure described as an 'emergency admission' due to the rapid growth, I can only assume that any tests will be carried out at the earliest opportunity. This could mean a delay to the discharge if it is malignant but, as they said it was likely that she would be home on Wednesday, as far as she is concerned, she will be home on that day. Nothing was said about post-operative treatment should that be the case. It was almost as if they were keeping that from us.

Now, I might be looking at this a little bleakly but, when examining my wife, the doctor mentioned that she wasn't sure which side the growth was attached to. We joked that maybe this was due to it shrinking / disappearing. We were brought down to earth with a veritable bump when she informed us that it was because is was even larger now and was across both sides! I don't know about 99% of the World but, to me, that is frightening.

I must now gather myself for work and for being at home and supportive (something I very nearly failed at last night) and not try to think of the outcomes at this stage. Monday is the date for the op and, until then, there is nothing we can do. All we are required to do is, on Sunday, wash my wife down with and antibacterial wash then, on Monday morning, repeat the anti-bacterial treatment and stick a syringe in her stomach! This is a new one on me, we now have to administer a sort of pre-med ourselves! This could be interesting as I have a morbid fear of needles - 6' 2" and scared of a needle!!

Anyway, for now, life goes on so please, keep loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 9

I am very nearly going to start with a positive this post! Shocked as you may be, I did write 'very nearly' in that sentence.
After a shaky start to 2012, things had slowly been improving until Friday. A slight stumble at home set off the fear factor and I had to shoot home as my wife was too scared to move by herself again and her bladder capacity is somewhat reduced due to the pressure of 'Melony'. Friday was fraught but, having got her to bed in the evening, she actually managed a reasonable night's sleep. In the morning, the brain was sharp even if the body wasn't quite up to muster so she amused herself by directing me with jobs.
First job of the day was to drive her car over to her Dad. His car was written off shortly before Christmas and the hire car was coming to the end of its tenure. As her car was taxed and MOT'd and sitting on the drive doing nothing, we thought it could at least go to a good home. Once home again, the Spring Clean began and I have been doing that for most of the weekend. The result is, we are actually living in a home again rather than a tip. However, I am now back at work for a rest :)

Tomorrow is the pre-op where we have the opportunity to ask all the difficult questions. I know we will forget the important ones and will end up going away with more questions than answers but, at least it is one step closer to the exorcism. Time is passing both quickly and slowly at the same time (does that make sense). I approach next weekend with a mixture of dread and hope. Lots to think about, probably lots to blog about.

For now, keep loving.

Life's Little Dramas Part 8

To start, may I wish any who read these ramblings, wherever you may be in the World, a Happy New Year. I hope 2012 will bring you all that you wish for.

Now, down to the nitty-gritty - how was the Christmas break in our household? Not great if I'm honest. Unfortunately, our plan to ignore the whole 'melony' business didn't work as planned. To be expected I suppose, but I didn't expect it to falter quite as early as it did. I managed to be the cook for the holiday season and surprised myself with my abilities when working on my own - lobster thermidor on Christmas Eve, turkey with all the trimmings on Christmas day and honey glazed ham later in the week - but, by mid-way through Christmas day, the blues had definitely set-in for my wife and that just about spelt the end for the festivities.

I have to admit that my temper did wear a little thin on occasion and I said some things that I regret - though I don't think they even registered. I even resorted to the childish reaction that I would go and spend some money on myself. I ended up with a games console! As I said - childish, but ultimately the light relief that I needed.

For now, we have to concentrate on the busy schedule starting next week. Three appointments on three different days followed by the exorcism starting the following Monday. Lots to think about, lots to arrange and lots to worry about so, for now, the situation will not improve for a while. There is also the dog to kennel for the week or so that she will be in, trying to organise her sister's travel from Wales to coincide with her release, taking the decorations down and generally getting the house back to 'normal'. Oh, and I almost forgot that I have to go to work too :) I guess that seems to be the least of my worries at the moment.

So, do as I say, don't do as I say - Keep loving.