I fully expect the fertilizer to hit the fan very soon-when the GMC contacts the doctors involved in the botched case. So...I'm prepared. I'm looking at different hospitals, I've talked with my GP (who has been fantastic), and I've got a long scarf and dark glasses-just in case!!
Now all I need is a mask...
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
Small victories...small, but huge in the end
On Saturday I went out to look at the car-and I could see that the tires were on their way to total flatness. Not so good, so I figured I would take a chance and go put air in the tires on Sunday morning. That was the plan, anyway. I haven't really driven in two and a half years-only to move the car from one space to another, and never in traffic, rain, snow, any weather conditions that could be dangerous. I do have my marbles, after all!!
Sunday morning, at 7:15-still dark, but the roads are lit-I decided to take the car up the road a mile and a bit to the Shell station, pay my 50p (imagine having to pay for air and water-what a con!), fill the tires and come back. And-I did it!! It was dark, but I didn't hit anything, or maim or kill anyone-I drove (a little nervously) to the station, filled the tires (did they ever need air!!), and drove back home without any problem whatsoever.
I got back, got inside, and punched the air in triumph. I must admit, I was a bit proud of myself for even daring to drive in the dark. Of course, there weren't many cars on the road yet, so no lights shining in my eyes. It was dry...but even three months ago, I wouldn't ever have taken the risk. So I have some of my confidence back. Now I need to build on that by driving to the supermarket, which is about a mile further down the road than the gas station. Go there, go back, and just keep driving short distances until I feel confident enough to venture a bit further. And I remember my vestibular physiotherapist telling me last summer that I need to get out and drive, although I should be mindful of weather conditions, traffic, and all the things that would make me nervous (including having an accident!!).
I know it's been two and a half years-more, in fact. I know I have had absolutely no patience when it comes to the brain making new pathways so I can get some balance back. But I can look back and see that I am still improving, and that I am still moving forward-although it is very, very slow going.
The fat lady hasn't sung yet-nowhere near it. Keep death on the roads, that's what I say! LOL!!!!!
I got an email from the General Medical Council, telling me that the complaint has been referred to someone who will be investigating it. We shall see if that really happens. I'm not very trusting of doctors; to me, they are one step above personal injury lawyers-who are about a half a step above politicians!! Ah, cynic that I am!!!
Sunday morning, at 7:15-still dark, but the roads are lit-I decided to take the car up the road a mile and a bit to the Shell station, pay my 50p (imagine having to pay for air and water-what a con!), fill the tires and come back. And-I did it!! It was dark, but I didn't hit anything, or maim or kill anyone-I drove (a little nervously) to the station, filled the tires (did they ever need air!!), and drove back home without any problem whatsoever.
I got back, got inside, and punched the air in triumph. I must admit, I was a bit proud of myself for even daring to drive in the dark. Of course, there weren't many cars on the road yet, so no lights shining in my eyes. It was dry...but even three months ago, I wouldn't ever have taken the risk. So I have some of my confidence back. Now I need to build on that by driving to the supermarket, which is about a mile further down the road than the gas station. Go there, go back, and just keep driving short distances until I feel confident enough to venture a bit further. And I remember my vestibular physiotherapist telling me last summer that I need to get out and drive, although I should be mindful of weather conditions, traffic, and all the things that would make me nervous (including having an accident!!).
I know it's been two and a half years-more, in fact. I know I have had absolutely no patience when it comes to the brain making new pathways so I can get some balance back. But I can look back and see that I am still improving, and that I am still moving forward-although it is very, very slow going.
The fat lady hasn't sung yet-nowhere near it. Keep death on the roads, that's what I say! LOL!!!!!
I got an email from the General Medical Council, telling me that the complaint has been referred to someone who will be investigating it. We shall see if that really happens. I'm not very trusting of doctors; to me, they are one step above personal injury lawyers-who are about a half a step above politicians!! Ah, cynic that I am!!!
Saturday, 26 January 2013
Once again in deep doodoo
I went home on Tuesday and started to do laundry, and cleaning, and all that boring (but necessary) stuff. Then I got "the call". This was from the registrar at the hospital, telling me that my consultant, Matt, wanted me to come in asap. I said-it's 3:30, I just can't drop everything - and I need transport to get there. Anya, her name is: very unpleasant, too. Anyway, things were finally sorted out by my GP-and, sure enough, the hospital transport didn't show up until 9:30pm. Typical NHS brilliance, I say!!!
Now-on Tuesday, I had replied to the General Medical Council's investigators, and I decided to email my chest consultant to ask her to move me out of the combined clinic she shares with-none other than Sofia Grigoriadou, the last person on this earth I want in my life. I pointed out to Lieske (chest consultant) that this woman crippled me for life, that I trusted Lieske but not Sofia, and that the only room I wanted to see Sofia in is a courtroom. I fired off that email, and, of course, actions have consequences. I didn't count on dropping myself into deepest, darkest doodoo with Matthew, my immunologist-but that is exactly what I did. And-in a big way.
On Wednesday morning, one of the registrars came to see me and told me that they wanted to take a chest scan and run tests, and that I would be under observation, but I wouldn't get any meds until they figured out what was wrong-I was glad, because I am already 99% antibiotics, so I didn't want more if I didn't need them. Fine. Then, in the afternoon, Matthew arrived, very angry, in a very pissy mood, and very combative.
He took offence at my email to Lieske (I copied it to him-more fool me!). Well, he laid into me like you wouldn't believe, calling me bullying, saying that I had no right to say things about his colleague-whom he trusted and was part of his team-and so on. He ranted for about 45 minutes, and threatened to discharge me from the service and send me back to my GP so she could find another immunology clinic. He had already called the Royal Free, which is very near where I live, he said-and they won't accept me as a patient. He suggested Addenbrooke's - in Cambridge, 60 miles away. I truly thought he lost it-not very compassionate, and not in the least bit professional. He and his registrar left, and I was in tears. I didn't know what I was going to do. I don't like going to Bart's, but I did (notice I'm using the past tense) trust Matthew as a clinician, and there was nobody else I knew. I would be starting all over again.
Thursday was not a good day. I didn't even get out of bed. I rang my GP, was told she didn't have any phone consultations until Monday-so I booked one, and told the practice manager what had happened. She was as gobsmacked as I was-and Margaret (my GP) rang me at 6pm and I told her the whole story.
I have to say that she was absolutely right. She pointed out that I am very angry and hurt, and for good reason-anyone who had this happen to them would be angry. BUT-actions have consequences. And she said that before I fire off any angry emails, I should stop, walk away, and think carefully about what I have written before I hit the send button. She asked me if I wanted her to email Matthew and say they need to talk; I asked her to wait, because he was due to come on the ward the next day, Friday.
I did try to explain why I felt the way I did-this was yesterday morning-but Matthew wasn't having it. Honestly, I was very disappointed in him; he has the compassion of a cluster bomb. He was cold, impatient, and he told me that he would treat me but that I couldn't send any more emails, and that he would treat whatever chest infection I have, but that would be it. He would not listen to anything having to do with gentamicin, other consultants, anything. And he said I could go home. My scan was good, my bloodwork was good, go home and go back to see my GP. And then he and his four registrars left.
I got home at 4pm...so happy to be there! I have to say, I could have been more diplomatic in my email to Lieske-but I have good reasons for feeling the way I do: betrayed, hard done by, and abused, both as a patient and as a human being. I have no respect for Matthew-he blew that when he had a go at me.
So there you are, the whole sorry tale. I'm glad I didn't hear back from the media. Would I ever be in shit street if anyone published that story!! I would have to move to Belfast just to see an immunologist!!!!
I believe the whole system is grossly unfair. I think that doctors should be made accountable for their actions-and be subjected to public scrutiny, so there is no cover-up and no whitewashing. In this country, there is more of a chance of being hit by a meteor than seeing changes in the law. Sad-but true.
Well- I don't know what I am going to do next- because the General Medical Council should (allegedly) be investigating my complaint, and Matthew will certainly hear about that. Then I am out. I think the best thing I can do now is follow the vestibular physiotherapist's plan: do all the exercises he gave me (bad me, I have been such a slacker!!), do everything that makes me dizzy, and as often as I can, steer clear of stress (ho, really? Easier said than done!!), drink a lot of water, get enough sleep (as if!), and try my best not to be run over by a moving vehicle. And maintain my sense of humor!!
Dr Dimples said that I can get 80% of my balance back if I keep challenging my brain to make new neural pathways-although he did say it would take a long time. So I need to focus on the goal, and leave all the rest of the recent crap behind. I'm giving myself until August to get that 80%-it's a goal, and an achievable one, I think. I also think that I can stay out of hospitals and stay away from Bart's if I start seeing myself as healthy, and focus on the positives, not the negatives.
And I will start looking at other immunology centers, just in case!!! I can't help thinking that, when the General Medical Council contacts Sofia, and Phil, and Hilary, there will be a shitstorm of epic proportions. Heh-THEN I will think about going to the media!!! My motto: never give up.
Now-on Tuesday, I had replied to the General Medical Council's investigators, and I decided to email my chest consultant to ask her to move me out of the combined clinic she shares with-none other than Sofia Grigoriadou, the last person on this earth I want in my life. I pointed out to Lieske (chest consultant) that this woman crippled me for life, that I trusted Lieske but not Sofia, and that the only room I wanted to see Sofia in is a courtroom. I fired off that email, and, of course, actions have consequences. I didn't count on dropping myself into deepest, darkest doodoo with Matthew, my immunologist-but that is exactly what I did. And-in a big way.
On Wednesday morning, one of the registrars came to see me and told me that they wanted to take a chest scan and run tests, and that I would be under observation, but I wouldn't get any meds until they figured out what was wrong-I was glad, because I am already 99% antibiotics, so I didn't want more if I didn't need them. Fine. Then, in the afternoon, Matthew arrived, very angry, in a very pissy mood, and very combative.
He took offence at my email to Lieske (I copied it to him-more fool me!). Well, he laid into me like you wouldn't believe, calling me bullying, saying that I had no right to say things about his colleague-whom he trusted and was part of his team-and so on. He ranted for about 45 minutes, and threatened to discharge me from the service and send me back to my GP so she could find another immunology clinic. He had already called the Royal Free, which is very near where I live, he said-and they won't accept me as a patient. He suggested Addenbrooke's - in Cambridge, 60 miles away. I truly thought he lost it-not very compassionate, and not in the least bit professional. He and his registrar left, and I was in tears. I didn't know what I was going to do. I don't like going to Bart's, but I did (notice I'm using the past tense) trust Matthew as a clinician, and there was nobody else I knew. I would be starting all over again.
Thursday was not a good day. I didn't even get out of bed. I rang my GP, was told she didn't have any phone consultations until Monday-so I booked one, and told the practice manager what had happened. She was as gobsmacked as I was-and Margaret (my GP) rang me at 6pm and I told her the whole story.
I have to say that she was absolutely right. She pointed out that I am very angry and hurt, and for good reason-anyone who had this happen to them would be angry. BUT-actions have consequences. And she said that before I fire off any angry emails, I should stop, walk away, and think carefully about what I have written before I hit the send button. She asked me if I wanted her to email Matthew and say they need to talk; I asked her to wait, because he was due to come on the ward the next day, Friday.
I did try to explain why I felt the way I did-this was yesterday morning-but Matthew wasn't having it. Honestly, I was very disappointed in him; he has the compassion of a cluster bomb. He was cold, impatient, and he told me that he would treat me but that I couldn't send any more emails, and that he would treat whatever chest infection I have, but that would be it. He would not listen to anything having to do with gentamicin, other consultants, anything. And he said I could go home. My scan was good, my bloodwork was good, go home and go back to see my GP. And then he and his four registrars left.
I got home at 4pm...so happy to be there! I have to say, I could have been more diplomatic in my email to Lieske-but I have good reasons for feeling the way I do: betrayed, hard done by, and abused, both as a patient and as a human being. I have no respect for Matthew-he blew that when he had a go at me.
So there you are, the whole sorry tale. I'm glad I didn't hear back from the media. Would I ever be in shit street if anyone published that story!! I would have to move to Belfast just to see an immunologist!!!!
I believe the whole system is grossly unfair. I think that doctors should be made accountable for their actions-and be subjected to public scrutiny, so there is no cover-up and no whitewashing. In this country, there is more of a chance of being hit by a meteor than seeing changes in the law. Sad-but true.
Well- I don't know what I am going to do next- because the General Medical Council should (allegedly) be investigating my complaint, and Matthew will certainly hear about that. Then I am out. I think the best thing I can do now is follow the vestibular physiotherapist's plan: do all the exercises he gave me (bad me, I have been such a slacker!!), do everything that makes me dizzy, and as often as I can, steer clear of stress (ho, really? Easier said than done!!), drink a lot of water, get enough sleep (as if!), and try my best not to be run over by a moving vehicle. And maintain my sense of humor!!
Dr Dimples said that I can get 80% of my balance back if I keep challenging my brain to make new neural pathways-although he did say it would take a long time. So I need to focus on the goal, and leave all the rest of the recent crap behind. I'm giving myself until August to get that 80%-it's a goal, and an achievable one, I think. I also think that I can stay out of hospitals and stay away from Bart's if I start seeing myself as healthy, and focus on the positives, not the negatives.
And I will start looking at other immunology centers, just in case!!! I can't help thinking that, when the General Medical Council contacts Sofia, and Phil, and Hilary, there will be a shitstorm of epic proportions. Heh-THEN I will think about going to the media!!! My motto: never give up.
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Oh, finally!!
I was snowed in-and I do mean, snowed in!! Saturday was difficult, but Sunday it just kept snowing. And nobody knows how to deal with snow and ice here!! So I hung out at home, did laundry, and complained to myself about not being able to get out to do anything. The roads were sheets of ice, the pavements-well, anyway, I am able to negotiate the ice patches without falling and breaking something. That would be the next exciting thing to happen!!
I received an email from the General Medical Council- they apologized for not answering sooner, but said that they never received the original complaints. They have promised to investigate. I'm telling them everything that happened, and I will be interested to see what (if anything) they do about it. Of course, my name will be worse than sh*t at Barts and the London-but who cares?
I'm seeing flakes (snow flakes!!)-so I will get my little self to the supermarket while I can still walk(ish).
I'm in battle mode!! Always ready for a good fight for rights-usually other people's, but mine this time!!
I received an email from the General Medical Council- they apologized for not answering sooner, but said that they never received the original complaints. They have promised to investigate. I'm telling them everything that happened, and I will be interested to see what (if anything) they do about it. Of course, my name will be worse than sh*t at Barts and the London-but who cares?
I'm seeing flakes (snow flakes!!)-so I will get my little self to the supermarket while I can still walk(ish).
I'm in battle mode!! Always ready for a good fight for rights-usually other people's, but mine this time!!
Saturday, 19 January 2013
Frozen in London
Someone put a comment on the blog-asking if I have been killed by the hospital, since I haven't posted since Wednesday. No-not dead yet-but, of course, there is still time!!!
On Thursday, I took my life in my hands and went to Barts-where I spent eight hours having iron infusions. What a joy-they wonder why I'm anemic-well, of course I am anemic, they keep taking my blood!!! Anyway, I got home late, very tired, and that was my Thursday gone.
Yesterday-it snowed. And I do mean, it snowed. In North London we had about an inch of snow-and the rest of London had about the same-and the entire city was crippled. You would think that, after several winters with snow (at least an inch), someone would think of having enough grit for the roads, and getting out and gritting both roads and pavements...errr...well, no, and we now have sheets of ice on the pavements. That makes it lethal for anyone who is able-bodied, let alone someone (me, in fact) on a walking stick. It must be comical to watch me trying to walk on ice-I have a gait like Charlie Chaplin. Except I fall over.
So, that is the latest from me. Still alive, still trying to walk regardless of snow, ice, fog, bad weather...and still trying to decide on changing hospitals. First: the lawsuit, the media, the fight with Barts Trust. Then I think I will have to find another doctor, because I don't trust anyone at Barts. It's a quandary.
I actually saw something I haven't seen in years: snowball fights. I live on a small side road, and kids were scooping up snow and having snowball fights. It was great: it reminded me of my youth. LOL I was young once, yes!! And we used to lie in the snow and make snow angels. Nobody does that here. How sad.
On Thursday, I took my life in my hands and went to Barts-where I spent eight hours having iron infusions. What a joy-they wonder why I'm anemic-well, of course I am anemic, they keep taking my blood!!! Anyway, I got home late, very tired, and that was my Thursday gone.
Yesterday-it snowed. And I do mean, it snowed. In North London we had about an inch of snow-and the rest of London had about the same-and the entire city was crippled. You would think that, after several winters with snow (at least an inch), someone would think of having enough grit for the roads, and getting out and gritting both roads and pavements...errr...well, no, and we now have sheets of ice on the pavements. That makes it lethal for anyone who is able-bodied, let alone someone (me, in fact) on a walking stick. It must be comical to watch me trying to walk on ice-I have a gait like Charlie Chaplin. Except I fall over.
So, that is the latest from me. Still alive, still trying to walk regardless of snow, ice, fog, bad weather...and still trying to decide on changing hospitals. First: the lawsuit, the media, the fight with Barts Trust. Then I think I will have to find another doctor, because I don't trust anyone at Barts. It's a quandary.
I actually saw something I haven't seen in years: snowball fights. I live on a small side road, and kids were scooping up snow and having snowball fights. It was great: it reminded me of my youth. LOL I was young once, yes!! And we used to lie in the snow and make snow angels. Nobody does that here. How sad.
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
The Iceman Cometh
Actually, it's the winter that cometh. It's freezing out there-and in here, too. Brrrr....this is playing havoc with my balance, and my vision-at least, that is my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.
I had this tap on my shoulder yesterday; I was in the supermarket, and I thought, oh dear, I have no place to hide (in case I have to hide). It was my physiotherapist, and she has been following the blog. At least it was someone friendly. And-she comes from Ireland, so anything I say about the Brits makes her laugh-so I'm safe there (so far).
She said that she is behind me in my crusade-but did I remember the old saying "hoist by one's own petard"? This, by the way, means being blown up by your own bomb, or doing something to someone else that will hurt you more than it will hurt them. I heard this saying years and years ago-It's worth remembering.
I really had to think about this-and very seriously. I considered every avenue before I began this campaign-even the fact that I might be forced to change hospitals and consultants-and, truthfully, I am still in a quandary.
I believe that everyone, regardless of background, or class, or money, or status-everyone-is entitled to decent medical treatment. That is why we have a national health system, even though it is being systematically destroyed by this current government; the NHS works in theory, but in practice it is imploding at warp speed. The Royal London has two shiny new (expensive) buildings, and Barts Hospital is being upgraded-but the nursing staff is being cut so badly that there are fewer nurses who are forced to work double shifts, do twice the work, and they are doing this for the same pay. It's either that, or quit. Some choice!
I'm doing this because the doctors who are responsible for this travesty need to be forced to be publicly accountable-and by publicly, I mean publicly. There is no point in doctors investigating doctors, because there will invariably be a whitewash, a cover-up. That is the way it works-not only here, but everywhere. So there needs to be public scrutiny involved-because I know this has happened to other people, and I don't want this to happen to anyone else-ever. And this could easily have been avoided if the doctors had any level of competence.
I also want gentamicin to be banned in this country-and in every other country. Gent. is 50 years old, and nobody can tell me that, with all the advances in medicine, there aren't other drugs that do the same (or better) -except, of course, they cost more. So the NHS is taking the easy way out: buy the cheapest drug, even if it is highly toxic and causes horrific damage. Ban it. Those who make the decisions can pay themselves a bit less; it's the patients that count.
I want to go elsewhere-but there is only the Royal Free, which happens to be around the corner. But I could be going from the frying pan straight into the fire, so I'm not sure I want to do that.
I do have a feeling that everyone at Barts will be treating me with a great deal of caution (in addition to the obvious hostility to which I have been subjected so far).
If someone wants justice-if someone wants to right a wrong that is very, very wrong indeed-if someone is so fed up with a system that desperately needs a thorough overhaul, and nobody else is doing anything about it-then one must take risks. And-if anything happens to me, we will all know who is responsible!!!!!! Accidental poisoning? Sure. Accidental poisoning, my backside!
I had this tap on my shoulder yesterday; I was in the supermarket, and I thought, oh dear, I have no place to hide (in case I have to hide). It was my physiotherapist, and she has been following the blog. At least it was someone friendly. And-she comes from Ireland, so anything I say about the Brits makes her laugh-so I'm safe there (so far).
She said that she is behind me in my crusade-but did I remember the old saying "hoist by one's own petard"? This, by the way, means being blown up by your own bomb, or doing something to someone else that will hurt you more than it will hurt them. I heard this saying years and years ago-It's worth remembering.
I really had to think about this-and very seriously. I considered every avenue before I began this campaign-even the fact that I might be forced to change hospitals and consultants-and, truthfully, I am still in a quandary.
I believe that everyone, regardless of background, or class, or money, or status-everyone-is entitled to decent medical treatment. That is why we have a national health system, even though it is being systematically destroyed by this current government; the NHS works in theory, but in practice it is imploding at warp speed. The Royal London has two shiny new (expensive) buildings, and Barts Hospital is being upgraded-but the nursing staff is being cut so badly that there are fewer nurses who are forced to work double shifts, do twice the work, and they are doing this for the same pay. It's either that, or quit. Some choice!
I'm doing this because the doctors who are responsible for this travesty need to be forced to be publicly accountable-and by publicly, I mean publicly. There is no point in doctors investigating doctors, because there will invariably be a whitewash, a cover-up. That is the way it works-not only here, but everywhere. So there needs to be public scrutiny involved-because I know this has happened to other people, and I don't want this to happen to anyone else-ever. And this could easily have been avoided if the doctors had any level of competence.
I also want gentamicin to be banned in this country-and in every other country. Gent. is 50 years old, and nobody can tell me that, with all the advances in medicine, there aren't other drugs that do the same (or better) -except, of course, they cost more. So the NHS is taking the easy way out: buy the cheapest drug, even if it is highly toxic and causes horrific damage. Ban it. Those who make the decisions can pay themselves a bit less; it's the patients that count.
I want to go elsewhere-but there is only the Royal Free, which happens to be around the corner. But I could be going from the frying pan straight into the fire, so I'm not sure I want to do that.
I do have a feeling that everyone at Barts will be treating me with a great deal of caution (in addition to the obvious hostility to which I have been subjected so far).
If someone wants justice-if someone wants to right a wrong that is very, very wrong indeed-if someone is so fed up with a system that desperately needs a thorough overhaul, and nobody else is doing anything about it-then one must take risks. And-if anything happens to me, we will all know who is responsible!!!!!! Accidental poisoning? Sure. Accidental poisoning, my backside!
Monday, 14 January 2013
Correction!!
This is what happens when I am in too big a rush to give the correct email address for the General Medical Council: practise@gmc-uk.org
Oh, dear-sorry to those of you who made the attempt. But I did send a very curt email to the BBC, and Channel 4, and, while I was at it, to the Daily Express. Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to involve The Sun-because it is the equivalent of the National Enquirer. Eeeek!!!
I'm doing a lot of exercises so I can learn to duck really fast!!! Of course, I am only 5'3" tall, so I can just walk behind tall people!!!! Either that, or move...
Oh, dear-sorry to those of you who made the attempt. But I did send a very curt email to the BBC, and Channel 4, and, while I was at it, to the Daily Express. Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to involve The Sun-because it is the equivalent of the National Enquirer. Eeeek!!!
I'm doing a lot of exercises so I can learn to duck really fast!!! Of course, I am only 5'3" tall, so I can just walk behind tall people!!!! Either that, or move...
I've stuck my head up over the parapet-again
Well, there are some results-my campaign has got off to a slow start-but it is still a start. And it is early days! People are taking notice; people are writing; people are as fed up with injustice as I am. People power: there is nothing like it.
I know what a risk I am taking over this-but someone has to do it, and it is a risk I am prepared to take. Nothing will change if people don't stand up and fight for change!!
I received an unsigned email on the yahoo account. The writer said that I am absolutely out of my mind for even thinking about doing this campaign, because only a very small percentage of people who complain over malpractice ever receive any compensation-let alone any kind of investigation into the incompetent doctors who have injured them. He (or she) then went on to wish me the best of luck-but also to remind me that the next time I have to go into Barts or the Royal London as an inpatient, they will probably poison me, and call it an accident. Why am I not surprised?
Whatever happens, I will have to be extremely careful (as the writer of the email pointed out, people have been murdered for less). Paranoid? Who is paranoid?
I will absolutely have to lose the walking stick; I can wobble without it, I will just wobble a bit more.
I will need to wear a hat. And dark glasses. And a scarf. And gloves. Perhaps I should wear a mask....
I know what a risk I am taking over this-but someone has to do it, and it is a risk I am prepared to take. Nothing will change if people don't stand up and fight for change!!
I received an unsigned email on the yahoo account. The writer said that I am absolutely out of my mind for even thinking about doing this campaign, because only a very small percentage of people who complain over malpractice ever receive any compensation-let alone any kind of investigation into the incompetent doctors who have injured them. He (or she) then went on to wish me the best of luck-but also to remind me that the next time I have to go into Barts or the Royal London as an inpatient, they will probably poison me, and call it an accident. Why am I not surprised?
Whatever happens, I will have to be extremely careful (as the writer of the email pointed out, people have been murdered for less). Paranoid? Who is paranoid?
I will absolutely have to lose the walking stick; I can wobble without it, I will just wobble a bit more.
I will need to wear a hat. And dark glasses. And a scarf. And gloves. Perhaps I should wear a mask....
Saturday, 12 January 2013
People Power Rules-always
Two and a half years ago, I was afraid I would be a vegetable for the rest of my life. Now, I have not only become a blogger, but also an activist. Funny how that has happened!!
I'm always surprised when I see that people (and not only the people I know) are reading this blog. Now I am gratified to see that people have answered the call: they are writing to limerabbit4justice@yahoo.co.uk Imagine that!!
The question that arises is: how do I write to the General Medical Council? What do I write? So I thought I would post the email I sent (complete with copies to all those media people whose addresses I noted in yesterday's post. Won't that cause an uproar!!! Hopefully!!!!)
Sirs:
In 2010, a patient at Bart's Hospital in London was crippled, and her life destroyed, by gentamicin: this drug was not monitored, not administered correctly, and her cries to be taken off the drug due to severe side effects were deliberately ignored by her doctors - who saw all signs of gentamicin ototoxicity and chose to ignore them, telling her she was "imagining things". This caused complete vestibular destruction and severe visual impairment-both of which are complete, and permanent, and she is now completely disabled.
These doctors lied, telling her that she would "be fine", and that they did nothing wrong. You received two complaints and demands for a full investigation; you received these within six months of the occurrence, and you have ignored them. Why?
The doctors: Philip Bright, reg. no. 6103350
Sofia Grigoriadou, reg. no. 4282352
Hilary Longhurst, reg. no. 2981570
are guilty of gross negligence, incompentence, misconduct, and malpractice. They refused to listen to their patient, ignored obvious signs of vestibular destruction, and arrogantly lied to the patient. They are hiding behind Barts and the London, who appear to shield them (and other incompetent doctors within the trust) who should not be practicing medicine. Barts appears to condone this disgusting behavior; there is overwhelming evidence to prove the guilt of the doctors and the hospital that encourages them.
Yet- the General Medical Council does nothing-and you know that this incompetence exists all over this country, so why do you do nothing to stop it?
How many people in this country need to be crippled (or killed) at the hands of arrogant, incompetent, negligent doctors before you take action? How many emails like this one will it take for you do actively end this practice of cover-up, whitewash and collusion before you are forced to put a stop to it?
You will receive many emails like this one-and so will the media-until the disgraceful practice of cover-up has ended. Barts Trust, Bright, Grigoriadou, and Longhurst must be held accountable-publicly accountable-for this utter disgrace. And you must be held accountable, too, because you chose to ignore it.
That is the email I wrote to the GMC, and copied to the media.
This campaign began because I was well and truly fed up with the injustice of it all; now it has escalated, and it is no longer just about me, but about all those people who have been crippled by gentamicin (and there are many of them), or by doctors who are completely inept and should be doing something more suited to their abilities (someone wrote in and said that the public toilets in Piccadilly could use a good clean!!).
This isn't about me; it's about all of us. And there is a war on. Anyone else care to join me?
I'm always surprised when I see that people (and not only the people I know) are reading this blog. Now I am gratified to see that people have answered the call: they are writing to limerabbit4justice@yahoo.co.uk Imagine that!!
The question that arises is: how do I write to the General Medical Council? What do I write? So I thought I would post the email I sent (complete with copies to all those media people whose addresses I noted in yesterday's post. Won't that cause an uproar!!! Hopefully!!!!)
Sirs:
In 2010, a patient at Bart's Hospital in London was crippled, and her life destroyed, by gentamicin: this drug was not monitored, not administered correctly, and her cries to be taken off the drug due to severe side effects were deliberately ignored by her doctors - who saw all signs of gentamicin ototoxicity and chose to ignore them, telling her she was "imagining things". This caused complete vestibular destruction and severe visual impairment-both of which are complete, and permanent, and she is now completely disabled.
These doctors lied, telling her that she would "be fine", and that they did nothing wrong. You received two complaints and demands for a full investigation; you received these within six months of the occurrence, and you have ignored them. Why?
The doctors: Philip Bright, reg. no. 6103350
Sofia Grigoriadou, reg. no. 4282352
Hilary Longhurst, reg. no. 2981570
are guilty of gross negligence, incompentence, misconduct, and malpractice. They refused to listen to their patient, ignored obvious signs of vestibular destruction, and arrogantly lied to the patient. They are hiding behind Barts and the London, who appear to shield them (and other incompetent doctors within the trust) who should not be practicing medicine. Barts appears to condone this disgusting behavior; there is overwhelming evidence to prove the guilt of the doctors and the hospital that encourages them.
Yet- the General Medical Council does nothing-and you know that this incompetence exists all over this country, so why do you do nothing to stop it?
How many people in this country need to be crippled (or killed) at the hands of arrogant, incompetent, negligent doctors before you take action? How many emails like this one will it take for you do actively end this practice of cover-up, whitewash and collusion before you are forced to put a stop to it?
You will receive many emails like this one-and so will the media-until the disgraceful practice of cover-up has ended. Barts Trust, Bright, Grigoriadou, and Longhurst must be held accountable-publicly accountable-for this utter disgrace. And you must be held accountable, too, because you chose to ignore it.
That is the email I wrote to the GMC, and copied to the media.
This campaign began because I was well and truly fed up with the injustice of it all; now it has escalated, and it is no longer just about me, but about all those people who have been crippled by gentamicin (and there are many of them), or by doctors who are completely inept and should be doing something more suited to their abilities (someone wrote in and said that the public toilets in Piccadilly could use a good clean!!).
This isn't about me; it's about all of us. And there is a war on. Anyone else care to join me?
Friday, 11 January 2013
Together we can change the world
I emailed a question to my consultant, Matt, yesterday-and I received a rather curt email back, telling me not to mention gentamicin, since the Barts Trust lawyers have informed him that he is not to discuss anything about the 2010 situation. And this started me thinking...
It's two and a half years since the incompetent doctors at Barts ignored my wishes to have them stop gentamicin-and two and a half years since I have been crippled and my life has been destroyed. And I can honestly say that the small recovery has been very, very tough.
I know I make fun of the Brits-my theory is, if they can dish it out, they should be able to take it!! But one thing that I find amazing is the reluctance to stand up and fight for compensation when they have been the victims of medical negligence, incompetence, malpractice-and general arrogant stupidity. Most of them will complain, but few will fight. If they don't fight, this problem (and it is a big one) will carry on forever.
The law in this country states that, unless a victim of malpractice is seeing a doctor privately, the patient can only sue the hospital, not the doctors. So, inept doctors who make the most inexcusable mistakes are allowed to hide behind the hospitals and the NHS, and all that happens is these charlatans continue to cripple (and, in some cases, kill) innocent people. People can apply for Legal Aid-and I'm not sure how that operates, or even if the government is still providing it. No win, no fee is a fairly recent concept here-but cases of malpractice can carry on for five years, so I wonder how dedicated these lawyers are, if they know they are in for a very long haul.
The other alternative is to pay privately for legal assistance; this is hideously expensive as well as time-consuming-but it is the way I chose to take this case to court. And Barts can (and probably will) waste as much time as they can, knowing that, if they wait long enough, I will deplete my savings and have to quit.
Is this fair? No-but, once again, it is one of the cornerstones of life: life is unfair.
I made a formal complaint to the General Medical Council about six months after the whole disaster happened; I got someone to write it out for me, since I was unable to write anything myself. And I still haven't heard anything. No surprises there; they all look after each other, I think. And, by the way, the incidents of malpractice in this country are shocking. Unless people go public (and sometimes even that does no good), all these cases are hidden.
I remember reading an interview with the anthropologist Margaret Mead (I'm going back to childhood, so I'm not absolutely quoting this). She was asked if she really believed that small groups of people could change the world. She replied that they are the only ones who can.
I sat all night thinking about that-and I think that the laws must be changed, and that all the victims of negligence and malpractice should rightly receive justice-if not financially, then certainly morally. And I figured out a way to make sure this happens: it is called people power.
I am not the person to witter, twitter, tweet, facebook, or any of that stuff - but I can email. And I set up a special email account just for this online moral crusade to change laws and to make the culprits accountable. The address is: limerabbit4justice@yahoo.co.uk
If everyone who reads this blog sends all the information I am about to give you to ten people in their address list-or posts it online, on facebook or another social networking site-and those ten people involve ten more people...and so on...we can, literally, change the world.
If every one of those people sends an email to the General Medical Council (www.gmc-uk.org), atttention of Fitness to Practise, and asks why there has been no investigation into the following doctors-whose incompetence crippled a patient and ruined her life in 2010-even though she complained, the council did nothing- and quote the doctors' names and medical license numbers, and also sends copies to the media, they will force the hands of the medical council and Barts Trust. When the spotlight of shame blasts onto Barts, it will also highlight all the other hospitals in this country, and will highlight incompetence and malpractice on a massive scale. The government will be forced to step in, really investigate (rather than cover up, which is their usual practice), and these people will never be able to treat unsuspecting patients this way. Why? Because the world will be watching. And something will have to be seen to be changed. And the people involved will never do this to anyone else again; they will never be able to hide behind the skirts of the hospitals and the NHS. And people will receive the compensation they deserve.
Philip Bright is now crippling people in Bristol; his license number is: 6103350
Sofia Grigoriadou is still at Barts and the London in London. Her number is: 4282352
Hilary Longhurst is still at Barts and the London. Her license number is: 2981570
If everyone demands a thorough investigation-rather than the whitewash from all guilty parties-we can truly make history.
Copies of the email to the GMC (www.gmc-uk.org) should go to the media: news@dailymail.co.uk - news.desk@express.co.uk - mirrornews@mirror.co.uk - Peter Horrocks@bbc.co.uk - news@channel4.com
If you include my limerabbit4justice@yahoo.co.uk, I can then track all the replies. If anyone who writes drops me an email to tell me, I can do the numbers, and I will either email back (or not, if the sender wants to remain anonymous) or post our continuing success on this blog.
The only way to change the world is to do it by people power. If everyone emails the GMC and demands to know why an investigation into this travesty has never been performed, and copies in all the media-well, one email from one person (me) can be ignored. 100-or 500- or many hundreds - nobody can ignore that. And, knowing the media in this country, they will be falling all over themselves to find out what is happening and get the story of the year (possibly the decade).
If we succeed beyone our wildest dreams-and we can, if everyone contributes, if everyone sees the chance to change laws in every country, not only this one! - the incompetent doctors in this country will be stopped, and the hospitals that encourage them can lose all their government funding if they don't take reasonable action. And there is a knock-on effect: every victim of malpractice, incompetence, medical negligence and nauseating arrogance in every country (the U.S.A., all of Europe) will have justice. This practice of using a lethal drug like Gentamicin will stop, too-because Schering in New Jersey has been making this for fifty years, and its crippling effects are widely known by the medical establishment-but it is cheap, and drugs that do a better job are more expensive. We can stop that practice. We can. But we all need to step in and take action.
If we succeed, we have changed the world for the better, and we have made a path for people to force governments to change their laws-so we have helped people who are unable to help themselves.
If we fall flat-then we have given it our best shot. We are doing NOTHING illegal (I checked)-and what we are doing is moral and ethical, and that is more than we can say for a lot of the doctors out there.
And the best part for all of you who are jumping up and down and ready to make a difference: nobody knows who you are. Nobody - unless you tell someone! If anybody gets shot at, it will be me-and what the hell, I'm used to being in the firing line.
Let's put an end to this disgraceful injustice-injustice that is taking place in every country, not only in this one.
Let's change the world. Somebody has to-so it might as well be us!!!!!!!
It's two and a half years since the incompetent doctors at Barts ignored my wishes to have them stop gentamicin-and two and a half years since I have been crippled and my life has been destroyed. And I can honestly say that the small recovery has been very, very tough.
I know I make fun of the Brits-my theory is, if they can dish it out, they should be able to take it!! But one thing that I find amazing is the reluctance to stand up and fight for compensation when they have been the victims of medical negligence, incompetence, malpractice-and general arrogant stupidity. Most of them will complain, but few will fight. If they don't fight, this problem (and it is a big one) will carry on forever.
The law in this country states that, unless a victim of malpractice is seeing a doctor privately, the patient can only sue the hospital, not the doctors. So, inept doctors who make the most inexcusable mistakes are allowed to hide behind the hospitals and the NHS, and all that happens is these charlatans continue to cripple (and, in some cases, kill) innocent people. People can apply for Legal Aid-and I'm not sure how that operates, or even if the government is still providing it. No win, no fee is a fairly recent concept here-but cases of malpractice can carry on for five years, so I wonder how dedicated these lawyers are, if they know they are in for a very long haul.
The other alternative is to pay privately for legal assistance; this is hideously expensive as well as time-consuming-but it is the way I chose to take this case to court. And Barts can (and probably will) waste as much time as they can, knowing that, if they wait long enough, I will deplete my savings and have to quit.
Is this fair? No-but, once again, it is one of the cornerstones of life: life is unfair.
I made a formal complaint to the General Medical Council about six months after the whole disaster happened; I got someone to write it out for me, since I was unable to write anything myself. And I still haven't heard anything. No surprises there; they all look after each other, I think. And, by the way, the incidents of malpractice in this country are shocking. Unless people go public (and sometimes even that does no good), all these cases are hidden.
I remember reading an interview with the anthropologist Margaret Mead (I'm going back to childhood, so I'm not absolutely quoting this). She was asked if she really believed that small groups of people could change the world. She replied that they are the only ones who can.
I sat all night thinking about that-and I think that the laws must be changed, and that all the victims of negligence and malpractice should rightly receive justice-if not financially, then certainly morally. And I figured out a way to make sure this happens: it is called people power.
I am not the person to witter, twitter, tweet, facebook, or any of that stuff - but I can email. And I set up a special email account just for this online moral crusade to change laws and to make the culprits accountable. The address is: limerabbit4justice@yahoo.co.uk
If everyone who reads this blog sends all the information I am about to give you to ten people in their address list-or posts it online, on facebook or another social networking site-and those ten people involve ten more people...and so on...we can, literally, change the world.
If every one of those people sends an email to the General Medical Council (www.gmc-uk.org), atttention of Fitness to Practise, and asks why there has been no investigation into the following doctors-whose incompetence crippled a patient and ruined her life in 2010-even though she complained, the council did nothing- and quote the doctors' names and medical license numbers, and also sends copies to the media, they will force the hands of the medical council and Barts Trust. When the spotlight of shame blasts onto Barts, it will also highlight all the other hospitals in this country, and will highlight incompetence and malpractice on a massive scale. The government will be forced to step in, really investigate (rather than cover up, which is their usual practice), and these people will never be able to treat unsuspecting patients this way. Why? Because the world will be watching. And something will have to be seen to be changed. And the people involved will never do this to anyone else again; they will never be able to hide behind the skirts of the hospitals and the NHS. And people will receive the compensation they deserve.
Philip Bright is now crippling people in Bristol; his license number is: 6103350
Sofia Grigoriadou is still at Barts and the London in London. Her number is: 4282352
Hilary Longhurst is still at Barts and the London. Her license number is: 2981570
If everyone demands a thorough investigation-rather than the whitewash from all guilty parties-we can truly make history.
Copies of the email to the GMC (www.gmc-uk.org) should go to the media: news@dailymail.co.uk - news.desk@express.co.uk - mirrornews@mirror.co.uk - Peter Horrocks@bbc.co.uk - news@channel4.com
If you include my limerabbit4justice@yahoo.co.uk, I can then track all the replies. If anyone who writes drops me an email to tell me, I can do the numbers, and I will either email back (or not, if the sender wants to remain anonymous) or post our continuing success on this blog.
The only way to change the world is to do it by people power. If everyone emails the GMC and demands to know why an investigation into this travesty has never been performed, and copies in all the media-well, one email from one person (me) can be ignored. 100-or 500- or many hundreds - nobody can ignore that. And, knowing the media in this country, they will be falling all over themselves to find out what is happening and get the story of the year (possibly the decade).
If we succeed beyone our wildest dreams-and we can, if everyone contributes, if everyone sees the chance to change laws in every country, not only this one! - the incompetent doctors in this country will be stopped, and the hospitals that encourage them can lose all their government funding if they don't take reasonable action. And there is a knock-on effect: every victim of malpractice, incompetence, medical negligence and nauseating arrogance in every country (the U.S.A., all of Europe) will have justice. This practice of using a lethal drug like Gentamicin will stop, too-because Schering in New Jersey has been making this for fifty years, and its crippling effects are widely known by the medical establishment-but it is cheap, and drugs that do a better job are more expensive. We can stop that practice. We can. But we all need to step in and take action.
If we succeed, we have changed the world for the better, and we have made a path for people to force governments to change their laws-so we have helped people who are unable to help themselves.
If we fall flat-then we have given it our best shot. We are doing NOTHING illegal (I checked)-and what we are doing is moral and ethical, and that is more than we can say for a lot of the doctors out there.
And the best part for all of you who are jumping up and down and ready to make a difference: nobody knows who you are. Nobody - unless you tell someone! If anybody gets shot at, it will be me-and what the hell, I'm used to being in the firing line.
Let's put an end to this disgraceful injustice-injustice that is taking place in every country, not only in this one.
Let's change the world. Somebody has to-so it might as well be us!!!!!!!
Thursday, 10 January 2013
Inquiring minds need to know this
Yesterday, the London Underground officially turned 150 years old-well, happy birthday to the Underground. If you are an anorak (like I am), you will, of course, want to know where the first line started and where it finished.
The first route began at Paddington Station and ended at Farringdon (I haven't worked out the mileage yet. Watch this space-that is, of course, if I can be bothered). I understand that it was extremely dirty, smelly, overcrowded-and, naturally, late. Isn't it heartwarming to know that, after one hundred and fifty years, nothing has changed!!! Dirty, smelly, overcrowded, always late...that is our underground system. Oh, well-at least, we can count on its unreliability!! And we get all across London, even if it costs a fortune to get there. Hey, it could be worse: we could have to walk it. So, happy 150th birthday, and I hope someone sorts it all out before the underground turns-well, shall we say, 200?
Yesterday I was summoned to the hospital for an ultrasound. Nobody could explain why I really needed an ultrasound; they just wanted me to trek to the hospital to have one. Unfortunately, nobody has yet come up with the ultrasound goo that doubles as a moisturizer, or an anti-wrinkle cream! I did mention it to the technician who was administering the test-at least he smiled, although he did look at me as if I was a little strange.
Really-that would take multi-tasking to a new level: you wouldn't need to spend ten minutes wiping off the gel, only to have to go home and throw all your clothes into the washing machine. Just rub in the gel, knowing that your wrinkles will dissolve! It seems like a good idea anyway.
Was anything wrong? Of course not. At least I know that I have a lot of organs that function perfectly. That is something that the two idiots didn't destroy two years ago. And-speaking of idiots- Phil not-so-Bright is busy crippling his patients at Southmead Hospital in Bristol. Jess, the nurse who told me that Nurse Ratched walked in front of a bus, emailed me to tell me. So, if anyone knows anyone in the Bath/Bristol area, please warn them!!
Naturally, if you have someone you really despise (the mother-in-law? The noisy neighbor from Hell? The neighborhood psychopath? Whoever...), this information will come in very handy indeed.
(I nearly forgot: this is a new year, so I don't hate anyone...well, January is only ten days old, so I can have an oops! day, can't I?)
I actually turned my head quickly and didn't fall over-which might not seem a big deal to anyone else, but it is a VERY big deal to me-not to mention to all the black and blue marks that seem to be permanent parts of my anatomy!! I just have to keep doing everything that makes me dizzy and fall over - until I stop getting dizzy and falling over.
Perhaps I need more padding. That's either an excuse to do some redecorating-or to eat. Hmmmmm....
The first route began at Paddington Station and ended at Farringdon (I haven't worked out the mileage yet. Watch this space-that is, of course, if I can be bothered). I understand that it was extremely dirty, smelly, overcrowded-and, naturally, late. Isn't it heartwarming to know that, after one hundred and fifty years, nothing has changed!!! Dirty, smelly, overcrowded, always late...that is our underground system. Oh, well-at least, we can count on its unreliability!! And we get all across London, even if it costs a fortune to get there. Hey, it could be worse: we could have to walk it. So, happy 150th birthday, and I hope someone sorts it all out before the underground turns-well, shall we say, 200?
Yesterday I was summoned to the hospital for an ultrasound. Nobody could explain why I really needed an ultrasound; they just wanted me to trek to the hospital to have one. Unfortunately, nobody has yet come up with the ultrasound goo that doubles as a moisturizer, or an anti-wrinkle cream! I did mention it to the technician who was administering the test-at least he smiled, although he did look at me as if I was a little strange.
Really-that would take multi-tasking to a new level: you wouldn't need to spend ten minutes wiping off the gel, only to have to go home and throw all your clothes into the washing machine. Just rub in the gel, knowing that your wrinkles will dissolve! It seems like a good idea anyway.
Was anything wrong? Of course not. At least I know that I have a lot of organs that function perfectly. That is something that the two idiots didn't destroy two years ago. And-speaking of idiots- Phil not-so-Bright is busy crippling his patients at Southmead Hospital in Bristol. Jess, the nurse who told me that Nurse Ratched walked in front of a bus, emailed me to tell me. So, if anyone knows anyone in the Bath/Bristol area, please warn them!!
Naturally, if you have someone you really despise (the mother-in-law? The noisy neighbor from Hell? The neighborhood psychopath? Whoever...), this information will come in very handy indeed.
(I nearly forgot: this is a new year, so I don't hate anyone...well, January is only ten days old, so I can have an oops! day, can't I?)
I actually turned my head quickly and didn't fall over-which might not seem a big deal to anyone else, but it is a VERY big deal to me-not to mention to all the black and blue marks that seem to be permanent parts of my anatomy!! I just have to keep doing everything that makes me dizzy and fall over - until I stop getting dizzy and falling over.
Perhaps I need more padding. That's either an excuse to do some redecorating-or to eat. Hmmmmm....
Tuesday, 8 January 2013
Two steps forward, ten steps back
I'm amazed that I haven't been on this blog since Thursday...but I have had a bit of a setback: flu, the kind that keeps coming back and doesn't want to leave. What a pain!!!
I haven't done much since last week. I haven't even gone to the gym, and that isn't a good thing. All the rain has taken its toll on my balance system (what there is of it, that is), as well as my eyesight. A year ago-even six months ago-that would have caused a great deal of anxiety. Now I understand that it is only a temporary setback - but it is still very annoying!! Even as I write, I can feel my brain getting really lazy about building those neural pathways that I really, really need in order to get that crucial 80%.
While I was stuck in bed with the usual nasty flu symptoms, I thought about that 80% - and I thought, why not shoot for 100%? I might not get there; I might get to 80 or 90 percent-but shoot for 100 and see what happens. At least I will have done my homework, my exercises, some very hard work-I will have done my best. And, as Dr. Dimples advised me the last time I saw him, don't think about time-how long it has been, how little I've got back in two and a half years, how long it will take, how far I have to go. Just do it.
One thing I aspire to do is get online from home. I still have difficulty with my laptop, since it is so tiny and the print is so small. I do increase the font-but that doesn't help much. So I have been avoiding it. That is another goal: use the laptop, get my brain accustomed to seeing small print on a small screen...every time I challenge my brain, I force it to create new pathways so I can achieve what I want, not what I don't want.
I went to my local supermarket this morning, and this young guy started to chat me up. I thought that was so hilarious!! I have seen him there before, so I exchanged pleasantries, figuring that I was in the store, so it was all quite innocent. Who picks up someone in a supermarket, anyway?
Then he asked me how old I am-and I looked at him. Excuse me? I smiled and said that I am the same age as the London Underground, and I left the store, with him standing there, very confused. For those of you who are outside the UK-and those of you who live here but are comatose-the London Underground is 150 years old. I swear, I laughed all the way home. In fact, I laughed so hard, I nearly fell over.
Now there is a line for you: if someone has the nerve to ask your age (unless it's a doctor or the police), just smile sweetly and tell them that you are the same age as the London Underground-then saunter (do not run, they will probably stand there and try to figure it out) to the exit.
My tip of the day for saying it's none of anybody's business-without saying it's none of anybody's business!!
I haven't done much since last week. I haven't even gone to the gym, and that isn't a good thing. All the rain has taken its toll on my balance system (what there is of it, that is), as well as my eyesight. A year ago-even six months ago-that would have caused a great deal of anxiety. Now I understand that it is only a temporary setback - but it is still very annoying!! Even as I write, I can feel my brain getting really lazy about building those neural pathways that I really, really need in order to get that crucial 80%.
While I was stuck in bed with the usual nasty flu symptoms, I thought about that 80% - and I thought, why not shoot for 100%? I might not get there; I might get to 80 or 90 percent-but shoot for 100 and see what happens. At least I will have done my homework, my exercises, some very hard work-I will have done my best. And, as Dr. Dimples advised me the last time I saw him, don't think about time-how long it has been, how little I've got back in two and a half years, how long it will take, how far I have to go. Just do it.
One thing I aspire to do is get online from home. I still have difficulty with my laptop, since it is so tiny and the print is so small. I do increase the font-but that doesn't help much. So I have been avoiding it. That is another goal: use the laptop, get my brain accustomed to seeing small print on a small screen...every time I challenge my brain, I force it to create new pathways so I can achieve what I want, not what I don't want.
I went to my local supermarket this morning, and this young guy started to chat me up. I thought that was so hilarious!! I have seen him there before, so I exchanged pleasantries, figuring that I was in the store, so it was all quite innocent. Who picks up someone in a supermarket, anyway?
Then he asked me how old I am-and I looked at him. Excuse me? I smiled and said that I am the same age as the London Underground, and I left the store, with him standing there, very confused. For those of you who are outside the UK-and those of you who live here but are comatose-the London Underground is 150 years old. I swear, I laughed all the way home. In fact, I laughed so hard, I nearly fell over.
Now there is a line for you: if someone has the nerve to ask your age (unless it's a doctor or the police), just smile sweetly and tell them that you are the same age as the London Underground-then saunter (do not run, they will probably stand there and try to figure it out) to the exit.
My tip of the day for saying it's none of anybody's business-without saying it's none of anybody's business!!
Thursday, 3 January 2013
If it's Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday...guess what!!
Aww, you guessed: it rained. All December it rained, and we began the new year-and it rained!!
You will laugh at this- I mean, you will really laugh! I've had so many horrendous years in a row (ten, in fact), I decided that I would end 2012 and begin a new era with some champagne - expensive champagne. No point in celebrating with the cheap stuff.
Now-by "cheap stuff", I mean you get what you pay for, and you end up asking if it's champagne or dishwater...and by expensive stuff, I mean: "Oh, my God, HOW much did you spend???". Good job I'm divorced: if I want to have a blowout on New Year's Eve, I can do what I want.
I had three glasses of champagne. That's all: three glasses. And I was stumbling all over the place afterwards-but I've been stumbling a lot because of the rain anyway, so who would know the difference? And I didn't follow the cardinal rule of drinking: always have as much water as you can before you go to bed. Nope-a good piece of advice that I ignored. Well, I don't drink very much, and I don't drink very often, and I can usually have three glasses of good champagne and not feel any aftereffects.
I woke up at 4:30 on New Year's Day-and I had to go drink a few glasses of water, because I had the worst headache I have had in years. I also had a very dodgy stomach. So-I had to laugh, because I clearly had a hangover. I drank three glasses of champagne and had a hangover. Who has a hangover from three glasses of champagne? Well, obviously, I do-because I did. And it was nasty.
I took some headache pills, went back to bed, got up at 6am. With a hangover. And I couldn't stop laughing-which didn't help my head any. I would be a very cheap date: two or three drinks and I'm not under the table, I'm under the floor.
I wanted to share this with anyone who woke on Tuesday with a thumping hangover, because I hurt in sympathy. By 11am I felt fine-just a bit queasy.
I did say that I intend to start 2013 with a different mindset. I started it off with a bang-or a thump, depending on how you look at it. And-it was raining (no surprises there), so I got my umbrella, layered up and went for a long walk. Long, of course, is a relative term. I walked for about 35 minutes, and decided that I was both cold enough and wet enough, and I went home. And did laundry. And cleaned the kitchen.
Isn't that what holidays are for?
One active - or proactive - decision that I made last year (on Monday) was that I didn't need to feel defeat or resignation at the things that have happened-and that I can't change. I needed to flick a mind switch and change my attitude-or I would suffer endlessly, and the other people involved wouldn't give a damn.
What could I do about that deranged cockroach (that's a nasty description, but apt, and it makes me feel better, so I'm keeping it!) upstairs? I couldn't beat him (shit splatters), or kill him (not worth a prison sentence), and hoping he will move or die soon is more than a little bit negative. Nobody will help-but the council isn't exactly useful when it comes to crazed neighbors, since they put him there in the first place.
So-yesterday I ordered 3M foam earplugs. I've had them every time I've had an MRI, and they really do cut the noise. So I should get them this week at some point. One of the nurses said she uses silicone earplugs because she works nights-and she said they are great. Well-I tried them. Now, if you have ears like Will Smith or Prince Charles, silicone earplugs might be okay. But they don't work for me, because they fall out. Immediately. Very annoying. How can I keep them in my ears unless I use duct tape? Can you imagine having to call the paramedics because I've taped silicone earplugs into my ears with duct tape and the stuff got stuck? Now, THAT would be hilarious. I giggle just thinking about it-and I'm in an internet cafe, because my eyesight still isn't good enough for me to use my little laptop at home. I need to use a big screen.
I also bought a white noise machine, so I'm armed (and dangerous. Mostly, I'm dangerous). This thing is called a Marsona, and it fits on the bedside table, and you switch it on and it provides four programs: thunderstorms, a gurgling stream, crickets at night, and white noise. I decided that having water running at night isn't such a good idea-particularly if you drink a few glasses of water before bedtime. Running water causes-well, unless you have a bladder the size of a camel's, you can spend most of the night in the bathroom. I know this from experience!!
I've used the white noise for a few nights, and put the volume up to cover the noise of hammering and loud music-and I can truthfully say that white noise keeps me awake!!! But-I will persevere, and, hopefully, I will be able to sleep through one entire night without a problem. That will be a first.
It's a new year-and, for me, it's also a new decade-and nobody ever said that change is easy. I'm having to accept what has been done, and also accept the fact that it might take me a total of three years to get that all-important 80% of my balance and visual acuity back. I could get more - perhaps - but I need to work hard and stop worrying about how long it is taking and what percentage I've got back.
Yes, perhaps there will be other lives in the offing-perhaps there is such a thing as reincarnation-and, really, who cares?? I only know this life, and this life, as far as I know, is the only life-so I intend to make the best of it. It's taken long enough!!!
I'm off to have some orange juice-without champagne, so it's Buck's Fizz without the fizz. What the heck? We only live once, so we should enjoy every minute of it (except ironing. And cleaning floors. But we can enjoy the rest of it).
You will laugh at this- I mean, you will really laugh! I've had so many horrendous years in a row (ten, in fact), I decided that I would end 2012 and begin a new era with some champagne - expensive champagne. No point in celebrating with the cheap stuff.
Now-by "cheap stuff", I mean you get what you pay for, and you end up asking if it's champagne or dishwater...and by expensive stuff, I mean: "Oh, my God, HOW much did you spend???". Good job I'm divorced: if I want to have a blowout on New Year's Eve, I can do what I want.
I had three glasses of champagne. That's all: three glasses. And I was stumbling all over the place afterwards-but I've been stumbling a lot because of the rain anyway, so who would know the difference? And I didn't follow the cardinal rule of drinking: always have as much water as you can before you go to bed. Nope-a good piece of advice that I ignored. Well, I don't drink very much, and I don't drink very often, and I can usually have three glasses of good champagne and not feel any aftereffects.
I woke up at 4:30 on New Year's Day-and I had to go drink a few glasses of water, because I had the worst headache I have had in years. I also had a very dodgy stomach. So-I had to laugh, because I clearly had a hangover. I drank three glasses of champagne and had a hangover. Who has a hangover from three glasses of champagne? Well, obviously, I do-because I did. And it was nasty.
I took some headache pills, went back to bed, got up at 6am. With a hangover. And I couldn't stop laughing-which didn't help my head any. I would be a very cheap date: two or three drinks and I'm not under the table, I'm under the floor.
I wanted to share this with anyone who woke on Tuesday with a thumping hangover, because I hurt in sympathy. By 11am I felt fine-just a bit queasy.
I did say that I intend to start 2013 with a different mindset. I started it off with a bang-or a thump, depending on how you look at it. And-it was raining (no surprises there), so I got my umbrella, layered up and went for a long walk. Long, of course, is a relative term. I walked for about 35 minutes, and decided that I was both cold enough and wet enough, and I went home. And did laundry. And cleaned the kitchen.
Isn't that what holidays are for?
One active - or proactive - decision that I made last year (on Monday) was that I didn't need to feel defeat or resignation at the things that have happened-and that I can't change. I needed to flick a mind switch and change my attitude-or I would suffer endlessly, and the other people involved wouldn't give a damn.
What could I do about that deranged cockroach (that's a nasty description, but apt, and it makes me feel better, so I'm keeping it!) upstairs? I couldn't beat him (shit splatters), or kill him (not worth a prison sentence), and hoping he will move or die soon is more than a little bit negative. Nobody will help-but the council isn't exactly useful when it comes to crazed neighbors, since they put him there in the first place.
So-yesterday I ordered 3M foam earplugs. I've had them every time I've had an MRI, and they really do cut the noise. So I should get them this week at some point. One of the nurses said she uses silicone earplugs because she works nights-and she said they are great. Well-I tried them. Now, if you have ears like Will Smith or Prince Charles, silicone earplugs might be okay. But they don't work for me, because they fall out. Immediately. Very annoying. How can I keep them in my ears unless I use duct tape? Can you imagine having to call the paramedics because I've taped silicone earplugs into my ears with duct tape and the stuff got stuck? Now, THAT would be hilarious. I giggle just thinking about it-and I'm in an internet cafe, because my eyesight still isn't good enough for me to use my little laptop at home. I need to use a big screen.
I also bought a white noise machine, so I'm armed (and dangerous. Mostly, I'm dangerous). This thing is called a Marsona, and it fits on the bedside table, and you switch it on and it provides four programs: thunderstorms, a gurgling stream, crickets at night, and white noise. I decided that having water running at night isn't such a good idea-particularly if you drink a few glasses of water before bedtime. Running water causes-well, unless you have a bladder the size of a camel's, you can spend most of the night in the bathroom. I know this from experience!!
I've used the white noise for a few nights, and put the volume up to cover the noise of hammering and loud music-and I can truthfully say that white noise keeps me awake!!! But-I will persevere, and, hopefully, I will be able to sleep through one entire night without a problem. That will be a first.
It's a new year-and, for me, it's also a new decade-and nobody ever said that change is easy. I'm having to accept what has been done, and also accept the fact that it might take me a total of three years to get that all-important 80% of my balance and visual acuity back. I could get more - perhaps - but I need to work hard and stop worrying about how long it is taking and what percentage I've got back.
Yes, perhaps there will be other lives in the offing-perhaps there is such a thing as reincarnation-and, really, who cares?? I only know this life, and this life, as far as I know, is the only life-so I intend to make the best of it. It's taken long enough!!!
I'm off to have some orange juice-without champagne, so it's Buck's Fizz without the fizz. What the heck? We only live once, so we should enjoy every minute of it (except ironing. And cleaning floors. But we can enjoy the rest of it).
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