Bike chick? Moi?

I forgot to add that I found four pairs of leather trousers and two leather jackets. How funny!! In small sizes, too-eek!! When did I wear those? Actually, I do remember-but it does go back awhile.

I even found the dress I wore to my senior prom. Oh, for God's sake!! It is definitely time to be ruthless and get rid of stuff. Perhaps a flamethrower is needed. Or a small grenade.

All I know is, somebody somewhere will be grateful for all those woks!

Life is difficult, and then you die. Bummer!!

Scott Peck began his best-selling book with those words-and a few years later, he keeled over from cancer. What an unpleasant way to go. I would like to amend those words (I should have been an editor): Life is difficult, and then you die, you can't take it with you, and doesn't that just suck!!

Really. If I can't take it with me, I'm not going. And if I am forced to go (as we all are, at some point), I will be kicking and screaming, and I will make an almighty fuss. Honestly? I'm not ready to pop my clogs and probably will never be ready. I've wasted too much time already, and I've got a lot of things to do before I stop being a pain in the butt to everyone.

I did absolutely nothing yesterday, in spite of my really good intentions. It rained all day, and it rained so hard, I thought I would have to take a course in ark-building. It was less like rain and more like a monsoon! So I decided to skip the walking, since I don't own a snorkel and flippers, and stay inside and read. Why go out in heavy rain if you don't need to go anywhere? That was my excuse, and I am sticking to it: I saw no point in getting soaked to the skin just to make a point, and develop incipient pneumonia in the process.

Today we were graced with that big yellow ball in the sky: the sun shone, it has been lovely (so far), and it is due to rain again tomorrow - and the rest of the week. No wonder the Brits are such a grumpy lot: they're grey, like the weather-and they do use the weather as an excuse!!

No storage unit today-I have to take a few days to actually put away the things I got out of storage so far. The upside is that I found some nice clothes that the mice didn't pee on-that was a good thing. Believe me, if I see a mouse I will have to hit it with something. First I scream, then I hit. Let them pee all over someone else's clothes. That is incentive to get everything out of there as soon as I can. Plus, I've got some of my ex's stuff - I'm thinking of having a bonfire-complete with marshmallows. Well-could be worse. Could be rats.

Life really is difficult. And all the self-help gurus and all the self-help books and courses, all the people who get very rich from other people's insecurities, can't change that fact: life is difficult, you struggle, things are good, then not so good, it's all swings and roudabouts, and then you keel over. All the self-help experts say the same thing, but in different (sometimes) words. And they make fortunes.

Really, it all boils down to the fact that we need to accept that things happened that we can't change, and that we did the best we could with the information we had at the time, and so did everyone else in our lives. I honestly think that nobody escapes life, and that nobody has ever had an easy life 100% of the time. And if you have had an easy life 100% of the time, I would love to swap places with you for two or three days, just to experience what an easy life is like-I don't know about you, but mine has been filled with drama and melodrama. Any takers to swap places for a few days? I would stake my reputation (such as it is) on the fact that nobody would come forward, even if it was possible.

The point of this rumination exercise? I agree with the (very rich) self-help guys that we need to forgive everyone, regardless of what they did - and forgive ourselves first. Then we need to look hard and find out what we want to do with our lives-what our goals are-and work hard toward fulfilling those goals and ambitions, and not allow anyone to derail us, or anything to stand in our way. Like Nike says: just do it. Nobody lives forever, and who wants to look back and say "why didn't I do that? Why didn't I go for it?" Hey, we just never know when we are going to keel over, so why not live fully while we still have the opportunity? Yeah, I know it's easier said than done-but so is everything.

That will be ten pounds, please.

Crashed and burned: down, but not out. Never out!

It's been raining-of course. It's rained all week. On Wednesday, I just couldn't face going out and sloshing about in the rain, and fighting off the usual idiots-but idiots with golf umbrellas this time. Who needs golf umbrellas in central London? Only people who don't think twice about assaulting all the people around them!!

So, I stayed in on Wednesday and caught up with all the television shows I've taped all week-just in case I felt like being horrendously lazy. And-I did nothing all Wednesday-but, boy, did I ever feel guilty about it!

I've got a storage unit filled with all my stuff: years and years of all kinds of things-my life in a 15' x 25' room. It would have been emptied two years ago, if not for the gentamicin. But now, I seem to have progressed enough to go and have a good look around-preferably without falling on my nose.

I forced myself to take a trip to rummage around the storage unit on Thursday - anything to make myself feel a bit better, and to get myself out of the house and moving around. No moving, no improvement. That is the way it is. So I trudged through pouring rain and got there at 9am. Was I in for a shock, or what!

I have to say, I was gobsmacked. Really, my gob was completely smacked. Apart from finding papers from 2005 (and earlier), there was so much stuff I don't need - or want. But-2005? Really!! I did say I procrastinate terribly, and the terrible (and expensive) cost of procrastinating and hoarding really hit me hard. I started rummaging through boxes that haven't been opened in some considerable time, and I found evidence of mice. The little buggers not only crapped all over, they peed all over everything-everything expensive...no ruining cheap clothes for them, when they can destroy all the good stuff.

Now, I like Mickey and Minnie as much as the next person, but I was livid, and the storage people are moving stuff out so they can put poison down. No more sympathy for mice, I say - although I do draw the line at glue traps, which I think are disgusting and inhumane. I get upset at any animal suffering-even mice (although cockroaches are so revolting, who cares?).

So, that was my Thursday, and it got me ruminating all the way home (no big surprise there). I found photographs of my past, and I brought them with me; I couldn't bear throwing them out. I found my dogs' leads-and, yes, I could give them away, but I'm saving them-just in case I have another dog. I'm just a big softie when it comes to dogs. What else can I say?

I hit the wall on Wednesday, and I was pretty down all day-but I really forced myself to get up and get out and do something constructive on Thursday, so I was pleased that I accomplished something constructive. I crashed and burned, but I came back; I won't ever let myself get as down and depressed as I was for the entire first year post-gentamicin.

We're up to 89 weeks now, and I have come a long way, although I have a very long way to go, and I am not certain of the outcome. I don't have anywhere near that longed-for 80% (plus), but I have to just keep working-without becoming obsessive about it. Some kind of balance is what is needed. In fact-action is what is needed!!

I also need to be uncharacteristically ruthless when it comes to throwing out what is unnecessary (who needs papers from a decade ago? And who needs 6 woks?), or giving stuff away that someone else can use (like the woks!. And, as for clothes, I can open a clothing shop. I won't need any outfits for years-because some of the nice stuff was missed by the little rodents - let them pee somewhere else. Pee-or return and die!!

I've been Skyped!

On Friday, I had inspectors come around: one checked the fire and smoke alarms, and the other performed the annual gas check-just to make sure that nobody would blow up the building, presumably.

I decided that it was way past time to set up my new computer-especially since the old one unceremoniously expired last week, after 11 years of faithful service. So I rang my service provider and got a tech support worker who was not, I have to say, the most patient of people!!

I was very pleased with myself, because I had to carry my laptop from the bedroom into the front room in order to connect it to the router. I also had to locate an ethernet cable-and, lucky for me, I found one quickly. If you saw the tip that is my flat, you would say I was very lucky!! In fact, I carried the laptop without dropping it, or crashing into any furniture, and I was able to set the whole thing up (with the guidance of the tech lady) in an embarrassingly long period of time!! She was losing her patience - until I told her that I am visually impaired, and that it is difficult for me to see what I am doing. Funny-her attitude changed then, and she took over the computer from wherever she was and completed the process.

So-I decided to install Skype. I've got Skype - and doesn't it sound like I've got some kind of awful social disease!! It's like saying I've got some strange medical condition, or some STD - who ever thought of that name?? But-now I have Skype, and I can get in touch with my friend and my cousin, who is dodging bullets in the middle east. The downside of Skype is, of course, that my new little machine has a built in camera, so now I have to wear makeup, and brush my hair, and be dressed!! No more computing when starkers!!

While I was at it, I also went onto Facebook and Google +. I have both accounts, but I haven't been on either one in so long that my contacts probably think I've died!! So, I have now been Skyped, and Facebooked, and Googled...welcome to the 21st century, and how about finally having a life, after two years of fighting to regain something resembling health!!

What amazed me wasn't the indecent amount of time it took to set up the new laptop-or even the fact that I decided to finally come out of hibernation and go onto Facebook and Google +. I was amazed that I was able to carry something from one room to the next without either dropping it or crashing into something. I wasn't terribly dizzy, either-although my eyes refused to focus, and I could feel nystagmus in action. I could never have done that before. I still spill my tea and coffee when I take them from the kitchen into the front room-but I don't drop the mugs anymore. So there is improvement. I'm so close to it all that I don't usually notice. After 88 weeks, it's time to notice!!

I have good days and I have not-so-good days. It rained intermittently over the last few days, and the cold and wet weather really affected me badly. I was falling all over the place, and I was staggering every time I forced myself to get out and walk. I walked in the rain, which was probably not a good thing to do-but I did it anyway.

I realize that I am not only the queen of rumination; I am also the empress of procrastination!! Truly-at work I was so organized, but at home-why do something today when you can put it off for three weeks (or months)? I'm starting to work on those counterproductive habits, too - because if I don't do something, there is nobody who will do it for me. I'm not sure if I am finally accepting that my life will probably never be the same-or if I am in a permanent state of depression and denial!! I like to think that it's the former, rather than the latter!

Just when I thought it was safe...

I've been doing the hospital run this week-as usual. Once May comes around, I will have only a few appointments-and I will be so free, I won't know what to do with myself!! I'll be able to start living-finally.

I had a tough week-and not just because of all the hospital appointments! The weather turned cold and rainy- well, this is Britain, after all, and one just becomes accustomed to changes in the weather (sometimes hourly). It really affected my balance, as well as my vision. I kept having dizzy spells, I couldn't see well enough to read, much less use the computer...it was very disheartening. And-I got through it.

I walked in the rain-and I got wet, but I figured that I had to challenge myself by doing the things that make my balance and vision worse. That is the only way I will get any better: rise to the challenge, no matter how frustrating it is, and just get on with it. They'll put that on my tombstone one day:just get on with it!!

My GP, Margaret, has taken three months off to travel-and just to take a break from medicine, she told me before she left. So I went to see the doctor who is "minding" me while she is away. I've seen him around the surgery, and he always looks rumpled, as if he just rolled out of bed and came into the office. It's really funny-and he is very thorough and very good. It seems I have managed to tear the cartilage and ligaments in one knee - all the falling over and landing knees first - and it also seems that I have managed to dislodge one of the bolts holding my other knee together (I mangled myself in an accident ten years ago). So I might have to have double knee surgery. Oh, joy: more hospitals, more surgery, more people bleeding me. Ick.

We were discussing this, and David told me that Homes for Haringey (remember them?) tried to contact Margaret to tell her they were "afraid for my mental health". That's Toilet and Philippou again: they just won't quit. Well, Margaret isn't there, so David laid into them and told them that there is nothing mentally wrong with me, and that he is aware of the situation, and that perhaps they should go for some treatment themselves, since they obviously need it more than I do. Hooray for David!!! Someone else is in my corner. And so much for the halfwits at Homes for Haringey. David suggested that I take the high road, do and say nothing, and just concentrate on getting my balance back. He also said that other patients have complained about Philippou, so I'm not the only one, although I was the only one to complain in writing, so therefore I stuck my head above the parapet, knowing that I would be in for a ton of abuse. There we are: vindicated.

Now I have more work to do, and not just the exercises that are designed to cause more dizziness. I also need to strengthen my muscles in case I do need knee (or, knees) surgery. I spent more than a year barely vertical-and when I was upright, I spent a lot of time falling over. So all my muscles have gone south. I've got biceps like a budgie's kneecaps. OH, yes, talk about kneecaps!!

I've given myself the goal of being off the walking stick and having at least 80% of balance and vision back-by the end of July, which will be just about two years since the whole gentamicin debacle. And-my other goal is to be able to take a trip to New York and Florida in the autumn, so I can see everyone and have a long needed vacation - needed, and, in my opinion, deserved. Am I able to fly with no vestibular mechanism? Well, I don't know, but I will find out!

Meanwhile, I am keeping my head down and staying out of everyone's way. It's hard to hit a moving target.

Keep death on the roads, that's what I say!

I've been cleared to drive. That's right: I can drive, but only under certain conditions: the weather has to be clear, not wet or too sunny, I can only go short distances, and I must start by driving when and where there isn't too much traffic.

The object is to help me get my confidence back-so I need to practice, just as if I was driving for the very first time. I've had to break those rules a few times: I had to move the car when I moved flats, and I also had to move the car after it was vandalized. I'm amazed - to this day - that nobody caught me getting into my car through the hatch, struggling to get to the front door to open it so I could drive to the garage to have new locks fitted. There I was, backside in the air, climbing over all the seats-what a Kodak moment!!

I'm not saying that my physiotherapist didn't have much faith in me-but she did ask me to let her know in advance when I would be driving so that she could be out of the area!!

Yesterday morning seemed like as good a time as any to begin this next little chapter. I know that I was cleared to drive a couple of months ago, but I didn't really feel ready. I'm still not certain-but I'm going to have a go anyway. So, off I went, up the road, around the roundabout (I can honestly say that roundabouts are tricky for a lot of drivers who don't seem to be visually impaired-just completely hopeless at driving). My roundabout has buses in the middle - they pull in to change drivers, or to have a break, or whatever the reason is-and there they are, never when you really need them.

I went around the roundabout without any problems-of course, it was 7:00 am, and Sunday, so there wasn't a lot of traffic! Traffic would have made things a bit trickier, because I might have been distracted. I zipped around the corner, drove for a mile or so to a large Tesco's, then turned around and came back again. I have to say that I was most proud of myself- I didn't hit any parked cars, I didn't hit any animals or people-I really would have been upset if I'd hit anyone, especially animals or children. Adults can sprint out of the way-and, failing that, they'll be fine once they are out of plaster, in about 6-8 weeks! But-I would hate to kill or cripple anyone. That would be really bad karma. And they wouldn't be too happy about it, either.

So, that was my first real driving experience in nearly two years. Of course, road trips of any distance are still not allowed, but if I keep going a mile or two, I will start to feel confident enough to have a go when there is traffic. I just need to remember not to hit anyone (you got it: bad karma).

I parked a few streets away from my home; I feel better about parking further away, because I feel safer. Parking near the house (since the vandalism) is like waving a red flag at a bull: it's asking for trouble, and, even though the trouble might never happen (especially since I made such a stink with Homes for Haringey), I am not willing to take any chances. My gut says park elsewhere-and when I don't listen to my gut, I always come unstuck. Always.

You will love this last part, which I just had to save for the end of the story. I then went into my local newsagents for the newspaper. I heard a rumble behind me, and it turned out to be a Ferrari. I don't see a lot of Ferraris, although there are several Porsches in the area-and Audis, and nice little sportscars. So, of course, I looked as the driver got out. I wish I hadn't looked at all: he was bald, ugly, loaded with bling (rings and necklaces up the wazoo, very vulgar and tacky. He even had three medallions on him-as if one wasn't enough). AND-he pushed past me as if I shouldn't have been in his way. What a jerk!!

To make matters worse: he bought a copy of The Sun. The SUN!!! I was gobsmacked. I wondered if he subscribed to the National Enquirer-both rags are about equal. Eeeek!!! That, and no manners, and all the bling-plus, he was dead ugly to boot. Yuch, what a total letdown!

He bought his tat and was really rude to the man behind the counter, who caught my eye and saw me roll my eyes. He was looking for a mirror-presumably so he could preen. Perhaps he thought the Ferrari made him a rockstar. Hardly-he was a perfect ringer for Gollum out of Lord of the Rings. I do mean, perfect ringer!!
He then turned and walked straight at me-again-but I was ready this time. I put my stick out at the last minute, and he nearly fell on his face (that would have improved his looks no end). He crashed into the door frame, and I couldn't help myself. I started to laugh, and as he glared at me, I said to the clerk "bad manners, ugly as sin, and so clumsy. What a lousy catch. Good thing he has a nice car". We both laughed as the idiot got into the Ferrari, gunned it (trying to make a point, perhaps?) and screamed away, nearly piling into another car in his haste to leave.

The Sun? The bling? I'll bet the car was stolen-either that or he's a drug dealer. And, as for the bling, I would be anyone a fiver that it is 9K electroplate. Really-what a tool!! I will never think of Ferrari drivers in the same way again. I probably will never think about Ferrari drivers, period. That's what I get for looking at the car and dreaming that the driver would be worth looking at, too. Oh, dear, some of the ugliest and dumbest and rudest men drive the nicest cars. I suppose they would never attract anyone any other way!!

I walk and walk and walk. I do my exercises religiously, because I want to get as much of my balance and visual acuity back as possible. And the last two years have been about sickness, not about enjoying life. So at the very least, I would like to be able to see (even for a fleeting moment) a man who floats my boat. Just one handsome man, just one!! Why not be able to look and go "oooh, that's nice!? Men do it at women; why can't women have that right when it comes to appreciating good looking men?

The answer: we can, but not in my area. They are so very ugly. So I stop and pet passing dogs instead. At least they're friendly. And- no bling!!!!

Road trip to Intercourse

I worked in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, for a couple of years, and I used to jump in the car and drive everywhere, just to see the countryside. I remember seeing a sign "Intercourse" - I have to admit, I laughed so hard, I nearly crashed the car. Intercourse? What about it? Was someone having some? Were they filming it? Was I being invited to join in? Really-I thought that either someone was joking, or someone was filming a porn video. Who knew? And who knew that there are a lot of places with funny (and suggestive) names like Intercourse? Personally, I thought it was a great idea: what a conversation stopper!!

I mention all this because there is also a town in Pennsylvania called Wawa. Yes, that's right: Wawa. And how do I know this? Have I been there? No-but there are shops all over Bucks County called Wawa. Of course, I just had to stop in, just to see what the big deal was (if there was a big deal); who would call a shop Wawa? Sounds like something to do with babies-either that, or it's just weird.

It turns out that Wawa makes coffee. The stores carry all kinds of things, much like the corner shops that exist here-but Wawa makes their own coffee brand. I tried the hazelnut, and I became a convert. I used to stop there at least once a day for a large cup of hazelnut coffee, and I was in heaven (so easily pleased, aren't I? LOL). Sadly, though, they don't export to the UK-or anywhere outside the U.S. I know; I called them and checked. So I will have to wait until I go back for a visit until I can satisfy my craving for Wawa hazelnut coffee!!

You might think this is all irrelevant somehow-but, no, it really is relevant, because it brings me neatly back to the subject of coffee!! I've done a taste test: Starbucks against everyone else in this town. I've tasted coffee in just about every coffee place in my area-and that's a lot of coffee in a lot of places, I can tell you!! This, of course, gives me the incentive to get walking, and I do a lot of that before I reward myself with a drink (a coffee drink, not an alcoholic drink, since I am dizzy enough already!!).

I can truthfully say that Starbucks comes in way ahead of everyone else. There is a reason the Brits are known for tea-and it's a good thing, because their coffee could easily double as paint stripper. When I visit someone, I always ask for tea if I am given the choice. I can't swear to it, but I think that some people use battery acid. Someone pass a law: the Brits stick to making tea, and the Americans stick to making coffee.
I haven't yet been able to rate some of the "coffee bars" low enough. Sorry, guys, but your coffee sucks.

When Starbucks first opened in the UK, my then-husband (English through and through, bless him) saw me jump up and down and punch the air in delight, and thought I'd completely lost my mind. No wonder he is my ex-husband!! No sense of humor.....

I haven't visited Intercourse (Pennsylvania, that is; take your minds out of the gutter!! :)-but I also haven't been to Pratt's Bottom in this country, either. I do really like unusual names of places, although I might get there and find them to be very ordinary.

So what? When I have that all-important 80% back, it will be time for a road trip!!

Oh-and apologies to the unnamed woman who posted an irate comment after my last post about weight. She said that she has weighed 14 stone (nearly 160 pounds) all her life, and that she is my height, and took offence at my calling her fat and saying that she must have a story behind it. My foot in my mouth again!!  140-160 is fat only FOR ME, and I was bullied at school (and at home) for it. I'm talking about 240 and above, or anyone who is clinically obese. Yikes!!

So can I take my foot out of my mouth now?

And one more thing!!

I don't feel sorry for myself because I had such a brutal childhood. Everything that happened made me stronger, and more independent. I had no choice but to have my own back!!

When someone tells me that things are impossible-I ask them to consider the fact that most things ARE possible. When you end up in deep doodoo, and nobody seems to be there to help you, you have to learn to help yourself. If I had given up - and so many times I wanted to give up, even before the "event" 86 weeks ago, I wouldn't be here now.

I refuse to quit, regardless of how awful life is at times, and how tempting it is to roll over and stick my legs in the air and give up. I might spend the rest of my life on my own, but at least I live with someone I trust. And I have a very good, close friend who follows this blog, and whom I trust implicitly, even though we are thousands of miles apart. I'm so lucky! Not everyone can say that. I'm like the Energizer bunny: I just keep going! I want to live to 100 and be a pain in the a** to the people in my family who are still alive.

The best revenge is a happy life.

to egg or not to egg: that is the question

I never go to the January sales. It's as if all the savages on earth congregate in one area, just to see what is available-and they fight over everything. This year, someone stabbed a young man to death-just for a pair of Nike trainers. Excuse me! I really like my Nikes, but not enough to kill someone for them!! I swear, the world has gone mad-or, perhaps, this country has gone insane. What was the killer thinking-apart from the fact that he wanted to buy the trainers, and God help anyone who stood in his way.

I also avoid the supermarkets immediately after Easter-for the same reason. People will fight to the death over Easter eggs that are on sale. Yesterday, I forgot my golden rule: if there is even the most remote possibility of a sale, I avoid the shop like the plague. But-I needed a pint of milk, so off I went. Who would ever stab someone over a pint of milk? Who knows? People never cease to amaze me!!

So-I went into my local supermarket, whose identity shall remain anonymous (sounds a lot like Tesco. That is because it was Tesco!!). And two enormously fat women practically knocked each other unconscious, just to get the last of the Cadbury eggs that were half price. You should have seen it!! It was a free-for-all between two - well, to be perfectly blunt, they looked like Sumo wrestler wannabes. Obese? They were in danger of being chased by Captain Ahab and his harpoon.

Now, in this country, 40% of the population are obese-and a large percentage of those are morbidly obese. They have the nerve in this country to criticize Americans for being fat-well, eeek!! The words "pot", "kettle" and "black" spring immediately to mind. There are as many fat people here as there are in the U.S. And I usually get one sitting next to me when I am brave enough to ride on public transport! I end up with one side of my body being taken out...imagine 50 pounds of fat sitting on your leg for half an hour. At the end of the journey, I am numb for hours.

I must add that I am not against fat people (I'm not "fattist") - and when I see the looks on other people's faces when they encounter a would-be Sumo, I cringe. I was fat when I was growing up. When I was 17 I weighed in at a hefty 140 pounds (10stone in UK language). For me, at 5'3" and a very small frame, I could have just as easily weighed 300 pounds-because I didn't walk. I waddled. And the fat served a purpose: it didn't hurt as much when they hit me. And, did they ever hit me!! My parents were highly educated, intelligent, upper-class professionals who should have known better. I'm sure they DID know better; they just didn't care. In fact, my brother used to delight in using me as a punching bag. I was little, so I was an easy target. I remember the first time he punched me in the face, breaking my nose, which ended up all over my face. There was a lot of blood, and he then pushed me down a flight of stairs, dislocating my shoulder. When my mother got home and saw all the blood, I told her what had happened. She asked him, and he said that I slipped and fell down the stairs. What did she do? She told me that I was fat and clumsy. And that was my usual experience of childhood. Until I was 17 and escaped to go away to university, I wished constantly that someone would adopt me-or, at least, get me out of there before one of them killed me. I say "one of them" because my father choked me until I was unconscious, and my mother once chased after me with a carving knife. It took the other two to get her off me. Some things you never forget.

I see a very fat person-and I wonder what their story is, and why they ended up the way they are. There is always something behind it-and I don't think it is always just gluttony.

How very strange is this!! It all started with two fat people beating each other up over a couple of Easter eggs-and suddenly I have taken a trip down Memory Lane. Sometimes I do that: something will trigger an old memory, and it is usually a memory I really prefer to forget.

I reminisced last night, and it occurred to me (and not for the first time) that nobody ever had my back. Nobody. I even married an emotionally abusive bully-he most certainly didn't have my back! In fact,when I left him, he behaved like he wanted to stick a knife in it. Lucky for me I could move faster than he could.

Thank goodness Easter only comes once a year!!

And another thing: invisibility is impossible

I got a comment from someone I haven't seen since the year they invented the wheel: I was in high school then (it really wasn't that long ago, it just feels like it was that long ago!!).

Apparently this bloke (who shall remain forever anonymous) discovered my blog from someone else who knew me way back when. You see? The internet makes it nearly impossible to remain invisible, to hide out, to retain any sense of anonymity.

This will make you laugh-and it most certainly is not a Mrs. Robinson moment, since he is a year older than I am. He wrote that he was "madly in love with me" when we were both 15, and he has thought about me many times over the years. He would like to get in touch. Eek-do I remember him? No. Will I write back? Er...no. I've reached the point where I need the past to remain in the past. I do keep in touch with friends who are important to me - but someone from the Jurassic Age? What is up with that? I did smile, though.  And I'm so glad I don't have Skype!!

My chocolate bunny is missing!

I haven't had the greatest Easter weekend. It turned cold and wet-and when the weather changes, my body becomes a barometer, and my balance (such as it is) goes out the window - as does my vision. Very unpleasant!! So I just hung out with it all, and tried to be philosophical, rather than angry and bitter (as I have been for the last 19 months). I walked in the rain, and nearly succeeded in doing my exercises (looking up and down while walking, looking left and right while walking) without falling over. I caught myself once-not bad, considering that last year at this time I couldn't manage even a few steps outside in the rain!!

On Easter sunday I looked for the Easter bunny - I figured that, after everything I have been through, he would at least show up, sit and look at me, lift his leg and give me a chocolate egg ( a chocolate egg-not a pile of something brown and smelly, lilke the employees of Haringey!!). Alas, no bunny in sight-and no chocolate egg. Oh, boo-at least I was able to get myself to the store last week (very prescient of me, I might add!) and buy myself a Lindt's chocolate bunny. Yum. I do like Lindt's chocolates-although I somehow don't feel right about biting off the poor thing's ear.

I didn't manage to get to the museum this last weekend; it was my intention to do so, but the weather was too big a challenge. I think I need to make small journeys before I do such a big one: baby steps. After 19 months, you would think I would be beyond the baby step stage-but I comfort myself by realizing that I just have to keep at it, one day at a time, and some days are easier than others!

I haven't done the windows yet; happily, the rain did them for me!! I can write off the last few days-I didn't accomplish any of the things I wanted to do, but I managed to adjust my attitude. I need to learn patience. Oh, but what a huge pain in the posterior that is!!

Yoda has bigger ears

I'm starting to think that people come into your life for a purpose-some lesson they have to teach you, or some lesson they have to learn from you-or, perhaps, both. People go in and out-and it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to stop them from going, or to be upset when they leave. Huh-am I getting old, or what?

I have spent the last two years dedicated to the subject of health: my health. I've been completely immersed in one illness or another, or one catastrophe or another-to the extent that I haven't had the time (or the inclination) to think about anything else. Two years ago (March, 2010) I first developed pseudomonas, and the treatments (oral antibiotics) didn't work, so I had to go into the hospital-and we all know what happened afterward!!! It seems like I have been doing the hospital/physio/consultant/bloodletter routine nearly every day. I haven't done any of the things I like to do- and I really do miss having a life!!

I mention the "reason, season, lifetime" cliche because it does seem to have some credence-somewhere.

I've been to see my family doctor (GP, if you are in this country!) quite often; every month I give her an update on everything that has been going on, get a reload of prescriptions, and have her check me out when I have another chest infection (and that has been rather too often for both of us!).

There is a coffee bar not far from the surgery, and I started going in there to fortify myself before my GP's appointment. The woman behind the counter (the only one there who makes coffee that doesn't taste like it could double as paint stripper) came up to me a few months ago, and asked me why I was on the tripod. You seem to be really athletic, she said at one point. I usually don't talk about the gentamicin thing to anyone-it's nobody's business-but I told her what happened. She looked me in the eye and told me that I am "a magician", and that she could tell this by my eyes (I would have made a joke about the fact that they don't focus too well, but I was smart enough to shut up. For once!). She told me that I could do anything I set my mind to do, and that I must work hard, but I will get most of my abilities back, if not all of them. Just watch and believe, she said. I promise you, you have a tremendous amount of power, she said. I know this could have been a come-on of some kind, but I thought about it later: it wasn't a come-on. She was very sincere, and very serious (she told me later that she is a psychic). Okay, stop laughing!!

I enjoyed going in there, and we would swap stories and jokes as I began to feel better. Leah was a great judge of how I was walking, and how I was getting better. She started calling me "Yoda", telling me how powerful I am - I started calling her "Princess Leah" - it was a joke, of course, and it was just really great to be able to share a joke and  a coffee without thinking about sickness, or infections, or balance -or lack of balance. I went in there the other day, only to be told that Leah had quit and gone back to Slovakia.

That, of course, made me think about people who came and went, and I started to ruminate (as usual) about what I have learned from all the people who showed up - and the ones who hurt me badly. I haven't figured out all the reasons for everyone-that will take some time- but I realize from Leah that I can get better, and that I need to lighten up and add some humour into my life. I tend to take everything very seriously-too seriously-and I take things personally. Life really is too short.

There is a David Hockney exhibition at the Royal Academy-it's a big trip for me, but I am going. I won't let this disability, this damage, keep me from doing things I want to do any longer. I can't !! I stopped living two years ago, and now it is time to get off my backside and get moving.

Thinking about my nine lives (I wish)

Well, it's Tuesday...and soon I will have more free time, because all the hospital visits are coming to an end for the summer-and thank God for that!!! I've been prodded, poked, bled, irradiated, scanned up the wazoo-and I am hoping all the doctors are as bored with all of this as I am!!

I nearly got killed yesterday. Huh-I thought at the time that if I was a cat, I would have gone through all nine lives at once!! And-this taught me to be vigilant, for once.

I was walking up the road, and there is a pedestrian crossing at the end of it. Some genius from the council (Haringey-where else??) has decided to close the crossing so that some roadworks can be done. That would be fine, but for the fact that the nearest crossing is another 100 yards-in the opposite direction. So-I have been walking around huge orange barriers, and crossing the main road on the crossing itself. Sounds easy-and it is, when there is no traffic!

I don't know where my head was: up my rectum, I think! I didn't look properly, or I would have seen a big red double-decker bus coming straight for me. Happily - for me - he stopped just prior to applying me to the road - and he was waving his arms around, and cursing!! I said I was sorry-but I think I probably scared him as much as he scared me, because he very nearly hit me.It isn't a good idea to fight with a bus: that is most definitely a lose-lose situation. And a messy one, too!!

I now know that I must be more awake at all times: vigilant, mindful, aware, cautious!! That was a really close call. And my balance and vision were really badly affected for the rest of the day-no surprise there, since everything seems to affect me!

I'm very proud of myself for getting down on my hands and knees-and not by falling over, either!- and washing my kitchen and bathroom floors two days ago. It took me hours-and, believe me, my bathroom and kitchen are so small that a legless dwarf should be able to do the floors in twenty minutes!! It took me about two hours. But, the point is, I did it myself, and didn't get someone else to do it for me. After 85 weeks of being able to do just about nothing, this was an awesome achievement.

Who knew I would be so proud of cleaning a floor? Really-I absolutely have to get out more!! Imagine how I will go on and on when I am able to do windows!!!