I might never walk upright again...and other tales

Yesterday, I decided to walk-a lot. I put my pedometer around my neck, and I walked and walked-and walked. I thought my legs were going to fall off, I walked so much. I think the orthopedic surgeon would be proud of me.

It turns out that I walked 11,500 (give or take a few) steps-only that translates to only 4 miles. Four miles!! Two and a bit hours (not all at once). Was it worth it?

Well, if I keep doing the torture every other day (I need to recover on the other days!), I should be at least a little stronger by the time they decide to fix my knee. Either that or I will be extremely short, and possibly dead from the exertion.

I decided mid-hill (I do my best thinking when I am trying to breathe and climbing a huge hill at the same time) that I would change the ring on my phone. And this all came about because I decided that it's time to change my life, to shake things up a little, and to absolutely refuse to waste any time thinking about the past-and to refuse to spend any more time with people who are also useless-and boring.

So my phone doesn't ring: it barks. Really-I trolled through all the ring tones-mine was formerly a boing- and decided on a bark. Now it sounds like there is a barking dog on my chest (I carry my phone in a phone pouch when I'm out and about, so don't get too nervous about me hiding an animal in my coat!! LOL!!!).

I'm slowly beginning to return to the exercises I stopped doing several months ago. I think I probably gave up then-because I was that down, and I was beginning to think I'd hit my limit.

Not so. While I was doing my route march yesterday, I held my stick off the ground, and I started looking to the right and then left, and up and then down-all the things I was doing when I was stuck in the house for two years. And I realized that things are a bit easier. I'm not falling over so often, and I can catch myself (usually) before I smack into something (like, for instance, a wall).

I'm on the mend, and it has taken two years and seven months to reach this point. It has been very difficult, and has really challenged my patience (which, as we all know, is nonexistent!!).

If I get bored, I can always call my mobile and listen to my phone bark. What the heck-I absolutely need to get out more!!!!!

On self-congratulations

Ah, what a time it has been. I decided that I have to walk more-and exercise more-and do it consistently, because I'm now just awaiting a surgery date. So I will be on crutches, with no balance system, and that will be amusing-to someone, at least. I need to be strong enough to keep myself from falling over. And-I'm feeling the pressure!

So-I walked and walked on Sunday, and I have my trusty pedometer app-I do mean, I walked. Everywhere. And at the end of it all, I only walked 9,945 steps. I don't know what that is in miles, but I was knackered at the end of the day, and had to just sit down and have a bit of a rest. Eeek-what an ordeal!

I now have decided that, since it was so difficult on Sunday, I will need to repeat the exercise as often as I can. So-yesterday I did it all again. And this time I walked for 10,330 steps. I thought I was about to expire! Out of shape, or what? I just need to keep going. By the time I go into the hospital for my knee repair, I will be very strong, and muscular, and I will have a stronger cardiovascular system. Either that or I will need CPR. By the time I go into Stanmore, I will need the rest!!

Thank goodness the academy awards ceremony is finished. I didn't watch it-I never do. The sight of all these rich people giving each other awards, and congratulating themselves (and each other), and practically crawling up everyone's backside-ewww, it makes me want to vomit. Really-first it was the Oscars. Then it was the poor man's Oscars-the Baftas. And the Emmys, and the Tonys, and the soap awards, and all the stepchildren of the original awards-because, after all, everyone needs to be so nauseatingly false, and self-congratulatory, and sickeningly phony-and most of the time, I would probably disagree with the winner anyway. These guys spend so much time crawling up everyone else's asses, it's a wonder they have time to make movies (or television, or theatre, or music).

I congratulate myself, too-but I do that when I achieve something really special-like walking 10,300 steps without falling in front of moving traffic. And speaking of walking-it's time to at least match my 10,300. I will keep you informed-as I try not to keel over from exhaustion.

And a few things I forgot-again

I meant to add a few things to the deal breaker list: people who are psychotic, psychopathic, deeply insecure, completely stupid, incredibly boring-and, obviously, those who are completely insane-oh, yes, and those who are grade A, blue ribbon, card carrying, award winning, irredeemable wankers.

That about covers it, I think. I would have added "short"- but some of the best people I know are short. I didn't say attractive; I said short. I'm 5'3" - so figure that one out!! LOL!!

I have a recurrent dream about buying a house. It is surrounded by a very high wall, has a moat and a drawbridge-and is in the middle of nowhere. I told this to someone in my meditation group, and two people immediately said they want to come and visit, probably permanently. So that says a lot about the way people here feel about each other.

Just for the record: at home, people complain about the cost of gas-and rightly so, it is ridiculously expensive. But here-if you want to go put gas in your car, you will pay $15 per gallon. That is what I said: $15 per gallon!! No wonder everyone I know wants to emigrate!! Of  course, that would be everyone except the people from Essex, where the favorite pastime is inbreeding.

We are expecting more snow, so I am gearing up for it. I think I will go out and walk anyway. I'm awaiting a knee surgery date, and that won't be long now. So I have to really get as strong as I can. Muscles like a sparrow's kneecaps won't exactly cut it!

I have to say that, in two years and seven months, I have learned the difference between acceptance and resignation. It's been really difficult-and there are things I need to accept if I am going to move forward. One of these is: never trust a doctor. Another is: never trust a lawyer. And another: the more people I meet-or, rather, duck as many are so totally braindead they expect me to sprint out of their way-the more I love animals (the four footed variety).

Give me a dog any day. In fact, a chimp would be a good companion. They are so much smarter than some of us!!

Chomped on by the big black dog-again

Well-this hasn't been the greatest of weeks, I must say. The big black dog suddenly returned-without warning-and chomped on my backside. What a bite! You'd think it would be smaller (the backside, not the dog!!). No such luck.

I slept a lot, and I felt really sorry for myself. Of course, Valentine's Day-lots of happy people around. But-in fairness to myself (and all the divorced/single/widowed/other) and everyone else, there were also lots of unhappy people around. So I told myself to remember that I am so much better off without some bully telling me how useless I am-and leaving the toilet seat up!!

I returned to some semblance of normal yesterday. I think all the sleep (most of it very poor, and very fitful), and the gloom, and being really quite pissed off with life and with everyone in it, spurred me on, got me out of my black mood-and, also, I just bored myself into action. There is nothing quite like boredom to get someone moving!! Skip the self-help tapes and books. Just hang out with yourself, really feel self-pity, and bore yourself into action. That will be £50 please!!

Well, I didn't go to the gym yesterday. I did, however, clean the kitchen. I took the curtains down and spotted a load of black mold around the windowframe-so I got out the old bleach solution and cleaned it, from inside and from outside. There are some perks to living on the ground floor: you can clean your windows and not fall and cripple yourself! I did really well; I wasn't even dizzy.

I've been hearing from the guy I dated about seven or eight years ago. I think I wrote about him about 100+ posts ago: alcoholic, an abusive pothead, a compulsive liar-just the kind of person nobody in their right mind wants to bring home to meet the parents!! He is on my phone, so I can delete him most of the time. But his texts have been increasingly vulgar and weird-and I used to find it amusing to insult him (so easy, it's pathetic), but now I just hit delete. I'm not changing my number for one crazy person.

That-and Valentine's Day-started me thinking about relationships. Of course, I ruminated for a few days. It would be nice to actually date someone-someone who is, in my estimation, normal. No alcoholics, or brain-damaged dope addicts, no misogynists, serial killers, misanthropes, bullies, abusers, retards-no, I have boundaries (finally). And the boundaries cover all relationships, not just the romantic ones. I've had enough bipolar and schizophrenic people banging on the door, thanks. My old landlord, for example! Nothing like having someone who is certifiably insane banging on the door in the middle of the night because she is feeling "insecure". Eeek: I wanted to give her something to feel insecure about!! Instead, I moved out. My next landlord lived about 100 miles north, so I felt really safe...

Every parent should (in my opinion) provide their children with-in addition to "that" conversation about where babies come from, and why a girl is foolish to get pregnant too early-a discussion about deal breakers in a relationship. The qualities I just noted above-aren't they deal breakers? Who wants to be with someone who lies, cheats, takes drugs, is brain dead from alcohol (or just plain brain dead), is so insecure that he (or she) relentlessly bullies their partner and tries to build themselves up by tearing the person who is closest to them down? It's better to be free than to be abused. My thoughts over my week of hibernation, anyway.

Personally, I would rather masturbate with a cheese grater than get into a rotten relationship just because there is someone there who has a pulse-regardless of his lack of suitability (and integrity).

So there is a visual for you!! And-yes, I am back!! What style!! LOL!!!!

And by the way...

Someone wrote a comment-really supportive-unsigned, which is fine. They said that I should put this out on Twitter. Er...well, I don't have a Twitter account-I don't even use my Facebook account! So they (Male? Female? No clue) said they will put this out on Twitter for me.

Thanks to whoever did that-there could be justice by default if this all goes viral!

As for the doctors-the Three Stooges-I have to let that go, too. Let the lawyers handle it (always a dodgy idea, that!).

Valentine's Day-have a great one. I'm headed toward the chocolate. Mmmm-chocolate. It cures everything-except, maybe, obesity. Chocolate and good wine. Good friends. Reasonable health. Life is good. Today, anyway!

The Iceman Didn't Cometh (again)

Well, we were supposed to have ice and snow-and then it was supposed to warm up. It skipped the ice and snow part, went for rain instead, and warmed up to a whopping 52F. Lovely-ish.

I had to go to the Royal London today. It seems that people are supposed to watch and supervise my infusions once a year-and suddenly the nurses discovered that they haven't watched me since 2009! Now that is what I call a definite OOPS!! So, I went along, did my thing, and discovered that there is some new equipment-or, rather, some old equipment, but I didn't know about it because I haven't been infusing at the hospital for years. Now I get to have the new stuff-or, rather, the old new stuff-the next time I get my delivery (in about five weeks). Happy days.

Really, life isn't so bad. I have to deal with Bob the Builder upstairs, but I have done all I can do about him - short of violence - and, since he isn't worth jail time, I will just have to draw a line under the whole thing, avoid him like a case of measles, and learn to live with noise. Everyone I know has a sad tale about noisy neighbors from Hell-and so many stories are much worse than mine. I need to learn to leave these things and move on with life.

My balance, of course, has suffered badly-from the mystery chest infection I've had since November (nobody has any clue as to its origin), the weather (which has been dreadful-except for ducks), and enough stress to kill ten people. I'm used to stress; I need to lessen it, and that means I need to take all the annoying stuff and just look at it and ask myself if I will still be in the situation in five years.

I've clearly got a lot of work to do! And I want to be stick-less by the first week in August-which will be three years since the gentamicin-and I want to be driving by then (like a normal person-in this country, that means terrible!!). I need to move on and get a life-a better one than I've got now, and a much better one than I've had for more years than I can remember.

Watch this space: I've hibernated long enough.

The Iceman Cometh-and the Iceman Goeth

Well-what a week it's been. The Iceman has cometh-and goeth-and is about to cometh again...and this means I will be stuck in the house again!!

It snowed on Sunday. I like snow-theoretically, anyway-I like to watch it as it falls, and even to walk out in it-I just would rather it didn't stick, and turn to slush, and then to ice. I just met a neighbor who showed me a cast on her arm. She slipped on the ice, and broke her arm in two places. And-she did this twice, once for each time the snow fell. What an ouch experience!!

I did make an attempt to get out on Monday. I met a friend for coffee-and I took my life in my hands to get there. Seriously. I grew up with snow, and ice-and I remember always listening to the radio when the snow fell, waiting for school to be cancelled. But-there had to be a good amount of snow for that to happen. In London, one hundredth of a millimeter falls and the entire city grinds to a standstill. The local councils don't grit properly, side roads (like mine) are ignored, even main roads-and sidewalks-are ignored. Perhaps the council people are amused by the number of people who fall and break arms, legs,whatever. Go figure. The Brits are a hardy people - not very bright, but hardy. Nobody complains; they just break bones. Stupid, or what?

Well-I went to the gym yesterday, and I realized last night that my muscles are really not there for decoration. Every muscle in my upper body hurts-even muscles I didn't know I had! So now, both halves hurt (upper and lower)-and that tells me that I most definitely need to work out regularly, and often, because I will be having knee surgery before long, and I am going to need to be able to walk. No more falling down!

I finally recovered from the tortuous day at the storage unit-and I went back this morning. But-it's just too cold to do anything. When I first put everything into the unit, the storage manager (Steve) told me that the place was temperature controlled (he lied), and that there are never any bugs, or mice, or rats, or anything not human (he lied on this, too). Poor Steve-he lied to everyone, and he is now no longer employed by the company. Somebody did something right! And I am slowly (VERY slowly) getting stuff together to give to charity, or to toss, or to burn-or to take home and use. The next few weeks will be interesting!

I haven't yet decided what to do about the hospital(s). I will be changing chest physicians, but not anyone else. Of course, I might not have any say in the matter, because the General Medical Council informed me that my complaints will remain on record for the future. Of  course they will; it's about as useful complaining to doctors about doctors as it is complaining about lawyers to the Law Society.

One of my cornerstones of life: life is unfair (and unjust). I will have to learn to live with other people's mistakes. I don't have to like it-but I do have to live with it.

I'm not going to stay on much longer. It is absolutely brutal outside: very, very cold-and we are expecting more snow and ice, although it is supposed to melt by the weekend. It is what I call "brass monkey weather" (another Northern expression). That means it is cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. I have to say that some of the expressions are just great. What a laugh.

There is a huge scandal about companies serving horse meat in lieu of beef-and passing it off as beef. It's been all over the news-incredible. Of course, in France, horse meat is used in everything. I am not sure they even eat beef. No, they eat Dobbin, and Trigger. But even some of the British "beef" has been found to have horse in it. Tesco-a huge company that specializes in moving into small villages, setting up shop, selling everything very cheaply and thereby putting the local butchers and other small shops out of business-and then upping their prices (someone told me that WalMart does the same thing), has been found guilty of serving horse meat in just about everything.

Well, that's it. I'm a full vegetarian now. No eating anything that whinnies. Or barks. Or meows. Or has a face. Or parents.

Happy Valentine's Day. Eat chocolate. Drink wine. Eat tofu.

And by the way...

There are times I wish I knew a hitman. This is most definitely one of them. Hang the karma!!!!

Still kicking-ish

I haven't died-it just feels like it! I went to the gym yesterday, and I hadn't been there for several weeks-and I did legs-and now I have pain where I didn't even think I had muscles! I have to get my skates on, and now really hit it hard and go at least four times a week-my balance depends on my legs, and my knee surgery will be happening before I know it. So I must be strong!!

At the moment, I have muscles about half the size of a sparrow's kneecaps. Really-I'm growing nervous about the surgery-and the balance-so I must stop goofing off and start working.

This was a hospital run week-rather like the school run, but different (okay, it wasn't like the school run, but you get the drift). On Wednesday, I went along to the Tate Britain-I haven't been there in so long, I forgot that they are renovating, so I got a bit lost when I tried to find the Members Room. The corridor I used to use has been sealed off. It was lovely and quiet and 10am-but that didn't last long. All of a sudden, hordes of people arrived-it was like a plague of locusts (pardon the biblical reference :-). I met my friend Marlene, who is in her 70s and has been a professional quilter for a number of years. We enjoyed the exhibits, and then got on the train home.

I received a letter from the Medical Research Council this morning. As I expected: it is a whitewash. Marlene suggested that doctors close ranks, and they all cover for each other. That is exactly what happened. The investigator said that my comments have been noted, but the Council would not take any action; they only do something if a doctor should be struck off-that is, his (or her) registration pulled, and the right to practice is refused. Crippling someone for life apparently doesn't count. If they'd killed me-well, perhaps that would count.

This obviously depressed me-but I really was expecting it. So---I now need to decide what to do next. I clearly cannot confide in anyone at Barts!!! Next move: I need to give serious thought to it, because I don't want to get myself in the same position in which I found myself last week: not knowing if I would be chucked out of Barts and have to find another immunology service. These people get you one way or the other: whatever they do to you (or, indeed, to anyone), they are never held accountable for their actions. It sucks.

I know my friends and family tell me how awful it is over in the U.S.-but I have to say that, if this had happened at home, the case would have been settled already-and the doctors would have been chastised (too bad they couldn't have been castrated instead).

There is a way- I just need to find it, without putting myself back into the s**t!!

A bit like Humpty Dumpty

Why buy a dog if you have to do the barking yourself??

Wednesday was my day to go to the storage unit-to get everything out, bleach the floor (allegedly), and put everything back-with some semblance of order. That didn't work out the way I expected.

I got there at 8am, and the storage people were getting their man and his helper to clear the big unit, in addition to the two smaller units (used to clear parts of the big unit so we could get into it to see the mouse damage). Well!! The old guy who showed up was called David; his helper, the muscles, was Norman. They turned out to be more interested in the contents of the boxes than in moving and shifting stuff-and David decided that he had another job at 1pm, so he left Norman to finish up. It turned out to be Norman-and me. And we finished at 4:30, no breaks, nothing to eat or drink...it was purgatory! I got so dizzy at about 2pm that I nearly keeled over in the corridor. Poor Norman thought I was about to expire. BUT-it all got done, although not very well, and there is a lot of damage-not only from mice, but also from David and Norman!!
I got home at about 6:45, feeling like Humpty Dumpty, and wishing that there was somebody who could put me back together again. It took me until today to recover from this very interesting day trip to Hell.

I'm just about finished with all the hospital visits; I have a few in March, and that is about it-until the big knee surgery, and I'm not sure when that will take place. I'm not rushing anything!! I have nearly all of February to myself-first time in two and a half years that I actually have time off. I wonder if I'll be bored!!

NJ emailed me, saying that she thinks she is bipolar, since she has periods of feeling very happy and filled with energy, and other moments of feeling like she doesn't want to go anywhere or see anyone. I think she isn't bipolar (now the trendy term for manic depression), but just moody. That got me thinking-about life, and expectations, and disappointments. We both thought our lives would turn out differently-and we were both wrong.

NJ learned all the right things: how to cook, how to sew, all the homemaking stuff girls learn when they think they will marry and have children, and have dinner parties, and all that good stuff. She always wanted a home. Now-I can cook, but I will never win Master Chef! And, as for sewing...well, what I get when I attempt to sew is a lot of swearing and a substantial amount of blood loss. Sewing? That is why there are tailors!! And cooking?? Hey-God bless whoever invented takeaways.

I can honestly say-at this point in my life-that I have learned to be independent and self-sufficient, in spite of the events of the last two and a half years. A good man would be nice to have around-but there is no substitute for a really good microwave!!!!!!