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!!!!
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
Thursday, 14 February 2013
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!
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.
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.
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
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.
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.
Friday, 8 February 2013
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!!
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!!
Saturday, 2 February 2013
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!!!!!!
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!!!!!!
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