Ouch - that hurts!

The title of the post sums up how I feel at the moment.  My back has been agony, and it’s all because I’ve had to change desks to cover holiday.  I’ve been to the chiropractor, and bless him – he’s been really good, but has said that he will need to treat me as a physiotherapist.

Which he did last night – using a heat lamp and massage.  I did mutter something about “if I smell cooking meat, you’re extinct” which made him laugh.  Glad someone found it funny. 

But, despite my bad temper, it has helped my lower back – now all I have is pain between my shoulder blades.  But at least I know what the problem is – it’s all down to my posture at this blasted desk. 

And to add insult to my injury? I’m spending an extra two days at the hated desk.  I wouldn’t object, but it’s not doing me any favours, and I know that come the weekend, my back will be wrecked again, meaning that I won’t be on top form for the weekend.  

Not what I want at all, but I guess these things are sent to try us.  But at the moment, all I will say is...

WHY ME????

Back when I’ve finished feeling sorry for myself (and more to the point, when I’ve finished my coffee!)

Karen

Dear idiot who joined the Darkside for cookies...
Just because we said we have them, didn't mean we're going to share them!

On the squeak.

Yet again, I have been hit with the lurgy. A triple whammy this time, with a dose of ‘flu (ok – not too bad – I’d had the jab), a chest infection and my asthma deciding to go haywire.

The ‘flu and the chest infection haven’t really helped my asthma, and when I went to see the doctor on Friday morning, I was squeaking and wheezing like there was no tomorrow – so it was straight onto the antibiotics and steroid pills (enough to get Mum to duck if I started coughing) and plenty of rest and fluids.

Ok – that go me through until Monday, when I started having to rely really heavily on my blue inhaler, but it didn’t really seem to help. So, back to the doctor I duly go, only to be put on a nebuliser.

This looks like an oxygen mask, with a little pot underneath which seemed to have two colourless liquids mixed in, and was then placed over the nose and mouth, with the instructions to breathe normally.

Ok – so far so good. However, it reminded me of a compressor (guess it was in a way) and all I could see was a sort of vapour escaping from the two side vents. But there was one slight drawback – I had to take my glasses off so that I could read, as the mask was a little too big for me. But, beggars can’t be choosers, and I have to admit that it has helped (as has having a hot water bottle semi permanently attached!)

Now onto the other problem… The boiler has started to play up, meaning that there is little heating in the house (hence the hot water bottle) and British Gas (in their alleged infinite wisdom) decided that as the boiler was running after a fashion, that they would cancel the engineer’s visit that I had booked for Tuesday PM.

Now that was ok on Monday, as the solution that my beloved gave me on Sunday night (bleed the radiators of air bubbles) had seemed to work. But this boiler has proven over the years to be a temperamental little SOB, and has now decided to really play silly buggers. It looks like the air pressure switch is playing up, meaning that the burner won’t catch properly (ah, the joys of the trouble shooting guide in the boiler handbook.)

Now comes the real kick in the teeth. Because the blasted thing is 20 years old, it would be very difficult to get another service contract on it, despite the fact that it normally runs without any problems. So, as I type this, I am sitting at my computer cursing British Gas and wishing that we had insisted on the engineer coming out, whilst Mum is giving British Gas a real blasting on the ‘phone.

I doubt that it will do much good, but I can understand her frustration, as we cancelled the original appointment at the request of British Gas, as we did have heating of a sort. However, the minute we try and point out that one of our neighbours is having a routine service visit, we then get told that because it was booked several weeks ago, then that can’t be changed. Thanks for bloody nothing.

It makes me wonder what the smeg my family have paid out all this money to British Gas over the years for this damned service contract, when all the dopes at the call centre can do is suggest that we go and buy a dimplex heater from B & Q. congratulations – they’ve sold out, and we are snowed in, so even if we wanted to get one, we can’t get out.

Ah well, guess I should go and reheat the hot water bottle and find something to keep myself out of mischief…

Back when I get the chance.


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Flu jabs and Banbury..

Where do I start with this post? Apart from yelling OUCH every time I try to move my arms. The reason for this yell, is because I’ve had the ‘flu jabs. Yes – I got stuck in both arms – the swine flu in the right arm and the standard flu strains in the left arm. They didn’t hurt (much) when I had them this morning, but as I’m sitting here at my computer, my left arm is screaming, and the right one is whimpering.

By all accounts, I should have had the swine flu jab last year, but I was too cowardly to have it, so thought I’d better get it sorted out as this nasty flu is kicking about this year – allegedly. I personally think that it’s because the government had a load of vaccine left over last year as the supposed pandemic didn’t materialise, so they’re looking for suckers to get stabbed this year.

So, I was duly stabbed in both arms, and as I didn’t feel too bad, went down to Banbury with Mum. Not a problem there, until we got into BHS… There was a strange scent in the air, and as I wasn’t feeling too good, my stomach started to rebel.

Needless to say, I made a swift exit, and headed straight into my favourite shop – Waterstones. I was looking for the next books in a series that I have been reading (Rachel Vincent’s Were Cat series). I struck gold, and got the next three books, much to my delight.

Then it was off to the West Cornwall Pasty Company. This is the company that Dad and I used to go to every time we were in Banbury, as the pasties are very tasty (and are perfect for me taking into the office for lunch).

Once the pasties had been duly purchased, Mum and I then went in search of something rather exotic – knitting patterns. Now most people wouldn’t consider this a problem but for me, trying to find a pattern that I am happy to have on a jersey is rather awkward, as I don’t like anything too fancy. Thankfully, Mum and I managed to find three patterns that she can adapt (they’re Aran wool patterns and I itch like I have fleas).

Then the rest of the time was just wandering around Banbury town centre – until I spotted a new bookshop. It was a real mixed bag – part bookshop, part stationers, and I found something that I have searched high and low for. Pink Parker Quink cartridges for my fountain pen.

The reason? Ever since I was a junior school, I have used a fountain pen, and when I am doing some types of paperwork in the office, I want something that is going to stand out – hence the pink ink.

We then took a leisurely walk towards the Castle Quay centre, and then headed to Debenhams for a coffee and a sandwich, as I was hungry (and my arms were hurting). Thankfully, the pain killers kicked in fairly fast, and the rest of the day was a blur – mainly because I fell asleep this afternoon. Even as I type this, I am still tired but I know damned well if I go back to sleep, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Ah well, guess I should call this quits – I’m starting to get hungry.

Back when I get the chance…



Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

“Jail Break” (Or Getting Mum out of the fleapit)

Well, as I type this, Mum is at home, and out of that fleapit of a hospital. The discharge process was a farce, and to be honest, I am glad to have Mum back home. Don’t get me wrong – I know she needed the operation, and am glad that it has been done, but the standards were…. Scarily lax.

The gel dispenser that I’d reported being empty yesterday was still empty, and I walked in with one of the office minions that seemed to be based on the ward. She walked straight in to her office, ignoring the notices about using this gel, even though the damned dispenser was on the wall by the door of the office!

If you needed a wheelchair to get a patient out, there were none available on the ward, and it was a case of “go find one yourself”. I did – and I was lucky, because there were only three left!

Thankfully, I was able to park in the drop off area, and go and wheel Mum out to the car (she managed to get in with relative ease – could be something to do with all the practise that she has had!)

Now all we have to do is make sure that the district nurse turns up tomorrow, as Mum needs to have the dressing on her wounds changed daily – but if I'm honest, I don’t hold out much hope…

Guess I should call this quits – I need to get some sleep.

Back when I get the chance…


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Visiting Mum in “jail”

That was what this dratted hospital reminded me of. That and the fact that the so-called infection control seems to be non-existent.

At the entrance to the wards, there are pumps that dispense this grotty alcohol free anti-microbial gel. I went to use the one that was outside the ward, only to find that it was empty. So, as I entered the ward area, I found another dispenser, liberally coated my hands and told one of the auxiliaries that seemed to be doing very little.

“Ok – I’ll get that sorted out”

No worries there – or so I thought. I located where Mum was (she looked pretty good, all things considering), and sorted out a seat for myself. Now I know from past experience that when I have been to visit Mum in hospital, it was almost a hanging offence to sit either on the bed, or the chair that was beside the bed, as there were chairs in the day room that visitors were supposed to use.

This time, I could have sat on Mum’s bed without anything being said to me. Not a good indication as far as I could see for infection control. Then the sadists turned up (sorry – I mean physiotherapists).

Now when Mum had her hip sorted out, it was a rule that no patient was allowed out of bed without putting slippers on. This time? Mum could have walked all over the ward in bare feet, and not one person would have said a damned thing to her.

Add into this mix, the mere fact that it was a good thing that Mum had taken some of her own medication into hospital with her, and you get the impression that I am less than impressed with the standards that I have seen. It turns out, that no medication has been sorted for Mum, despite the fact that she gave the pre-operative clinic all the information.

I made my escape, and on the way out, checked the dispenser that had been empty as I entered the ward, and found that it was still empty. To be honest, the sooner I can get Mum back home, the better. I really don’t want her staying in that fleapit of a hospital any longer than is absolutely necessary.

Guess I should call this quits – I’ve got to call the playpen and see if I can book some extra time off, as I don’t have the foggiest idea when Mum is going to be allowed home.

Back later, if I get the chance.

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Leaving Mum

Well, I’ve just dropped Mum off at the hospital. What a depressing place. You can tell that the architect used to design prisons…

The car park was easy to find – once you knew where the hell you were aiming for. It’s almost like the disabled car park location is a state secret. Mum and I found where she was supposed to go, and got checked in by the nurse.

As per normal, Mum hadn’t had the results of the MRSA test (I read the admission card – she’d tested negative) and there was little information about her medication (despite the fact that she’d given the pre-admission clinic a complete printout from the GP as well as writing it out!)

Because there was no point me hanging around, I headed for home, via the nearby Tesco, as there were several things that I wanted to pick up whilst Mum was in hospital – milk, bread and potatoes.

That was where the fun started. As the weather has been somewhat inclement (ok – it’s snowed here, and the roads that haven’t been gritted are like skating rinks) the car park was just a sea of white. No indication of the parking bays or anything else. God help you if you were unsteady on your feet, because it was lethal underfoot as well.

The store itself looked like it had been hit by locusts – there was very little fresh fruit or vegetables, but I guess that it could have been due to the time that I was there – just after 08:30, but equally, it could have been due to the fact that the delivery truck hadn’t made it.

Honestly, it does make you wonder at times. Two flakes of snow, and the entire country grinds to a halt, and you get panic buying at the supermarket. Well, that’s something I won’t be indulging in – I’ve got everything I need, and if not – well I'm sure that I can do without for a couple of days.

Back tomorrow – I want to try and get some sleep…

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Getting the news

Well, I’ve had the ‘phone call that I have been waiting for. Mum’s got to go back into hospital to have all the metalwork in her right leg removed.

It turns out that Mum should have had this metalwork removed when she had the first part of the broken screw removed back in 2006. But, hindsight is a wonderful thing, and at least the surgeon is going to get Mum sorted out.

He said that the one piece of screw is making a break for freedom (again) and the Russell Taylor nail that is in her right femur has dropped down slightly, straightening the bent screw. In a way, this isn’t such a bad thing, but the nail runs the risk of eventually dropping down on to the knee cap and causing problems.

Because this needs sorting, the surgeon has put in the notes that the metalwork is causing an infection, and that Mum needs to be treated as an urgent case. She had the option of going into hospital next week, but she has decided that she will go in on Wednesday 6th January.

Ok – that’s not a problem, as I’ve booked the time off (there is no way that I am going to allow anyone else to take Mum into hospital) and it should only be an overnight stay, and I have no intention of being in the playpen whilst Mum is in hospital – I was nearly worse than useless when she had the partial hip replacement.

But, as far as I am concerned, she’s in the best hands possible – she’s seeing the sawbones that put her back together after the car accident, and that’s all I can ask for, as the guy is a human being first and a surgeon second. Now I know that sounds really mean, but I’ve had the misfortune to be treated by surgeons who are only interested in the bit that is being treated – they tend to forget that there is a patient attached.

Ah well, guess I should get some work done before I log off (and go bowling)

Back tomorrow with the results of the bowling….

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Now you’re taking the squeak!

There are some rules that are beyond comprehension, and one of them deals with insurance. I’ve had to tell the company that provides the insurance for my car, that I now have asthma.

What the hell this has to do with them is beyond me. Ok – I understand that it may impact my driving, but considering as there is a damned good chance that I have had this condition for the past 4 years…

Ok – it’s not too much of a gripe – my insurance premium hasn’t been affected. Yet. But I am now wondering what this going to do to my renewal figure for next year. Thank god that I’ve only just renewed – it gives me time to get things settled down, with regards to my treatment.

But that’s not the only thing that is getting to me at the moment. What is also getting to me, are people who call me on my mobile, and when the voice mail kicks in (usually because I can’t answer the phone) they don’t leave me a message and my phone lists it as a missed call.

It’s not rocket science. All I ask, is that if I don’t answer my phone for whatever reason, please leave me a voice mail, so that I can find out what the hell the call was for.

Ah well, guess I should call this quits – I'm supposed to be working, but I’ve got TNFI again…

Back later


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Diagnosis: Squeak

Ok – I'm taking the Mickey at the moment, but if I don’t, I’ll just fall to pieces. I felt like crap yesterday, and after much heartache (and coughing my guts up), I bit the bullet and called home, to ask Mum if she could get a doctor’s appointment for me.

Mission accomplished, and I left the office yesterday afternoon, feeling bloody awful, and more than a tad annoyed at the attitude of the management (“We can’t afford for you to be off – we need you in the office”)

But, I really couldn’t give a rodent’s rectum at that moment in time, and headed for home, where I managed to fall asleep before the appointment with Dr Wright. As I felt so grotty, Mum drove, and waited in the car whilst I went into the surgery.

After being asked the usual questions:

“Do you smoke?”

“Nope – can’t afford to – I drive”

The doctor dropped his bombshell on me. He said that my notes listed wheezing every time I’d been down there, and in his words “if it walks like a dog, and barks like a dog, I’ll call it a dog” – he said that I’ve got asthma.

Asthma. Not something I was expecting, but at least I know what the hell is wrong with me (oh, that and a chest / throat infection), and am being treated with antibiotics and oral steriods.

All I will say is - if I start coughing - DUCK. I'm on 8 tablets a day - two antibiotics and six steroid tablets.I’ve also got an appointment with the asthma clinic on 23rd December, so that my treatment regime can be worked out, and I can be taught how to manage my condition.

Ok – so in some careers this is devastating (in the police, it’s practically a hanging offence) but for me, it’s just something that I'm going to have to get to grips with, and do as I'm told. Again.

But, I'm not going to let this get to me – far from it. I’ve managed to cope with a leaking valve, so I'm as sure as hell going to cope with this.

Guess I should do some w*rk, but I have a really severe case of TNFI…

Back later.


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Feeling like squeak...

And I’m fed up with people taking the Mickey out of me, because all I can do is squeak. Add into that, the fact that I’m just feeling run down, and you get one unhappy little tigger.

Being told by one of my supervisors yesterday, that the powers that be appreciated the fact that I was in, despite having very little voice was nice, but the edge had been taken off earlier in the day by my manager who told me that they couldn’t afford to have me off sick as well, and that I needed to treat the squeak.

Excuse me – I’m not one of these people that think “oh, I’ll have a duvet day – I don’t fancy going into the office today.” If I’m off sick, it’s because I’ve either got an infection that means I’m not fit enough to go in, or I’ve got a migraine that makes me feel banging my head against a wall would be less painful.

As you can tell, I'm not feeling my normal chirpy self, as this cough is really dragging me down. To add insult to my injury, it’s my Godsprog’s birthday today, and I can’t risk going anywhere near the little monster in case I infect her with whatever I have got.

Isn’t life a bitch at times?

Guess I should do some work, but I have a severe case of TNFI – thankfully, there’s only one more day to go before the weekend…

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Good news

Is just what the doctor ordered.  I've just had a text from a good friend of mine.  She's been back to the hospital for the results of the MRI scan that she's had, and it's good news - there's no tumor.

All I can say is THANK GOD FOR THAT!

Back later.

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

After the flu jab

sWell, I’ve had my flu jab, and I just hope it’s worth it. I felt like crap yesterday, and as for Friday… All I can say is thanks God Mum drove – I felt like I’d had a skin full after the jab.

Why do I say this? Simple. I felt like I was drunk, and I was missing things on the road home that normally I would have spotted without a second thought. Things like the mere fact that there was a rather large truck in front of us, with a second trailer attached to the rigid trailer.

Add into that mix, that I thought I could taste the jab (not a pleasant taste, I can assure you) and a rotten headache, and you get one very grumpy person. I guess the headache was just due to the fact that I’d wound myself up over this jab. (I’m always like this – I just seem to have a phobia about needles – could be something to do with the fact that I’ve always been ill or injured when a doctor or nurse has come near me with a needle attached to an injection...)

Yesterday, well what can I say? Apart from the fact that I still felt like crap. Mum and I went down to Milton Keynes, as the weather wasn’t brilliant (as in the fact that it was chucking it down with rain – and I hate getting wet!) and had a wander around.

Now we’ve been getting a stupid message on our TV set about the Sky viewing card, saying that we need to go to the Sky website to get a new viewing card… Now normally, Mum would send her secretary (me) to go on line and get this sorted. One problem – no Sky subscription.

We let this lapse, as it was getting to be stupid money, and we worked it out that it was costing us about £1.00 per hour that we watched it – i.e. not worth it, as neither of use were bothered by the movies (I prefer to watch a DVD when it suits me – not when some dratted TV company tells me to) and most of the sports channels were taken up with football. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve supported Coventry City football club for more years than I’m going to admit to, but as they don’t play in the Premiership, it was of no interest to me whatsoever.

So, we picked up a leaflet, and priced. It came to about £20 a month with the three packs that we were interested in (we had to get the knowledge pack – I really miss the Discovery Channels – I adore watching American Chopper!) and threw in a free Sky + box! Bonus!

Then it was just a case of wandering around – avoiding the pig ignorant people who seemed determined to walk straight at us – despite the fact that Mum is on a walking stick. Me? I was playing pure cowardice – I was keeping close to Mum to try and protect my shoulder (which was killing me).

Ah well, guess I should call this quits – I’m supposed to be getting ready to go out – not blogging.

Back later.


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

A weekend away…

Just what I needed. I spent the weekend with my beloved, and did as little as was humanly possible. The original plan was for us to go to the F1 day at Mercedes Benz world on the Sunday. However, this went “splat” as we didn’t get allocated the tickets (allegedly 45000 people requested tickets, but my guess was that most of those requests were duplicates...) So, that put paid to the original plan.

So, we decided that we would go to RAF Hendon on Sunday, as it was undercover (the weather wasn’t supposed to be too good – and I hate the cold!) But Saturday was a different matter entirely.

My shoulder has been playing up something wicked just recently, and I went to see my tame physio, to see if I could get this sorted out. Oh, it got sorted out ok – to the extent that I threw up! Stuart was really good about it, and gave me a disposable bowl, as I was at least able to warn him, before I threw up.

That knocked me about for a few minutes, and as I had to drive south, he made me promise that I would not only take things easy, but I would let him know that I had arrived ok.

That wasn’t an issue, and I took a leisurely drive down the A5 through Towcester, and stopped en-route for a break, as I really didn’t want to push my luck with my shoulder.

I got back on the road, and my beloved called to find out where I was – I was about half an hour away, stationary at traffic lights! For once in my life, I didn’t get lost and I was able to park on the drive and go into the house and get warm.

We’d arranged to go to a firework display that night, and I will admit to being very glad that I had “Stinky” with me (my late father’s Barbour coat with the detachable furry liner!) as it was bloody cold. The display was smashing, and I will admit to jumping every time there was a loud bang – no idea why, as normally I’m not bothered by such loud bangs…

Sunday itself was quite good fun – we went to RAF Hendon, and managed to get to see the Grahame-White Factory collection  This is where the historic WWI aircraft are kept. This hangar is something rather special, because it’s the only one of its type in existence. My beloved was able to explain the story behind the hangar.

It turned out that RAF Hendon sold the land where this hangar was located, and after much bargaining, the deal was reached to move the hangar, restore it and re-build it to modern building regulations, but keep as much of the original material as possible.

After that, it was a cold walk back to the main building, and into the Milestones of Flight aircraft collection.

This hall shows little gems, such as the de Havilland Mosquito (the wooden airplane – the glue used to hold it together is still classified under the official secrets act!)

As well as more “modern” aircraft like the BAe Harrier GR3:

And the ultra modern Eurofighter Typhoon:

But my favorite aircraft, I have to admit, is the North American P-51D Mustang. Simply because I love the mascot:

It was then a short, but cold walk though the covered walkway between the two halls, into the Bomber Command Hall.  The only drawback to this is the lighting in there is appalling. This meant the flash on the camera was very heavily utilised in a vain attempt to get any kind of photo!

The one thing that I did notice, was that there was more space than before, as some of the aircraft that had been in the bomber hall had been moved to the sister museum at RAF Cosford - planes such as the Valiant, which had been moved to the Cold War exhibition at RAF Cosford.It looked like they were doing some kind of restoration on the Buccaneer that was there.

However, S for Sugar, the big Lancaster bomber was still in pride of place in the middle of the bomber hall.

That wasn’t the only little gem that I managed to find. I also managed to find the Handley Page Halifax II. This aircraft looks like it should have been sent to the scrap yard, but it was recovered from Lake Hoklingen in Norway in 1973, and was taken to RAF Hendon in 1982. Whilst we were there, there were volunteers working on the aircraft. What they were doing, I truly do not have the foggiest.

It was then time for us to head across the car park to the Battle of Britain Memorial Hall, although this is now known as the Sunderland Hall for some reason...    The exhibits are something rather special, but again, the lighting lets them down really badly.

Ok - I agree with atmospheric lighting whilst the show "Our Finest Hour" is going on, but afterwards, decent lighting would allow people to enjoy the aircraft properly.

The camouflage on the Messerschmitt Bf 110G-2 was rather spectacular - a two tone mottled blue-grey top surface, with a light blue undersurface (no idea why this particular paint scheme - I just thought it made a rather dramatic photograph with the subdued lighting!)

But, once you left this part of the hall, the lighting difference was incredible (even allowing for the grotty British weather!)

As per my luck, the Sunderland wasn't open for the publick to walk though, but that didn't stop me getting some superb photographs...

After we finished at RAF Hendon, we took a quiet run home, and I will admit to falling asleep in front of the TV – only to be woken up by my beloved. We ended up going out for a curry, and I will admit it was really tasty (and very reasonable!)

The rest of the weekend?  Well, what can I say, other than it was a nicely chilled time, and I managed to sort out most things.  Although there was one cloud on the horizon...  My beloved woke up Monday morning in tears, and said that he'd had a dream.

Ok - not something I would normally worry about, but he said that it concerned me.  Ok - now I was worried.  He said that I'd told him (in the dream) that I wanted nothing to do with him, and that I was quite nasty about it, and that I was being egged on by someone (but he couldn't see who). 

That scared me, and I will admit I tried my best to reassure him that I have no intention of walking out on our relationship.  Later on, he said that he couldn't do without me in his life, and that he hoped I felt the same.  I do, and I know damned well that what ever happens, we'll always be there for each other, as I think I have finally found my soul-mate.

That's not something that I take lightly, and I have made myself a promise, that if he needs me, I will do everything in my power to be there for him, in spirit if not physically.

Ah well, guess I should call this quits - I'm supposed to be working, not blogging!

Back later.

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

My mother is a sadist.

Why? She's only gone and booked my damned flu jab for Friday 13th. It turns out that I am eligible for the annual flu injection – all I have to do pay for the prescription. Ok – not a problem, in theory. In practice, I hate injections, so this is not something I am looking forward to.

But, hopefully, this will stop me doing my annual nosedive with the ‘flu, and wrecking my New Year plans – something that has happened to me the past two years in a row, and has caused mayhem for me and my family.

Ah well - guess I should call this quits - it's nearly time to leave this playpen.

Back tomorrow.

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Still in shock

“What you cannot escape, you must fight; what you cannot fight, you must endure"

I guess this sums up my feelings at this precise moment in time. Ok – just after 7am on a dark and cold Sunday morning. I’ve spoken to my friend, and she’s got to go for a MRI scan on Tuesday, to see what is causing the deafness in her left ear. She’s understandably terrified. So am I, because from the little bit of information that I have been able to gleam from the internet, it’s bloody scary.

The doctor thinks it might be something called Acoustic neuroma which is apparently a slow growing tumour on the nerve of hearing, and is quite rare. Thanks. That doesn’t really make me feel any better, but until she gets the results, neither of us will know what this hearing loss has been caused by.

Aside from the scary stuff, my beloved was involved in the second Ride to the Wall yesterday.This has become almost an annual pilgrimage by bikers from all over the UK, to the national memorial arboretum in Airewas.

According to the BBC website, there were over 5,000 bikes there, including a serving major general in uniform, who had ridden his Harley from Aldershot. This idea is not only to raise funds for the arboretum, but to show respect to the fallen in every war since the end of the Second World War, to the current conflict in Afghanistan.

Speaking of which, or rather typing of the war, there was one of the best quotes I have ever read in the paper yesterday.

I am not shaking your hand, Mr Blair. You’ve got blood on it

This was the quite understandable (and in my opinion quite acceptable) reaction of a bereaved father who was at the service of rememberance that was held in St Paul’s Cathedral on Friday.

Apparently, Mr Blair’s bodyguards ushered him away, and he looked visibly shocked. Good. Nothing like having it rammed home to you by someone who has lost their son in an illegal war. I guess this was just the “icing on the cake” as they say, as he’d already been criticised during the sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

If I’m honest, I’d love to see Mr Blair in the Hague. Preferably in the dock, being charged with war crimes, because the second invasion of Iraq was illegal. Shrub (George W. Bush) just wanted to go one better than daddy, and remove Saddam Hussein from power.

Don’t get me wrong – Saddam was no saint by any stretch of the imagination, but if there was to be regime change, it should have been done with the sanction of the UN – not by a blood thirsty little war monger and his pet.

Ah well - time to call this quits - I've got bits and pieces to sort out today.

Back when I can - probably tomorrow.

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Shell Shock....

Not the news I wanted to hear.  A good friend of mine has been told that she is now partially deaf in the left ear,with no obvious cause, but a benign tumor is suspected (if a tumour can be classified as begnign!)  Because of this, she now has to go for x-rays, and if they doesn't show anything, a scan. 

Talk about having a bombshell dropped.  I was told that the reason this had been held back, was because I've had a visit to the cardiologist today (I've got a leaking heart valve) and I will admit to having been somewhat preoccupied.  But that doesn't change the fact that I wish I had known - this really knocks my leak into perspective.

OK - the leak is a damned nuisance, and yes, it does interfere with my life (as much as I allow it!) but a brain tumour is another kettle of fish.  At least I can get the leak sorted with minimum invasion, but a tumour.....

Time to call this quits - I'm shaking.

Back when I can pull myself together.

Karen


Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Scared

I'm due to see the cardiologist at University Hospital Coventry (it used to be known as Walsgrave) this afternoon, and I don't mind admitting I'm scared out my tiny brain cell. It's stupid in a way, as I trust the guy implicitly, but that doesn’t stop the fear.

Why? Because my father died of a heart attack, and my aunt has a similar condition to me, so I guess that heart trouble is inherited from father’s side of the family. I was told whilst I was at university that I had a leaking heart valve, but not much more, and was allowed to scamper off and cause mayhem as I chose.

That’s fine when you’re 20, but I’m approaching my mid thirties, and things have changed, as in the leak has gotten worse. In hindsight, I should have kicked up more than I did, but I was more concerned with not losing my knee joint (I was told I had one more accident before I needed a replacement – scary when you’ve just turned 21!)

As it happens, it looks like I may well be used as a guinea pig for a new treatment, which means that I don’t get the “zip” effect and a shorter stay in hospital – i.e. overnight if I get my way! Hopefully, this will “cure” the problem. I use that term somewhat advisedly, as the only things that are certain in this life are death and taxes, and I am determined to make the most of whatever chance I get.

Time to call this quits – I’ve got to make tracks to the hospital.

Back later.


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

What the hell is that???

The title of this entry sums up my reaction when I saw the top of Mum's left leg - right where the scar is from the hip replacement. Her leg was red and blotchy and according to Mum, itched like hell.

So, rather than risking our holiday in 9 days time (I'm not counting down - honest!) I took the decision to go over to Warwick Hospital. Not my first choice I can freely admit, but I was unsure if Rugby's St Cross hospital has a casualty unit, as it's services have been severely reduced over the past 10 years or so...

Whilst I was waiting for Mum to finish locking the house up (and making sure the furry fiends were OK) I made a call to my beloved, as I was supposed to be meeting him for dinner at the Green Man this evening. His 'phone was turned off, and I will admit I must have sounded slightly anxious (OK - terrified!) that there was something seriously wrong with Mum.

Once Mum and I got there, it turned out that there is and out-of-hours GP service there. OK - not a problem as our GP practice comes under the South Warwickshire health authority, so we didn't forsee any issues.

Until we were told that the first available appointment was 10:10 (and we got to the hospital at 08:45.) Mum was not in a good mood, and I will admit growling at her, and telling her to take the appointment, as I had no intention of taking root in A & E for an hour or more.

She agreed, and we headed into Leamington to kill the hour and a bit before the appointment. The time wasn't really wasted, as I managed to go to the bank and get some money from my account. (It's all very well having the cash card, but sometimes it's faster (and safer) to use cash.)

So, we returned to the hospital, and got our selves booked in, and then proceeded to take root, as the service was running late. But I can't fault the treatment - the GP on call was a real gent, and said that the problem could be one of two things - either a bite or a mild case of cellulitis (a skin infection) which could be treated quite easily with antibiotics.

Mum couldn't remember being bitten, so the doctor prescribed antibiotics for her, and said that she should notice an improvement in the next 24 - 48 hours, and if there was no improvement, then she should go and see our own GP.

So, as I walked back to the car, I will admit to feeling an incredible sense of relief, and called my beloved to give him the good news. The call went to his voice mail as he was at work, but as I was driving towards the exit of the hospital car park, he called me.

He said that he was glad to hear that Mum was OK, and that she was making jokes about the problem, and if we hadn't been able to meet up tonight, he would have come up to see me, as there was no way he was not going to see me before I went on holiday! That really brightened me up, and I will admit I laughed when he said I would do anything to get an extra cuddle!

As Mum and I couldn't go to Banbury as planned, I suggested that we went to a garden centre - Melbicks - up near Birmingham Airport. Mum was quite amicable about that, and even teased me about the reason for me wanting to go there... She said that I only want to go there as there was a Cotton Traders store there. Partly that, and partly because it's one of the few garden centres in the area that isn't owned by Wyevale!

Well, the trip was a success. I managed to find a skirt (yes - it does happen - I do wear a skirt occasionally) and Mum manged to get some hyacinth bulbs for Christmas. But the best bit for me, was knowing that Mum is going to be OK, and that I can go and see my beloved tonight.

Ah well, guess I should log off and bog off - I've got to go and get ready to go out - a girl's got to look her best when she's seeing her beloved.

Back tomorrow...

Karen

I've been watching, I've been waiting
In the shadows for my time

Mea culpea

OK, so I failed miserably to keep the blog going. Partly because things were getting hectic (both in my personal and professional life) and I suffered a severe case of TNFI (totally no ******g interest).

So, a brief summary - I've been back to Madeira (and am escaping in September again) and have been lucky enough to find someone who means the whole world to me, and more to the point, has allowed me to relax enough and drop my guard. I've also bought myself a new car - a Peugeot 207 Sport 120... More on that in a later post...

Aside from that, Mum has had a partial hip replacement, and is now walking much better than she has been (i.e. seven and a half years ago since the accident). As for me, as I've said, I'm seeing someone who makes me blissfully happy, and helps me see that there is more to life than the playpen that I call an office...

Playpen. A good term for the office, and for certain members of staff. Including the one that sits next to me. She's so blinkered about life, it's not true. She's also of the misguided opinion that F1 is the be-all and end-all of motor sport and wont' even contemplate any criticism of Lewis Hamilton.

Don't get me wrong, he's a good driver, but he's been lucky. He's had a good car (i.e. reliable) and a good backup team. But what annoys me is that she just won't accept ANY negative comments and throws a real paddy when you try and say otherwise.

As you can tell, I'm not exactly a member of her fan club, and there have been suggestions that I bury the hatchet with her. I would do so, but I'm afraid that it would be in the back of her skull.

Ah well, guess I should think about doing some work, but I'm afraid I'm suffering from a severe case of TNFI....

Back later.

Karen

I've been watching, I've been waiting
In the shadows for my time

A new year, and fresh hopes

Well, Quentin is on the road to recovery, but is still very ill. Julian did have a New Year celebration - he spent it with Mum, me and a couple of close family friends, as Mum said that there was no way that he was going to spend New Year's eve on his own.

Me? Well I'm not quite sure what this year will bring me - apart from more surprises - especially where my beloved is concerned. But, I'll cross those bridges as and when I come to them - no point in trying to add stress and hassle to my life!

Guess I should call this quits - Jules is ready to head to the hospital to see Quentin, and I said I'd go as well...

Back when I get chance..

Karen

I've got nowhere left to hide
It looks like love has finally found me