Listen to the voice of Buddha

I christened my left big toe Phil Oakey today. Not you understand because it's being getting any love action of course, it's because somehow during a freak accident with the toenail clippers I managed to cut it so one side is a good quarter of an inch lower than the other side. I'm really bummed over this as I have a really hot pink nail polish that looks terrific on toenails. Maybe I should plant a story in Heat! magazine that wonky toenails are de rigeur in WAGland.

Anyway it was a fitting end to a week that started with me committing a quadruple murder (I really must find out how to add sound effects to this page, in my head the Deadwood Saloon's tinny pianny that plays when I'm here just stopped playing when I wrote that). Muhrrdah!

I arrived at the dialysis unit last Saturday to discover that a guy who I shall refer to as Private Joe Walker after the spiv in Dad's Army, had acquired 30 live lobsters and was selling them - 3 for a tenner. I hummed & hahed for a couple of hours before deciding that I would buy some. I've never tried lobster as it's always been too expensive so this seemed like a good opportunity.

Anyway Pvt Walker was finished before me so he bagged up the lobsters and one of the nurses stowed them in my car for me.

All the way home there was an agitated rustling coming from the back seat and when I arrived home I discovered that he'd given me 4 of the little blighters. Or should I say big blighters. Big lively blighters.

Gulp! I don't think I'll be able to go through with this!

I gave myself a stern talking to and decided that I wouldn't jump in the car again and drive off to Cromer to set them free - dammit I was going to cook them. All the same I felt so sorry for those cute little chaps - Claude, Klaus, Claudette & Claudia - I decided that while the water was boiling I would make them comfortable in a big bucket of rain water that was in the back garden. I even added some salt and played some Benjamin Britten to try and make them feel at home.

Apparently that was the worst thing I could have done for them (the rainwater not the Britten); it hastened their demise so I was spared the horror of lowering wriggling creatures into scalding water while bawling my eyes out and screeching "I'M SOOOO SOOORRRY!!!!" as each one went in.

I will never be the same again, I didn't think I had the capacity to deliberately kill something. Now I know I do ...

Trade test transmission

Stay tuned, normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. Meanwhile I've become a murdress and there's what looks like a lunar landing module in the back garden.

To the point

I just realised that my 100th post came and went unnoticed, I've also remembered that I haven't done a medical update for some time - this is Medication Time after all.

The big news is that I've been getting dialysed through needles in my arm a lot more often than through the catheter in my chest. This is great for me as it means I'm that much closer to getting the wretched catheter out of my chest. Once that happens and the hole heals up I can go swimming again or even go away on a beach holiday!

It also means that I don't need to have more surgery to create a different fistula - the one created in January appears to be going very well although the blood vessels are still small and deep, but with more needling they will eventually grow and come closer to the surface. It's a Catch 22 situation - you need to get the needles in to make the vessels grow, yet the vessels are too small for a needle.

Apologies to the squeamish, but ... tough shit. If I have to deal with this then so do you. Ooh I could crush a grape I feel that assertive.

Vindicated

Yup. Now there's documentary proof that Captain Scarlet's birthday treat is bad for my health. Ptooey!

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/afp/20070509/thl-us-heatlh-cancer-0b0437e.html

7 Random Things

I've been tagged by my dear cyber pal Shaz (does that count as a random thing?)

1. I used to work in a public library. Great place apart from the fusty old WI crowd who also worked there who looked down their noses at me.

2. I handpainted every single paving slab in my garden. I sought the services of an osteopath soon after.

3. I've never seen Dirty Dancing and have no desire to do so.

4. My most cherished ambition next to seeing the Earth from space or to drive a double decker bus at Silverstone is to be a published (read paid) writer.

5. I adore Tommy Lee Jones and Ed Harris. You can keep Brad Pitt.

6. I have a Teach Yourself Conversational Klingon book and the technical specifications manual of the USS Enterprise (the starship not the aircraft carrier).

7. I've already made my will and bought my burial plot.


I hereby tag, ummm, I haven't sown my cyber oats as far as some so it looks like it will be ... DQ and Kai

They're he-ere!

I found myself with an extra half hour on my hands this morning so rather than blog about the construction project ie the garden, which will take too much time (sorry Shaz - maybe later today), I will tell you about the odd goings on in my kitchen at night.

About a week ago just after midnight, I woke to find that I was having a hypo - low blood sugar - so I staggered downstairs to have something to eat to bring my blood sugar back up. As I sat at the table sleepily dunking biscuits in a glass of milk, one of Captain Scarlet's watches started to beep. He keeps at least 3 digital watches on top of the microwave at any one time so I had to paw through them to find the right one to shut it off. When I told him about it in the morning he was adamant that he hadn't set the alarm.

A couple of days later I was again sitting at the kitchen table, this time testing my blood sugar before going to bed at about 10:30. Another watch started alarming, a different one this time. Again I asked Capt S if he had set the alarm and again he said no.

On Friday night Capt S walked into the kitchen and a completely different watch started to alarm. I'd made a point of checking that all the watches were set not to alarm yet it happened again! WTF is going on? Do we have a poltergeist? It's all very spooky.

Ground rules

I wish to apologise to my faithful band of readers who log in daily to see what I've written only to discover that I haven't written a bloody thing. Sorry.

I have a life that precludes regular dispatches on the old blogarama thing. In fact I have gone to such lengths as to draw up a plan for every waking hour to assist with the management of said busy, but ultimately dull life. Unfortunately I drew up this plan in winter and the slot I reserved for blogging fell between 5.50 pm and 6.30 pm which now the weather has been brilliant and the evenings longer, I have pinched for gardening.

I feel most at peace with myself when I'm pottering around in the garden. That's not to say that I have a great garden because I don't. Actually it's like a bomb site at the moment because Captain Scarlet has ripped out his old wooden workshop with my greenhouse attached and is in the process of digging the footings for a new improved brick workshop and brick-base greenhouse.

But I digress. Gardens, plants, wildlife - I love it out there. I'm actually considering starting a Royal Horticultural Society course in Garden Design and then I will work towards a Diploma in Horticulture.

Now I just need to work that into the schedule somehow, something's gotta give - will it be the exercise slot or the weekend blogging spot ... hmmm, tough choice.