Testing, testing 1-2-3

So, who's still out there?  Have you missed me?  Don't think because I haven't written anything that I haven't had you all on my mind - along with lots of other things ... I have a doozy of a post brewing :0(

The creature from the pink lagoon

I've always been a hefty lass but being about 5' 9" I've always been able to carry it well. That was until I had a kidney transplant and endured 12 months of steroid therapy afterwards. Combine that with being thrust prematurely into the menopause and it's a recipe for disaster - for my waistline anyway. Post-transplant/hysterectomy I have gained over 25 kilos, in old money that's nearly 60 lbs or 4 stone!

Hurrumph.

Since we decided we would go for our big return to normal life with a fabulous holiday to Florida I have been desperately trying to shift the weight, fearing the humiliation of being stuck in my plane seat for 7 hours or worse being booted off like Silent Bob for being too damn big.

Thus my exercise of choice has been swimming. We swim twice a week at a privately owned pool. It costs about £10 to hire for an hour but being the only two people in at any given time it is worth the cost. Plus there's a jacuzzi.

Cap'n Scarlet has become worryingly obsessed with my weight loss or lack thereof (actually, I have managed to shift about 3 kgs but it isn't coming off as quickly as he would like which is actually really getting me down because actually I self-flagellate over my inabilities enough for the both of us already actually, I don't actually need extra criticism from him but that's another story, actually).

I am calm. Soooo, this week I added a solo extra session while he was out line dancing. Yes you read that right, line dancing. In the words of Forrest Gump that is all I have to say about that.

Last night I arrived at the home of my friend the pool owner to discover that she had had a Valentine party over the weekend. Nothing unusual about that you might think but she had in fact also spiced up the pool.

It had been dyed a a dark red. Now 3 days later the pool was a cloudy magenta. My swimming goggles are blue which meant that I was effectively swimming in dark purple water. Creepy? I should cocoa, especially when I kept encountering the kids' toys which were being dislodged from their lurking places by my fevered thrashing.

Valentine's Day? More like the Texas Chain Saw Massacre. I'm going again tonight, at least I won't be alone, at least I shall have a superfit line dancer with me to fend off the nasties.

Work in progress

I thought it was time for a face lift. I still need to move some stuff around, a bit of judicious culling here and there, and I need to add links to my virtual jewellery/craft shop which is also under construction.

I am trying to follow my bliss and get out of my office job. I was given a wonderful gift from Cap'n Scarlet and I want to get out and enjoy life without being tethered to a desk. Life is just too short to be devoting so much energy to working for 'The Man'.

If you like any jewellery already displayed and would like to buy it, or have it made in another colour, or want something custom made please just let me know.

Woohoo! The big 13100!

Quiet news day in Twisted Pines.

Bead all about it

So I mentioned that I've been making jewellery, here's something I made today - a necklace made with an oversized carved rose quartz butterfly and pale pink glass pearls. Very girlie.



Oh what the heck, i can't tease you with that, here are a few more made in the last couple of months:

Cobwebs and mildew

That's all I have to offer to those who might have been lured here by a small brown bear with a heart as soft as caramel. Have a read by all means, one day I shall pick up where I left off but it's really difficult, daunting even when so much has happened in the last 18 months ... where do I start?

First off I'm alive and reasonably well. My transplanted kidney is working beautifully. I still get kick out of having a full bladder and having a damn good pee. Unless you've been in the position of not peeing anymore you probably can't see the attraction but every time I have one I breathe a sigh of satisfaction.

I recently tore something in my knee and am waiting for an MRI to see what exactly has come loose. Captain Scarlet and I were looking forward to our first proper holiday in 4 years - 2 weeks in sunny Florida with Mickey and the gang - but we have postponed until September. Ironically I need to build up some stamina before we go away because uur holidays in Florida usually equate to yomping with the SAS across Wales and we generally need a good lie down at the end of each day, sadly at the moment I can barely hobble round Sainsbury's.

That's it for now. Oh I forgot, I now make jewellery and will post some pictures of my "creations". Really that's it, I'm all out of fresh thoughts. Thanks for following the Hobnob crumbs to my place.

Promised you a miracle

Note to self, never, ever publish your New Year's resolutions ... bad juju.

Hi folks, I'm still alive - still recovering from the transplant, I've had a few setbacks with illness (physical and mental) but trying valiantly to get my mojo back.

Watch this space - I will write more extensively over the weekend.

Meanwhile thanks to all my blogpals who have sent me things, both through the post and online, to cheer me up. Zoe - how could I have missed the new animated Captain Scarlet series???? Bob, Helena & Dilly - I got your cards, they were lovely! I tried emailing but I don't think you ever got the messages? Maybe you don't use the account anymore (Red Dwarf reference in the address ...?).

Anyhoo - toodle-pip.

CJ

Shiny New Year

I've never been one for making resolutions in the New Year but this morning I woke up (early) feeling that I need to this time. They're all technically achievable but we're talking about me here remember.

1. I resolve to get more out of life. I will go out more. I will accept more social invitations. I will do things that I fancy doing but normally reject as waste of time/effort/money.

2. I resolve to take better care of my body. I will lose some weight and I will exercise regularly. I will eat better. I will moisturise my body more often and I will remember to wear sunblock since I'm immunosuppressed and have a high risk of developing skin cancer. I will drink less alcohol and more water - alcohol is a depressant, it's calorific, expensive and most of all it doesn't solve any of my problems (such a shame that Absolut Raspberri and K Cider taste so gooood ... not together I hasten to add).

3. I resolve to blog more often and to visit my blogpals more frequently.

4. I resolve to manage my time better. I will get to work on time and finish on time. I will tidy the house more often so that it doesn't take me a whole weekend to do leaving me more time to do things I want to do.

See? All perfectly achievable. I've even blogged already, I'm off for a snack and a well deserved drink ... of tea.

Annus horribilis

Yoo hoo, long time no see. I've been putting off writing until I had a fairy tale ending for you but all I've had this year is horror stories.

Started off this year with my Dad hospitalised for 2 weeks with pneumonia while I struggled to take care of my poor dotty Mum. Then I had precancerous cells found in my womb and I had a hysterectomy. It looked promising later when my lovely Capt Scarlet donated me a kidney, technically it has a happy ending but it was such a struggle to recover from that some of the gloss kind of wore off.

I went back to work in October and initially I surprised myself by being ecstatic at being back but that soon fizzled out when I discovered that someone had been moved into the office I was intending to occupy and she's making a play for my job too.

In late November my Mum was hospitalised with a urinary tract infection and malnutrition compunded by Parkinson's Disease with Lewy Body Dementia (yes I actually found out that her dementia has a name).

Last week my Dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer which has spread to his bones. Yesterday he called me to say he was feeling really poorly with a tight chest and I instantly thought with his history and based on the amount of stress he's been through lately that he was in line for a heart attack again - after I called NHS Direct he ended up being taken to A&E by ambulance but was later discharged with some super-strong antibiotics for a chest infection.

At about 10:20 last night an hour after the Capt & I got home from dropping Dad back at his home, and here's the real kick in my figurative goolies, I got a call from the hospital to tell me that Mum had died a few minutes earlier.

I'd visited Mum earlier in the evening while Dad was still being assessed and she was very poorly indeed. There was nothing I could do for her but stroke her head and talk to her as she's been non-responsive for days and could no longer eat or drink. I whispered in her ear that I love her and always will, I told her that I would take care of Dad and if she couldn't bear the struggle anymore then it was OK to let go now. Then I left her and 2 hours later she was gone.

I haven't been a very giving Blogger over the last year, I'm sorry that I've missed out on most of your lives for a while and I want to say that I truly appreciate the comments and support that have been made while I've been too self-absorbed to reply.

A geek tragedy

In the old days before Britannia ruled the waves, even before William the Conqueror pitched up in Pevensey Bay, man's world was ruled by a group of megalomaniacs living on Mount Olympus.

In those days, Zeus, overlord of Olympus, was quite the deity-about-town. In fact no Naiad, Dryad, high priestess or mortal woman was safe from his wandering hands. His current squeeze, was a sea nymph by the name of Merope. Zeus thought so much of her that when she fell gravely ill he gave her one of his own kidneys.

Now when Hera, Zeus' wife and sister (eeeuw) heard about this she flew into a terrible jealous rage, she was used to his little peccadilloes but giving away his kingly kidney really takes the biscuit. Hera captured Merope and chained her to some rusty bedsprings that were teetering on the edge of a high precipice clinging to the side of Mount Olympus.

For 3 weeks Merope was chained there, terrified that she might fall and damage the precious gift that Zeus had given her. All the while Hera pelted her with with strong tablets, her friends and family came to see her to offer comfort but poor Merope was too delirious to hear them. When Merope's loved ones had finally gone away, Hera sent her pet cuckoo to slash Merope's belly open to expose the kidney. The cuckoo tried to peck the organ out but the kidney was sewn in beyond its reach.

Hera didn't like the mess that Merope's exposed innards were making on the bedsprings so she decided to torture Merope with a device instead. Hera ordered that Merope should have a vacuum pump that weighed 5 lbs connected to her wound to suck out Merope's life. For 8 weeks Merope could see her life ebbing away through the 10 foot hose that connected her belly to the pump.

She almost gave up. She told her best friend from work what a terrible time she was having and what dark thoughts she was entertaining, maybe her friend would stay a while and keep her company, keep her sane. Alas the friend went away and never came back. But Zeus kissed her forehead and whispered to her to be strong. And she was.

After the 2 months of torture, capricious Hera grew bored and cut Merope loose. Asclepius tended to her wounds every day and will continue to do so until she is strong in body and mind again.

She's almost there.

Having an offal time

Howdy folks! Thanks for all your messages, very much appreciated to know that people out there give a damn. Please stop worrying though, the kidney is in and working very well in itself - actually it's a corker and I'm peeing for England at the Olympics next month.

We've both had a few complications, the whole exercise has been far more difficult than either the Capt or myself were expecting it to be. The mental & emotional aspect has also been far more challenging than I anticipated so I haven't felt particularly motivated to blog.

Well that's the Reader's Digest version, I'll be back with the War & Peace ediiton at another time. Just wanted to let you know that I'm still around, just licking my wounds and keeping a low profile for a bit.

How do you solve a problem like urea?

I've been working on a little playette for your amusement for several days now, well not exactly days, a couple of hours here and there, you know. Anyway I've been been meaning for ages to tell you all about the dialogue that goes on day in day out at the dialysis unit in the mornings which is nigh on predictable. Truth is, playwriting seemed to be a doddle when I was teenager, but the sheer mechanics of this dialogue lark is taking some time so I've decided to present an unfinished version. You see the whole point was to say, "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Urea?" And then provide the answer which is to Have A Kidney Transplant.

I'm having one. Next Tuesday, June 17th. Eeep.

So now, for one week only, here it is in all its truncated glory (and maybe I will explore the chararacters further for you at a later date. Or maybe not. Who knows? Who cares? I'm having a kidney transplant!):

D R A M A T I S...P E R S O N A E

The Patients

Calamity Jane (Our Hapless Heroine)

Mortimer (Master of the Dark)

Carrie (Baker of Cakes)

Ralf (Mucously Challenged)

Dieter (Mr Fidget)

Molly (Ninja Bingo Granny)

Dora (The Knitter)

Daffyd (The Gourmand)

Don (The Strong Silent Type)

Kevin (Denial Central)

Fred (The Epitome of Patience

The Staff

Sister Mac (Fountain of All Knowledge)

Sister Sailor (The Mighty Atom)

Staff Nurse Cook (Thomas' More Traveled Sister)

Staff Nurse Wynn (Lover of Fine Wines)

Others

Ron (Carrie's Brother)

Snorkel (The Cleaner)

Bed 8 (Bed of Doom)

ACT 1

(07:30 AM, a hospital ward. All the Patients except Calamity Jane and Carrie are seated on their hospital bed-chairs. Miscellaneous beeping, swooshing and mechanical noises can be heard. Staff can be seen bending over patients attending to their needs.

Calamity Jane enters stage left)

CALAMITY JANE: Morning everyone!

(a staggered chorus of "morning Jane" begins from everyone in the room)

DAFFYD: Morning Jane. Late again eh?

CALAMITY JANE: Well not really Daffyd, you know the unit doesn't actually open until 7:30. I don't see the point in sitting around for 45 minutes waiting to be put on.

DAFFYD: We get brought here for 7 o'clock tha knows.

CALAMITY JANE: I know but I drive myself so I can come when I like

MOLLY: It's a long ol' job today Jane. Oi hent been put on yet and Oi've been here since korter to 7.

CALAMITY JANE: Sorry Molly, I know your driver picks you up early.

MOLLY: He's a horrible man, it make me savage. Shouldn't say the things to an old lady the way it do.

CALAMITY JANE: I know, Moll, you can can always request a different driver you know

(KEVIN starts to snore very loudly)

MOLLY: (conspiratorially) He's in a bad way today. Coughing up blood he was this morning.

CALAMITY JANE: Oh dear that's not good, I suppose he had a lot of fluid on did he?

MOLLY: Six litres! He's going to kill hisself if he carries on like that.

(Sister Mac comes over to Calamity Jane)

SISTER MAC: Morning dear, how are you?

CALAMITY JANE: I'm fine how are you? Dropped any fans on a patient lately?

SISTER MAC: OhAhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahah not lately!

MOLLY: (speaking to Fred who is seated next to Calamity Jane) Oi can't believe they're putting her on before they put me on. She's only just got here!

FRED: Yes Molly but she does longer than you so she needs to get on before you

MOLLY: Oi've been waiting here since Oi got here to be put on

FRED: Yes, Molly but the drivers pick us up too early, Jane can drive herself

(Staff Nurse Cook comes over to Dolly)

MOLLY; (Sotto voce) It's about toime. Jane's just got here and they're putting her on already.

STAFF NURSE COOK: I know Moll, but she does 3½ hours and you only do 3 - you'll be off before her don't worry.

MOLLY: I knew her since she was born you know.

STAFF NURSE COOK: Yeah?

MOLLY: She grew up round the corner from where Oi lived. Her sister was my Terri's bridesmaid.

STAFF NURSE COOK: Oh? Anything good in your magazine today Molly?

MOLLY: Oh that bloody thing. Mortimer brings me that every toime. Says in there someone found her husband's thing in the drawer you know. Oi think they tell lies you know.

STAFF NURSE COOK: Someone's thing in a drawer? Is there a picture?

MOLLY: Oi think they make up them stories just so they can make some money. Whoever heard of such a thing? Oi think they tell lies you know.

STAFF NURSE COOK: Well you've been around for a while haven't you? What are you now? 91?

MOLLY: Yeah nointy-one.

STAFF NURSE COOK: Well you're doing really well then being on dialysis at 91.

MOLLY: When I first started I used to get through 3 changes of clothes. I used be sick and pee meself I was so ill.

STAFF NURSE COOK: Ah well you're alright now aren't you?

(Staff Nurse Wynn comes over with a cup of coffee for Molly)

STAFF NURSE WYNN: Hic! Ooops nearly spilled it then Molly!

MOLLY: Don't go spilling my coffee! I need that. I hent had a drink all weekend you know

(Sister Sailor bustles over to Daffyd)

SISTER SAILOR: I'm just going to measure your blood sugar, Daffyd.

DAFFYD: Oh I can tell you what it is, it's normal.

CALAMITY JANE: Oh yeah just like your temperature then Daffyd? Normal.

DAFFYD: Exactly. Normal.

SISTER SAILOR: Well it's 5.4 millimols

DAFFYD: Do I get a fruit pastille then?

SISTER SAILOR: No you're not low enough for that

DAFFYD: But I'm not allowed to drive if it's below 6

CALAMITY JANE: Just as well you're not driving today then eh? Like normal.

DAFFYD: Heh heh. I have to try. I'm not a man to complain, me.

KEVIN: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!

(A strange screeching can be heard off in the wings)

FRED: Allo, the Queen's arrived

(Enter Carrie)

CARRIE: Morning everybody!

(A staggered chorus of "Morning Carrie" replies)

CARRIE: Morning Molly bolly, how are you

MOLLY: Oh I'm better than Kevin. (conspiratorially) He's in a bad way today. Coughing up blood he was this morning.

CARRIE: He had a lot of fluid on did he?

MOLLY: Six litres! He's going to kill hisself if he carries on like that.

CARRIE: Yeah

MOLLY: (Sotto voce) And they put Jane on before me and I was here ages before her. I knew her mother you know. Terrible frump, no dress sense

CALAMITY JANE: (mutters to Sister Mac) Yeah well it didn't stop your husband standing gawping at her through the fence and playing pocket billiards now did it, you mean old bag

MOLLY: (Smiling ingratiatingly over at CJ) I'll give 'er Molly Bolly. How is your Mum and Dad these days?

Twinkletoes

Is there anybody there? Knock once for yes, twice for no.

I've been extraordinarily busy just lately, hence no posts for a month. I'm not going to explain why, I'm saving that for another post. Big news, but it can wait until I've crafted it into one of my usual masterpieces [cough].

Today I tell you about the time that my boss borrowed my socks which by a curious happenstance was actually today.

Picture this: he's in his office with the door closed because he's getting changed into his mess dress uniform because he's off to the big Airmen's Leadership School Graduation. Big party. Officer's Club. Lots of brass expected. Very formal event.

He cries "Oh My God!" behind the closed door. I shout "What?" he comes out and says that he didn't bring an undershirt. "Oh" I say dumbly, not much I can do about that since I'm not packing white vests into my supersecretary-almost-ready-for-anything handbag. Note to self, remember to pack a wife-beater tomorrow just in case.

He disappears again. "Crap!" He opens the door again "I haven't got any socks either".

Actually he's wearing socks but they're olive green and don't really go with shiny black shoes and Air Force blue trews. I jokingly offered him my socks and took off my boots to show him. "Jane, they're black! Will you let me wear them?"

Oh boy.

I splutter that I've been wearing them all day and they're, well, you know, sweaty. "That doesn't matter" he insists. I point out that they're err not actually a pair either. "Not a problem, they're black, they're fine. Give them to me". I comply and he returns to his office to dress.

A few moments later he emerged resplendent in his smart mess dress. He lifts up his trouser legs to show me the general effect and I almost die laughing over the fact that on one ankle he has in sparkly fake diamante the word "Foxy" and on the other "Star".

Spies like us (PG 13)

Forgive me for my lengthy absence, honestly I'm fine. I've just been a little spooked by the discovery that someone has attached something to my blog that tracks my every Internet move. I keep seeing this dgz.specificclick.et net address keep showing in the bottom left as my blog is loading. Allegedly its source is Sitemeter who allegedly have sold out to some spyware collective bastardy people so that's about to be given the royal order of the boot.

Bastards have kept me off the net for a couple of weeks because I thought I had a virus attached to my blog, which was compounded by the fact that I've had spam from every bank in the land except the one I actually bank with asking me to verify my account. Paranoia ain't the word for it.

I shouldn't be typing this while 3 sheets to the wind but what the heck, I'll look back on this in a couple of days and groan. We'll see if all the links work in the morning.

I went to the doctors, I've got pills for depression. Nothing too strong. He cracked me up, I haven't met this guy before and I gave him my potted medical history and he was a sweetie, tutting in all the right places. Eventually he said, "I suppose you're really fucked off with life then aren't you?" I said "that's an accurate assessment". I think he knew a thing or two about being fucked off, he looked like he'd had a stroke or Bell's Palsy or something. Bless him, he even wanted to sign me off work for a bit longer (I wish I'd taken him up on that now).

So, pills, I'm actually feeling a tad better, a little bit more cheerful, a bit more human, part from today after a run in with my cnut of a boss. God I hope my Dad doesn't figure out how to get back here.

My lump is supposedly nothing to be concerned about, it's a fatty lump called a lipoma from an injury or something. Thinking about it I do bump that bit into the oven door an awful lot.

The cough is getting a bit better. Flares up now and then. It's worse when I'm on dialysis so I think my throat gets dry, that's all. No asthma, but thanks for suggesting that I should add it to my armoury of ailments guys :-)

Don't worry. I'm fine. I see someone called the Independent Assessor tomorrow. He's the final hurdle to jump before the transplant. He decides if we're well enough informed of what we're getting into, decides that I'm not coercing Capt Scarlet. I'll just tell him that I'll withold sex and home cooking forever more if I don't get the bloody kidney. We'll see how that affects the decision. Hey ho. Seriously this is just a formality apparently, we're looking at June or July for the operation. Can't happen soon enough. When I'm fixed I'm quitting my job and opening a fancy dress hire shop. Seriously.

Amy can you move closer? I might have some work for you.

I'm really fucked off with my new boss. Fucked off. Twat. After 5 years of being the continuity in this squadron I'm no longer able to decide how I manage my work space. What I thought was my office is really only part of his 3 dimensional chess set. Wanker.

Lawks a mussy I'm going to regret this in the morning. Love y'all.

Eeny meeny miney mo

Anyone reading this blog could be forgiven for thinking that I'm a hypochondriac but the fact is I'm not. I hate being ill, I hate that I could be thought of as weak.

I was rarely ill as a child, I didn't get the normal childhood illnesses and I was 26 before I even had chickenpox (let me tell ya, chickenpox as an adult is nasty). The only time I was ill as child was when I was 11 and got the flu. Not just the rotten cold kind of flu, it was the all out disabling kind of flu.

A month or so after that bout of flu I started showing signs of diabetes - weeing a lot, ultra thirsty, losing weight. But Type 1 diabetes is insidious and no-one really noticed anything was wrong until the day I felt too ill to go to school. That day was a dramatic one, I started the day lying on the sofa feeling poorly but looking reasonably normal but by the end of the day I was a virtual skeleton, in a coma and hammering on death's door. Eventually after a botched diagnosis by a drunk doctor I ended up being rushed into hospital by ambulance complete with blues and twos and when I got there diabetes was swiftly diagnosed. I believe that flu virus weakened my pancreas.

So here I am enduring a lengthy sick leave following my hysterectomy. One of my goals on this sick leave was to spend a little time at my local GP's surgery getting a few niggling little things taken care of - yes in addition to my major problems I also suffer the things that normal people suffer with. Nothing earth shattering just a few things that I haven't had time to go to the doctors about because the big things take up too much time. It's a logistical challenge finding time to go to the doctor when you spend 15 hours a week attending the hospital for dialysis whilst trying to hold down a full time job and the doctors surgery is only open in the hours that I'm either at the hospital or at work.

I made an appointment over a week ago for next Friday, the rottweiler* on reception said that was the soonest they could fit me in unless I needed an emergency apointment. Well nothing I want to discuss could be considered an emergency so I meekly thanked her and now I'm cooling my heels waiting for Friday to roll around.

Now here's my problem, I have several things that I would like to sort out but I'm only allowed to discuss one problem per appointment.

1. I've had a dry, irritating cough for several months now. It's only a little tickle but when it flares up I end up coughing so much I'm almost sick. It usually strikes me at night and I wake up coughing several times during the course of the night. I'm also being woken every hour or so with night sweats caused by losing my ovaries which oh by the way has also affected my blood sugar levels causing me to wake sometimes with very low blood sugar. It all adds up to very little sleep. I'm so blooming tired all the time, I have huge bags under my eyes and the skin round my eyes is so dark sometimes it looks as if some deranged makeup artist has been attacking me with plum coloured eyeshadow. I think I'm almost through the hormonal rapids now so the cough is the last thing to be fixed.

2. A few weeks ago I discovered a lump on my arm. It's about the size of a halved gobstopper, slightly irregular but quite firm, not painful at all. I thought initially I must have bumped myself but no bruise has come out. Obviously as I had pre-cancerous cells in my womb requiring the hysterectomy I'm thinking the worst about this lump, it's human nature isn't it - to think the worst? I can't afford to wait and see because of the impending kidney transplant, any cancer treatment will kill the new kidney.

3. I have struggled for years with depression. I had treatment for post-natal depression but once I felt better I stopped taking the pills. It's been a downward trend ever since then. A few years ago I was prescribed antidepressants but as I read the blurb that comes with all medications these days I learned that the pills might bring on suicidal thoughts. WTF? They're supposed to make me feel better! I didn't take them and I've struggled gamely on since then. I seem to function on 2 different levels. When I'm at work I'm OK, my pride won't let me do a shitty job. But when I'm home alone on say a day off I drift around the house or watch telly, I can't bring myself to go out and do something interesting or useful.

Six weeks of sick leave has brought home to me just how depressed I am. Most people would be revelling in the time off work giving them freedom to do the things they enjoy. Well despite the fact that I healed fantastically after my surgery and was able to move around freely much sooner than expected, I have done virtually nothing other than sit and watch the blasted telly. I desperately want to do other things but I can't motivate myself to get off my lardy arse and do them. It's as though I'm paralysed, trapped in my own head. I love my garden and it's in dire need of work but I can't seem to drag myself out there to do it. I'm sick to death of being fat and unfit but I can't make myself get up and exercise. Even blogging has seemed too difficult for me to get my finger out and write about all the things on my mind. I need help and if that help has got to come in the form of another tablet then I'm finally prepared to give it a go.

There are other things that needed sorting too (my achy-breaky-grindy knees, the lumps in my hands - I also have this thing called Dupuytrens Contracture; the many spider nevus on my legs (but now I've done some internet research to find a link I'm a little worried about them), the early signs of varicose veins) but they all get bumped down in the order of importance.

See I'm not a hypochondriac at all, all this stuff is ginuwine. So anyway I need y'all to help me decide which problem I should get sorted first - please vote on thingy to the right of the page (I've been just dying to try one of these out for ages).

*I know it isn't fair to refer to the doctor's receptionst as a rottweiler, I happen to have met some perfectly lovely rottweilers in my time and they can't be compared to doctor's receptionists at all.

Sanity

I should really rename my blog Procrastination Time because I seem to spend most of my waking hours thinking about writing and updating my blog but I don't often get around to doing it. It's the story of my life really, too much time spent thinking, not enough time spent doing.

Some time ago, the lovely San, she of the wonderful writing and beautiful art, bestowed upon me a Gratitude with Attitude Award. I'm not sure I truly deserve it but I truly appreciate it.

I decided to do a little research and duly Yahood (like Googled just not spelled the same) Greatful Livin' as it appears on the award and and came up with the parent blog which is lovely and I shall be dropping in there from time to time in the future.

I think I'm supposed to pass it on to 12 other bloggers so I hereby present it to the next 12 people who comment. One at a time please ...

Update on the immigration issue

Further to my earlier post here's an article that appeared in one of the local newspapers yesterday. Click here

Assault with a deadly spoon

Calamity Jane. Never was a nickname more richly deserved. She could have chosen The Tasmanian Devil of course, apparently she closely resembles him when she's in a temper, but Calamity Jane suits her even when she's not in a strop.

Calamity Jane is the girl who fell off a dustbin at the age of 12 (trying to climb on a mate's shed roof). She struck her leg on edge of the dustbin with such on the fall downwards that she gave herself a bruise that wrapped around the entire top half of her leg and dislodged a chunk of fat that left a permanent bratwurst-sized lump on her outer thigh. It is the only part of her that she has considered having liposucked away.

Calamity Jane is the girl who skewered her palm, surprisingly enough with a skewer, while trying to pierce a conker. Calamity Jane is the girl who broke her foot on her husband's briefcase whilst racing down the stairs to answer the phone. Calamity Jane blew up her hob and fused an entire electrical circuit whilst cooking a Christmas ham.

Are we seeing a pattern here?

Calamity Jane is also the girl who yesterday broke her treasured, not to mention very expensive, laptop (Philips X52 12.1" widescreen which weighs a mere 1.8kg don'tcha know) with a dessertspoon. Indeed, as she was attempting to tidy up her not inconsiderable mess from the living room, to include discarded socks, books, mugs and ice cream bowls, a spoon from said ice cream bowl flew with great force and ricocheted into her beloved laptop thus smashing the LCD screen and leaving a jagged raspberry-ripple flavoured split. Captain S believes he can replace it but a brief survey of t'internet reveals that a new screen will cost in the region of 150 nicker.

She should be labeled with a health warning.

Healthy debate

It's not often that I stick my head above the parapet and write about something even vaguely political. There doesn't seem to be a lot of point when there are bloggers out there who are far more competent at it than I, usually I don't know what I'm talking about and I'm so empathetic that I see both sides of the argument. Plus a lot of my RAM is devoted to merely staying alive never mind taking on everyone else's troubles.

So here's something that involves politics and staying alive and I'm having trouble making up my mind where I stand on it as usual, not that my opinion will change anything which is another reason why I don't normally get involved. I'm rambling, sorry.

There is a patient at the dialysis unit who is an illegal immigrant. He came over here because he couldn't afford the healthcare in his own country. He's been here a few years and now he's going to be deported fairly soon. He can't afford dialysis in his own country but if he stops dialysing he will be dead within about 2 weeks.

Now I get royally pissed off when people come over here to freeload off the state. The NHS provides free quality healthcare, although it's not truly free of course because it is funded by taxes. I work bloody hard to stay at work and pay taxes whilst coping with a chronic illness. However, I cannot believe that my country would be so callous as to send someone off to what is a certain death. He shouldn't be here in the first place but we shouldn't be killing him. See my dilemma?

Tell me what you think - I've disabled the no anonymous comments setting so everyone who visits can join in for a change.

Growing old disgracefully

They say 40 is the new 30 and certainly in my head I'm 25, 28 tops. Unfortunately the rest of me says I'm 40 going on 75, these old dears have more energy and moves than I do today. I'm off to try and shake my ample booty to my new Davina workout DVD. Creak to you later.