Smells like teen spirit

I need to enlist the help of all you ladies (any guys reading can consider themselves honorary ladies only without all the monthly hormone surges and all that goes with them).

You may recall from my previous post that I absolutely loathe the scent of musk. Well, by a strange coincidence, upon my return from the dialysis unit today I discovered on my doorstep a little gift box of Body Shop Musk. By a process of elimination I have concluded that it must have been left there by sister-in-law F because my mother-in-law is far too cheap to get me something like that just for being poorly, besides she brought me 2 perfectly good jigsaws from the charity shop last week, and SIL M gave me an identical gift box for Christmas.

I am at the point where I feel I really need to say something. For one thing these kind and very sweet girls are wasting their money buying me something that's going to end up down the charity shop. For another I'm fed up with my Christmas presents ending up down the charity shop.

A few years ago I confided to SIL F that I hated the smell of musk. At this point she hadn't ever bought me any, it was her mother who was the main culprit buying me Jovan Musk all the time. I fully expected word to get back to MIL if not the other SIL. Well MIL seemed to stop buying it for me but I ended up with musk from both SILs for Christmas.

One year I took a set back to the Body Shop for exchange but the assistant said it wasn't worth anything because they hadn't had that particular gift set in for a couple of years. So to add insult to injury I'm obviously getting my SIL's cast-offs because she doesn't like it either!

So, what do I do, say something or smile sweetly and quietly flog it off on Ebay?

The 39 steps

Due to the fact that I've been a recluse for the last 2 weeks or so, I have very little to write about so I thought I'd do a 39 Things About Me list - one for each birthday. I know these things are incredibly narcissist but can't you say that about all us bloggers?

1. I played the clarinet at school. One of the great regrets of my life is that I flogged mine to pay for driving lessons.
2. I bought my first house when I was 18.
3. My favourite fragrance is Van Cleef by Van Cleef and Arpels.
4. My least favourite fragrance is musk. One whiff makes me want to heave yet each Christmas my mother-in-law or one of my sisters-in-law will buy me some despite me having actually told one of my SILs that I hate it!!
5. I'm pretty good at improvisation (like what they do on Whose Line Is It Anyway?)
6. I used to be a lifeguard.
7. My favourite food is funnel cake. Freshly cooked doughnuts will do instead at a pinch.
8. I hate coffee.
9. I paid off the mortgage on my third house 2 years ago.
10. Although I love cats, every knick-knack, calendar, picture, card, mug does not have to be cat themed.
11. I'm fascinated by plants and trees but I'm a terrible gardener.
12. My best physical feature must be my eyelashes. They're very long and dark - I'm frequently asked if they're real.
13. I grew up in a house with the number 13. Never did me any harm, ahem.
14. My favourite flowers are sunflowers and lilies. Roses in my opinion are overrated.
15. I've had 12 surgical operations.
16. I consistently score highly on internet IQ tests, according to them with my IQ I must be a genius but of course I take that with a pinch of salt.
17. My other nickname is Maverick. I haven't got a clue why.
18. My favourite alcoholic drink is vodka, freshly squeezed lime juice and slimline tonic, all preferably frozen until slushy. My favourite soft drink is actually sparkling spring water.
19. I have a poster signed by all the boys at Orange County Choppers.
20. I collect russian dolls and camels. My favourite doll is only about 3.5 inches high but she has 9 others inside her with the smallest being the size of a coffee bean.
21. I can speak a little Polish, Russian, and German. I used to be very good at French at school but I've never had the opportunity to use it since.
22. I have an odd ornament on my book shelf - it's an upper engine mounting bolt from an F-15E engine.
23. The first place I ever visited outside the UK was New Zealand. We flew in a Boeing 767 and had to refuel 3 times before we got there. It took almost 36 hours and almost put me off air travel for life.
24. I've been to the US of A 7 times, twice to California, 5 times to Florida.
25. My favourite colour is purple but I've learned that it looks terrible on me and on my walls.
26. My favourite authors are Patricia Cornwell and Thomas Harris.
27. My favourite movie is Space Cowboys.
28. I've had 17 jobs - the longest time with one employer is 7 years, the shortest is 4 hours.
29. My favourite album of all time has to be Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of The War of The Worlds.
30. I almost met Richard Branson once, it was after the worst Virgin flight we'd ever had (lads behind us were beyond intoxicated and were still being given booze)and Mr Branson had been on the same flight. He scurried off (and I mean scurried) as we were trying to catch him to complain.
31. I hate watching sport and listening to people discussing it.
32. I've 'flown' in Boeing 747 and F-15 training simulators.
33. I've fed blue mau-mau on frozen peas.
34. I was in the school choir.
35. Whenever I visit the beach I have to come home with either pebbles or seashells or holy of holies, sea glass - pieces of glass worn smooth by the sea.
36. Whenever I have boiled eggs I have to puncture the empty shells to stop the witches sailing away in them.
37. I've wrestled an alligator. OK so it was only about 10" long and it wasn't really wrestling ...
38. I passed my driving test first time.
39. I rebuilt and restored a 1973 VW Beetle (not ALL by myself of course)

Today I will be mostly choosing the cactus

Just a quick cut and paste jobbie today rather than a lengthy discourse on things close to my heart ie me. Despite the fact that I chose this picture because I love sunsets and saguaro cacti, I think this actually sums me up quite accurately.

Your Personality Profile

You are funky, outdoorsy, and down to earth. While you may not be a total hippie... You're definitely one of the most free spirited people around. You are very impulsive - every day is a new adventure. However, you do put some thought behind all your actions. Still, you do tend to shock and offend people from time to time!

http://www.blogthings.com/worldsshortestpersonalitytest/">The World's Shortest Personality Test

The code seems to be cracked (ha ha) and takes you to a different page, here's the cypher (good job I test these things innit?):

http://www.blogthings.com/worldsshortestpersonalitytest/

Sad Dragon

I had my first unsupervised outing since my surgery today. I took a walk down to visit the giant who is holding the high street of our small town in a full-nelson and squeezing the life out of it ... Tesco in other words. It's only a 10 minute walk so I wrapped up well and headed off.

I only needed a couple of things, basically I only went out to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. I was queuing at the cigarette kiosk because it was quicker than going through the main tills, I looked over at the papers and was horrified to see on the front page of the local paper a news story about someone from my squadron. He's been jailed for 2 years.

I can't remember how long ago it was but I know the investigations have been running for some time, this man was involved in a car accident which left 2 people dead. It was a head on collision, from what little I know about it, he was overtaking another car when he smashed into a car coming in the opposite direction. I don't believe this was reckless driving but more a serious error in judgement by a man unfamilar with our roads while driving a lefthand drive vehicle - he had his own family in the car with him at the time and his wife was seriously injured.

I feel desperately sorry for the loss of a mother and her daughter. Nothing can mitigate that loss and I'm not sure sending a decent man to jail for 2 years balances the books.

Discuss?

PS Sad Dragon because my squadron is called the Green Dragons. Although a lot of them piss me off from time to time I am fiercely loyal to them and consider myself the Dragon Den Mother.

Worshipping at the Temple of 3BT

I promised Clare a couple of months ago that I would try harder with the 3BT concept, so here goes.

1. My house is tidy because my parents-in-law have threatened to visit. MIL does not subscribe to my housework doctrine of clean enough to be healthy, untidy enough to be happy. She hoovers every day, cleans her oven every week and I suspect that she even polishes her apples. I cleared up the clutter but didn't manage to vacuum as the vacuum cleaner was upstairs and I can't manage it down the stairs one-handed. They just had to sit in squalor.

2. My parents -in-law arrived an hour later than they said they would.

3. My parents-in-law leaving.

Book Report - Ugly

I just finished reading Ugly by Constance Briscoe. Once I picked it up I literally couldn't put it down, not so much because it was enjoyable but because it certainly was compelling. It makes for very distressing reading at times but there are occasions when I found myself smiling, even some of the unsavoury moments have a hint of comic absurdness so I just couldn't help myself.

Here's a link to a Sunday Times interview with the author which details some of the highlights of the book http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2092-1985687_1,00.html . The interview is worth a read if nothing else.

Borborygmi 'n' blues

It has been my experience that following any surgery there follows a period of depression. I'm on that slippery slope now, I'm feeling bored and miserable. Physically I feel much better than I did last week but I'm still not able to use my right hand properly yet. I'm looking forward to a proper meal, not only am I unable to cook but I have difficulty managing cutlery, to which the sofa if it could talk would attest, so I've been eating a lot of sandwiches. Bleh.

You may be wondering about the borborygmi, cool word isn't it? I think it's a word that Word Imp over at Word Imperfect might be interested in. It's quite onomatopoeic too. In my belly right now it sounds like there's a giant in there yelling :

Boooooorrrrrboooorrrrryyyyygggggmmuuuuuusssssss!!!!!!

That's right - things have started working again. I've had many weeks where there has been no tangible activity, not even a bottom burp, other than the occasional diamond studded rabbit pellet.

Unh huh, thank you very much.

On being held at needle point

When I arrived at dialysis last night there were sharp intakes of breath and much oohing and aahing all round as the nurses looked at my arm. It is a bit of a spectacle I have to admit. The back of my hand looks as though I've been dip dyed with my knuckles being darkest and the colours graduating through blue, purple and green up towards my wrist.

The hairy side of my arm is a revolting jaundiced yellow. The underside is multiple shades of purple and working back down to my palm, well that's actually quite pretty and rather like marble with the usual healthy flesh colour being shot through with pink and blue.

Of course at the centre of it all is the wound itself which is surrounded by vivid pinky-red skin because it it most definitely infected. Sister Mac said I needed to peel off the Dermabond myself so it could be swabbed.

Another sharp intake of breath but it's hard to refuse when someone's waving a 1 & a half inch large bore needle at you.

So peel it off I did and I nearly passed out in the process. Imagine trying to peel off sunburnt skin when it's about 2mm thick and stuck down with superglue. I'm seeing stars just writing about it.

A little later I was supposed to start an infusion of intravenous antibiotic. It was being administered by Nurse Blusher who was being assessed on the task by Sister Mac. Sister Mac whispered to me that I had to refuse to have the drug as a test for Nurse Blusher. I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it but remember Sister Mac is the one with the large bore needles, so I agreed.

Nurse Blusher went through her strict routine step by step and when it came to the point where she had to ask me if I agreed to receiving the drug, I just launched in to my spiel of having thought about things and really I'm already taking 2 oral antibiotics I didn't really want to take the IV one as well especially as it is so urotoxic (kills off the kidneys), blah blah blah.

The poor girl just went red (hence her code name) and asked me if I was joking. I managed to keep a straight face and kept up the charade with some input from Sister Mac until she went through the protocol that she was being tested on.

Fortunately she passed and Sister Mac said I deserved an Oscar. Who says you can't have fun when you're ill?

Puss 'n' boots

I treated myself to a new pair of boots a couple of weeks ago, Dougal thought the box was tailor made for him.

Sealed with a twist

I'm now 4 days post-op and the swelling and bruising is improving slowly. My hand is no longer the size of a small boxing glove and is now merely a subtle shade of zombie-skin grey. I can type a little better, previously I had to employ the hunt-and-peck method with the index finger on my right hand but now I'm almost back to my lightning fast touch typing speed.

The wound on my wrist however is infected. It's livid (not to mention slightly annoyed) and very sore. I rather freaked out my GP when I went to see her yesterday to ask for some antibiotics, she was worried that I was developing gangrene due to the funny colour of my hand but thankfully we established that it was just bruising.

The interesting thing about this op is that it wasn't dressed with anything afterwards. Instead they sealed it with something called Dermabond which is a clear glaze that sets hard over the incision site protecting it from contamination. It also saves you from having to pfaff around with dressings (which is great for me because the adhesives really irritate my skin) and allows you to take a shower. Supposedly it peels off after a week or so.

In this instance it appears to have sealed in an infection. Just for once it isn't my dodgy aftercare that's done it, more worryingly I could have got it from the surgeon or theatre. Even if I had the bacteria on my skin to begin with I was practically hosed down in antiseptic before the surgery began. However it happened, now I have it it'll be a bugger to get rid of. Diabetics are human sized petri dishes for bacteria to thrive on.

I expect to have the Dermabond removed this afternoon at dialysis because I need to swabbed in order to establish what kind of infection is going on. I'm not looking forward to that as I strongly suspect it will be painful.

Incisive wit

Picture this: you're lying there on the narrow surgical table, draped and prepped for surgery. Your arm, out of sight behind the drapes, is flooded with local anaesthetic (which incidentally hurts like !*$& as it goes in) , the theatre assistants are surfing Match.com and soft music is playing in the background.

Feeling a little anxious you desperately search for something to focus on other than what's going on on the other side of the drapes. Your mind tunes in to what's actually playing in the CD player.

Ooh goody, a collection from the 70's ... Roberta Flack and Killing Me Softly ... The 3 Degrees and When Will I See You Again? ... Boston with More Than A Feeling ... Blue Oyster Cult and Don't Fear The Reaper ...

Eeeeek!!

Count Fistula; The Reawakening

Tomorrow morning I go in for more surgery, on my right wrist this time. Hopefully this fistula will be a success. I'm worried that a. it's not going to work just like the one in my left wrist and b. it will bugger up my hand.

Nothing much more to say. Keep your fingers crossed, let's hope I'm still able to do that myself after tomorrow :-).

Taking the piss

Until last week I was an Ebay virgin, never had an account, never bid on anything, never sold anything. Cap'n Marvel opened an account in 2005 but had never used it himself either. I decided to go on Ebay to search for a boardgame from my childhood - Take The Brain (Zoe I hope this little farce brings a smile to your sad lips). I apologise for the profanity but I'm a tad miffed.

It all started at Christmas., bored with TV I started a jigsaw one night and really enjoyed the peaceful time in the kitchen, Cap'n M joined me after a while and we just spent a pleasant evening working and chatting together. I wanted to do another one but didn't have any in stock so we started playing our meagre collection of boardgames instead.

Finding games that just 2 people can play is a bit of a trial. There's Scrabble of course but I'm completely pants at it and always get royally thrashed by the Cap'n which I find annoying because here I am a relatively articulate, well-read, bloggist with a huge vocabulary while he buys newspapers only for the cartoons and has never willingly read a book that has a bigger word to picture ratio in it.

We have a lovely set of wooden board games like Ludo, draughts, chess, snakes & ladders but I wanted something a bit more fun and started to reminisce about Take The Brain which I used to play for hours with my brother. To be fair it's quite similar to chess but the pieces have more wacky names like Ninnies and Numskulls making it more appealing. I've wanted this game again for years but had given it up for dead long ago, my parents must have given away our games before I left home - little did they know they were sitting on a goldmine.

Anyhoo the Cap'n suggested I do a search on the the internet which had never occurred to me (I know, duhhhhh which way did he go George ...) and lo and behold there were 3 or 4 for sale on Ebay! I went for the one with the lowest bid and longest time left because it looked to be the one in best condition.

For about 2 days I was the highest bidder and was pretty chuffed to be getting it even if £8 was a little steep for a 36-year old boardgame.

And then a bunch of complete wankers came along and suddenly the price shot up to £30!

Little did I know that I was engaged in a battle of wits with a bunch of twats who I envision to look like Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons and we're fighting for what is evidently the Holy Grail of boardgames.

To make things more interesting someone also posted that they were selling another Take The Brain for the buy it now price of £34.99. I was torn, the buy it now copy was quite tatty - and 35 quid - but I could end the suspense.

I really wanted to get the better game (nothing like a bit of competition to sharpen your desires - kerrang, I've fallen into the Ebay trap) so I decided to wait until the last minute so I could get my final bid in. I had until about 6:50 pm on Saturday, if I could get the winning bid submitted at the very last moment, Take The Brain would be mine!! Unfortunately we usually go out to do our food shopping on Saturdays at about 6pm so I couldn't see my plan through - instead I took a gamble that normal people aren't sitting in front of a computer screen at that time on a Saturday night so I plugged in my final max bid of, wait for it, £40!

Boy was I ever wrong.

As soon as we got back I rushed to my laptop to find that the other bidder had beat me by 1 penny! That fucker, within a minute of my final bid, had started plugging in figure after figure until he revealed what my final bid had been. In less than a minute he beat me by a lousy penny. To add insult to injury the buy it now version had also been snapped up. Grrrrrr!

If anyone has this game please let me know - I'll make it worth your while :-)

Bingo Fuel

I’ve had to concede defeat and give in to the fact that I’ve gained weight over Christmas and the New Year. Of course for most people that’s nothing exceptional but as I am trying desperately to lose weight in order to be activated on the transplant list it is something of a blow.

I dropped my "dry weight" a couple of weeks ago and ever since I’ve been struggling to take off the extra fluid that computer thinks that I’ve gained between sessions. On 2nd January the computer reckoned that I had gained 4½ kilos which equates to 4½ litres of fluid – to put things into perspective that’s almost 8 pints. Not only did I not drink that much fluid over the weekend but I still have enough kidney function to pee a little bit therefore making me able expel some of what I take in the way nature intended.

Needless to say losing 8 pints of fluid in 3½ hours to restore me to my dry weight is hard going. Consequently I’ve been restricting my fluid intake more and more in order to keep up and it’s making me ill and miserable. Amongst other things this has had a catastrophic effect on my bowel, my poor fluid starved body is sucking out the moisture of the umm, number 2’s, making it impossible for them to pass through.

Ergo I must have gained good old fashioned lard.

I don’t deserve to be as heavy as I am. It’s not like I eat crap all day long, I never have. OK I have a few glasses of wine and a packet of crisps every couple of days, I’m not a saint for crying out loud but what I survive on and still not lose weight is ridiculous.

It drives me nuts when I read those sappy success stories in the Sunday papers of people who suddenly have an epiphany over their weight and by simply cutting out fish & chips, pies, chocolate, curries and pints of beer and eating a healthy diet instead they lose 8 stone – if it was that effin’ simple I’d be giving Posh Spice a run for her money by now, I've been on a low calorie, low fat, low sugar diet since I was 11 years old!

My next step now is medication. I’m going to be taking a drug called Xenical which prevents the body from absorbing fat. Instead the fats within your food just pass through your system undigested so if you have too much ie more than 3-5% you run the risk of such delights as oily diarrhoea or even anal leakage. Niiiice.

You call this progress

Has anyone else experienced difficulty in accessing blogs with a blogspot.com address lately? Since I switched over to the new version of Blogger I have extreme difficulty connecting to them, including my own site!

While I was sleeping

Woohooo! The site meter tripped over to 1000 today ... I was in fact the 1000th visitor myself. Thanks for pushing up that counter with me - it gives an old girl an awful lot of satisfaction.

Break in transmission

Happy New Year everyone!

It's funny how things go sometimes, I had 2 weeks off work and thought that I would have ooooooodles of time for writing, customising, etc. The reality, obviously as I haven't been anywhere near this blog for over 2 weeks, was very different. Forgive the essay version of the recap but I shall try to keep it as snappy as possible.

Monday 18 Dec - The Gas Man Cometh

I spent day 1 of my precious leave cleaning like a woman possessed. The gas man was coming to service the boiler and central heating system at noon and as I don't do housework as often as I should, this was probably a good thing because it forced me to tidy up. He arrived promptly, was here for approximately 32 minutes and left £45 richer. Nice work if you can get it. He didn't even comment on how shiny everything was.

I spent the afternoon attempting to make gingerbread. I was following an American recipe that I found online, I was lucky enough to have been given some American measures for cups, etc. which was fortunate as my kitchen scales have gone kaput, however you know what everyone says, everything's bigger in America and that applies to recipes too. The dry ingredients were far too much for my puny little Masterchef so I had t0 halve everything as best I could. Half of the dough made about 30 gingerbread men & gingerbread trees, which I promptly overbaked into rock hard little table decorations.

Tuesday 19 Dec - Essex Girls go round the outside

Tuesday morning was spent as usual at the dialysis unit. After treatment I spent a few hours Christmas shopping trying to bag the final perfect gifts for the parents-who-have-everything. I think I managed to find the very last parking space in all of Christendom and was acutely aware whilst walking back to the car with my bulky first purchase, of other motorists cruising along behind me like great white sharks prowling the shallows. It felt rather good to load the boot of the car and walk off back in the direction of the town leaving the parking predators fuming behind me.

When finished I drove home and crashed in the recliner for 20 minutes before being whisked away by the good Cap'n to visit his brother and his family in Essex, an hour & a half''s drive from where we live. I love these relations to bits but it is always a bit of a trial as they are so different from us country bumpkins in Suffolk, I always feel so square in their presence as they are so damn trendy and I am so damn not.

The house is always filled with smoke and they have an enormous German Shepherd who insists on greeting visitors personally with a paw on each shoulder and looking them squarely in the eye. He's soft as muck but due to his sheer size he can do some damage (particularly to chest catheters) if you don't have your wits about you.

We drove home at about 9pm as we both needed to be up early in the morning.

Wednesday 20 Dec - Promoting a good image

I still can't believe that I agreed to attend the Lt's promotion to Captain at 08:00 am on a day when I was on leave. Somehow I managed to drag myself out of bed to arrive early for the 2 minute ceremony which was followed by a breakfast most of which I can't currently eat.

I arrived home at about 10:00 and set about wrapping presents. This is the part of Christmas I dread the most because I can't wrap for toffee ... I I I I said that I I I I can't rap for to-o-o-o-ffee, mo fo.

Anyway 4 hours, several rolls of sellotape and 2 dozen yards of curling ribbon later I stopped for lunch and then I remembered that I had to get some small gifts and sweets for the kids who might turn up for the staff Christmas luncheon on Friday. We have a Secret Santa gift exchange and I like to do a little raffle-type game so any kids who turn up get something to unwrap too. Ain't I sweet.

I set off into town and bought a dozen suitable little things and brought them home for another marathon wrapping session.

After that I decorated the previously mentioned jawbreakers, I mean gingerbread.

Thursday 21 Dec - It's worse than that, he's dead Jim

Dialysis as usual. On the way back I pulled up to some traffic lights which were on red. A car pulled up behind me and as is my custom I examined the occupants in my rear view mirror.

I was intrigued by the passenger as it looked like he was fast asleep, head back on the back of the seat. With my second look I concluded that he didn't look very healthy at all, in fact Omigodddd! He's dead!!

With a further look (the lights take a long time to change) I realised that he was in fact a shop mannequin but I have to say I'm baffled by why he might need to be driven around in a Mini-Metro.

I then had to make a quick stop off to work again to drop off the kids' parcels and the Secret Santa stuff so no-one would see me arrive with them the next day and thus give away who gave those gifts.

In the afternoon I had an appointment to talk to my GP about my mother. The Parkinsons is affecting her brain and giving her some kind of dementia. She thinks that her parents still live at home and that all her own kids have died. It's all very upsetting and I needed to talk to someone about it. Dear old doc was great and instantly made room on her schedule to see my parents together in the New Year

Friday 22 Dec - How not to be a domestic goddess

I couldn't sleep Friday morning so I was up around 4 am, just in time for the milkman to deliver my long awaited orgasmal box. Pfft is all can say. Any orgasm derived from that measly collection would definitely have been faked. It contained:

a tiny bag of Brussels sprouts
4 parnsips, each about the size of my thumb
2 apples
2 carrots
2 potatoes
a vacuum pack of beetroot
2 satsumas
2 tiny onions

I was somewhat perplexed by what exactly I was supposed to do with such a minute quantity of stuff. Size matters to a girl no matter what they tell you.

And so, on to the the piece de resistance of my "relaxing" week before Christmas. I blew up my hob with 3 days to go until Christmas.

I was following a Nigella Lawson recipe for cola baked ham. It's very simple, you simmer your joint of gammon in cola for a couple of hours and then you bake it in a very hot oven for a few minutes with a few extra ingredients until you have a succulent crisp coated joint.

I was actually cooking 2 joints as I couldn't find one big enough to feed 25 hungry Americans. I had turned up the heat ever so slightly on one of the pans and then left the kitchen for a couple of minutes to make a fuss of Dougal in the living room. I heard a muted pop and went back in to the kitchen to investigate.

The Real Thing was oozing in a thin syrpy puddle all over the hob and the work top but the pans had stopped simmering - yup not only can you melt teeth and clean your toilets with it but you can also short electrical circuits and totally mess up hobs with it.

I had to finish the ham by casseroling it in the oven and then baking it off.

Fortunately it turned out to be the best ham anyone has ever tasted. Certainly the most expensive.

I'm not going to cover the week after Christmas as it was extremely boring but tiring with not much time being spent at home. I apologise if I've kept you in suspenders for such a long time, I'll try and make it up to you this year.