Loss

Blogs can do some pretty weird things to you over time and one of the weirdest is becoming close to people you don’t really know. You read about their life’s ups and downs and become emotionally tied to their trials and tribulations feeling both pain and joy along with them. If you have had the pleasure, or otherwise, of meeting the subject of a blog this empathy is often intensified.

Today I have read, with great sadness, of the passing of Doreen Smith, a person who I believe I have actually met on a couple of fleeting occasions back in the eighties but whom I have grown to know through the words of her son. It is difficult to express the emotions I am feeling right now but I know they will be magnified a thousand fold for Sid and his family. I just want to take this opportunity pass on my deepest condolences and to tell Doreen that I miss her.

Gill’s Gone

Gill headed off to Manchester today to visit with Kath and Gary who have recently moved up from Enfield. Gill has know Kath since their days together at North Staffs Poly and they have kept in touch ever since. Well when I say they’ve kept in touch it has usually been at either mine or Gary’s prompting but, hey, that’s women for you. Gill is taking advantage of a week or so’s holiday to make the visit for a couple of days. It will be nice for them to get together for a good old chin-wag because it must be about 3 years since they’ve met in person.

The holiday has been taken in order for Gill to have some time to come to terms with turning the dread four-o on the 17th. I get the distinct impression she is not fully looking forward to the big event but there are some advantages to becoming an old git. We spent Saturday morning in Newcastle perusing jewellery in Richard Sintons as an attempt to purchase a present from me and by Jove I think we may have cracked it. Not that Gill knows what she is getting, although I’m sure she has a good idea, but an order has been placed and hopefully we will have it before the 17th.

I’ve also taken a few days holiday as part of my phased return to work so hopefully we will be able to get out and about a bit. The weekend is pretty much spoken for with the Cumberland Arms in Byker having its annual Organic Beer Festival and a meal planned on Sunday evening with Gills family so it could be a hectic few days.

Party Politics

I think I am falling out of love. Stop panicking Gill, not with you. No, I think I’m falling out of love with playing D&D. Yesterday was our first session in quite a while and I left feeling deflated and I enjoyed very little of the play. I think the reason for this is that the sessions are becoming unwieldy and very little of the time we spend together actually involves any game play. Rather we spend what seem to be hours plotting, planning and generally chatting and perhaps only an hour or so playing the damn game.

One of the big problems at the moment is that we are playing a mixed alignment party with a couple of Lawful Good characters at one end of the spectrum and Shaun and I playing Chaotic Neutral characters at the other. Now being a ‘role playing’ game Shaun and I have taken it upon us to cash in on some of the less savoury sidelines that our good colleagues would shun. This has led to some friction with other players as we have extra funds coming in that they are not party to. I don’t know how this situation can be resolved. Do Shaun and I stop role playing and toe the party line? In which case we may as well have rolled good characters in the first place, or do we soldier on and wait for the inevitable straining of friendships/relationships to become serious?

I think another problem is that we are nearly all playing World of Warcraft now and the spirit of cooperation within the guild there is very high and maybe people are expecting that to follow on in D&D. But we are talking about 2 very different game systems with very different rules; D&D is a much more complex beast. D&D is pure role playing while WoW is very much an arcade game with some aspects of role-play bolted on. Strong personalities can be much more dominant in the D&D setting because of its immediate, face to face nature unlike WoW where the barrier created by the computer interface deadens their impact.

I know it can be annoying when other characters appear to be ripping off the rest of the party but that’s the way it goes sometimes, I know, I’ve been on the receiving end many times in the past. Perhaps, in hindsight, we should have insisted that the party alignments were a maximum of one step away from each other so this sort of conflict wouldn’t occur. But, hey, we didn’t and we have to play with what we’ve got, the CN members of the party have also gone along with stuff they haven’t agreed with, so...

All in all I can’t be bothered. It’s only a bloody game and I’m not going to let it ruin my current feeling of well being. Should we ever play again I’ll give it one more go but if I leave feeling the same way as yesterday that’s it, I’m through with it.

Whathisname?

Earlier in the week I had a phone call from Paddy saying that he had arranged a drink after work on Thursday as a welcoming back event in my honour. What he had failed to mention was that rather than staying in town he had decided it would be great fun to head up the Tyne Valley to the Boat House in Wylam. This made logistics a bit interesting and I decided that I would limit myself to a couple of drinks with everyone in town before they head off on the train. I didn’t think I would make it into work on the Friday if the night went on too long, which wouldn’t have been an auspicious start to my return to work.

I made my excuses at the rehab session and left before the relaxation talk that was planned and raced home to drop off my sweat drenched kit (you really wanted to know that didn’t you?) before making my way up to the Bodega. The selection of beers during the summer months in most pubs tends to veer towards a light, hopy “Golden this” or “Summer that” with no dark ales to be seen. So, rather than take a chance on something unknown and potentially hop laden, I fell back on the old, safe standby of Mordues “Workie Ticket”. Next stop, for no reason that I could think of other than ‘It’s next to the railway station’, was the Centurion bar who have never, it seems, heared of cask beer so I switched to JD and coke.

Now at this point I had planned to say my goodbyes to everyone as they headed off on the train but persuation, or the alcohol, got the better of me and before I knew it I was on the phone to Gill wondering if she fancied driving up to the Boat House for a half before driving the pair of us back home? Luckily she was in a good mood and encouraged by the good weather agreed to my proposal. Gill and I had only been to the Boat House once together as far as I was aware but it was a regular haunt of mine during my student days. Only 15 mins away on the train it was a great place to escape to and I spent many an evening there with Steve Whatshisname debating the finer points of any crap that came to mind.

Now obviously Steve’s surname was not Whatshisname but I’m damned if I can recall it just now. I can picture him as clearly as I can remember he still has one of my Hawkwind LP’s. Ho-hum, I’m sure his name will come to me at three in the morning sometime within the next week. I remember one particularly drunken evening celebrating the release of Nelson Mandela over several pints of dark, unctuous loveliness. Anyway...

To be honest the place doesn’t appear to have changed that much. It still looks rather ragged around the edges and the locals still drink more than can be good for them but the beer is of such good quality I can understand why. They also, to their credit, had a lovely dark beer from the Hawkshead Brewery whose name unfortunately escapes me for the moment. I’m making a habit of this today aren’t I? Gill duly arrived and after an hour or so of amiable chit chat we headed back home with the stated intention of returning before the summer is out.

Slave To The Grind

It has finally happened and I am back at work. How do I feel about this? Well to be honest, for a change, very positive. I was getting to that ‘caged animal’ stage at home. Despite reports to the contrary there is only so much time you can spend on World of Warcraft, or listening to music, or reading, or wandering aimlessly around town before work begins to look like an attractive proposal.

I’m here for a half day today before heading over to my rehab class. The initial idea of today was to discuss with Paddy just how we were going to manage my return to work. Like all great ideas there was a flaw, namely Paddy didn’t show up this morning and won’t be here until after I have left. So how have I used my time today? Well I’ve wandered around the department saying my hellos to people and catching up on 3 months of gossip. I'm glad to be back.

Feels Like 1998

As I mentioned in my last post the Tour de France started yesterday minus several of its competitors including the two favourites Jan Ulrich and Ivan Basso. Both have been implicated in a doping scandal that has been unearthed in Spain and the Tour is facing its darkest days since the Festina scandal of 1998.

I have been a follower of the race since the days of 15 minute highlights each Saturday on World of Sport. In those days I didn’t really understand what it was all about but loved the spectacle provided by the likes of Eddy Merckx. As television coverage of the race became more comprehensive with the introduction of Channel 4 I gained a new found respect for the athletes who braved this most gruelling of challenges. However the shadow of drug misuse/abuse has never been far away from the sport or the race casting doubt on the legitimy of all involved.

I hope, against all odds, that the race this year manages to overcome its bad start and the start of the post Lance Armstrong era produces race and a champion who will be talked about for all the right reasons. Spanish rider Alejandro Valverde suffers the handicap of being my tip this year and, with the recent suspensions, is also now race favourite.

Abnormal Service Resumed

When, in my very first post for this blog, I stated that the posts may, on occasion, be a little infrequent even I didn’t expect a hiatus of nearly 2 months. There have been a number of factors associated with my lack of posting but nothing of any great import. I just have found other things to do. In truth I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make any further posts and Tyne Tales was just going to pass into history as another of my half hearted ‘projects’. However I have enjoyed posting here and although at times I have struggled for anything meaningful to say I will miss it if it were to go, so here I am with an attempt to get things moving again.

What has prompted this change of mind? A couple of things really, I have actually had a couple of messages asking me to update the site (I didn’t think anyone cared, thank you), and I’m about to return to work and I find the blog helps me focus on my life away from the hospital and appreciate it more. Strangely I also feel that I had more time to post whist I was working as opposed to now as I sit at home all day. Go figure.

OK I suppose an update of sorts is called for so now follows the main bits and pieces that would have appeared here had I been arsed.

• Tomorrow was worse and poor Coral was put to sleep at 13:00 on Tuesday 9th May. The house has been a much quieter and emptier place without her presence. We miss her dreadfully still.

• My surgeon, or at least his registrar, is very pleased with my recovery from surgery and a further ECHO scan has confirmed that the operation to have been successful.

• I have commenced a twice weekly cardiac rehabilitation scheme which entails going to a sports centre and doing circuit training, *shudder*.

• Been to 2 beer festivals which I’m quite sure don’t feature in any rehabilitation program. The first was in Edinburgh and Billy and I spent a very enjoyable day up in Scotland, the second in Corbridge in the Tyne Valley. I even took photos of each with the thought of posting a report, but there you go.

• England get knocked out of the World Cup on penalties yet again. We played poorly and won, to a chorus of media disapproval. We played much better and lost, happy now you pen pushing gits?

• The Tour de France starts in controversy, like England losing, no surprise there then.

OK I could go on but what’s the point? Let’s just accept things have been and gone and just take things from here.

Too Good To Be True

Well my progress has been quite remarkable so far, much better than I had envisaged at this point. I had assumed that I would still be mainly in bed and tottering around the house in great pain. Now whilst I certainly have moments of pain they are much less severe than I had thought. I have even been getting out of the house and into the fresh air.

Last Thursday, three weeks to the day from my operation, I made a trip to work in order to hand in my sick note, plus show off my scar, and then into town for a bit of a mooch around the record shops. Although I resisted temptation and abstained from purchasing anything. Friday night was spent at Graeme and Sam’s playing D&D although I did leave early in a bit of pain. Saturday marked my busiest day so far, into town with Billy in the afternoon for some CD shopping which resulted in purchases of the new Tool CD and discs from the Moody Blues, Hawkwind and Tradia to keep me going. Then in the evening off to town for my friend Ed’s Stag Night. Being all more of the mature persuasion, at least in age terms, we decided a drink and curry would be as racy as things would get although once the beer flowed it was decided to finish the night off in a lap dancing club. Well I didn’t even make the curry and decided discretion was the better part of valour and left after the drinks and even if I had the curry I would have given the lap dancing a miss. Not my cup of tea really.

I bet you are all thinking ‘Wow he’s done amazingly well to be able to do all that’, and you would be right, too well. Yesterday evening I collapsed in the house and ended up spending the night between the General and Freeman hospitals. Overdoing things was the general consensus after discounting a heart attack, so I’ve been given instructions to take things easier, a lot easier.

But none of this is why today I feel really low, so low I could cry at the slightest provocation. With everything that has been going on in my life I had lost sight of most things other than my own condition and when over the weekend I became aware that another member of the household was going through a bad time as well I was taken a little by surprise. Our wonderful little moggy Coral has been struggling with her breathing over the last couple of days and her appetite hasn’t been great for a week or so. Hence a trip to the vets this afternoon and the news that the vet fears she may have a lung tumour which would be incurable. So tomorrow we drop her off in the morning for a chest x-ray and the knowledge that we may have to have her put to sleep in the afternoon if our fears are realised. All in all a shitty day and I have a feeling tomorrow will be worse.

Update

So here I am a week into my return from hospital. I've finally gotten around to adding something here and putting some back dated posts up so if you want to know what has been going on just check the last 4 or 5 posts.

I'm still in pain, espacially at night, but nothing that I can't live with and it's improving all the time. I'm still not sleeping through but again this is improving. Overall I can't beleive just how well I feel at the moment, I thought I would still be pretty much bed bound at this stage.

Not that I've been doing much. Gill and I popped up to the Silverlink Retail Park yesterday for a mooch around Border Books for enjoyment and the various electrical retailers looking for a new answerphone and a printer for the computer. We must only have been out of the house for an hour or so but I was jiggered by the end of it. It was nice to be out of the house though.

No Place Like....

I got home today and already I feel a million times better for it. My life is now my own to control, well OK it’s Gill’s to control but, hey, close. I still can’t believe that 5 days after such major surgery I sitting in my own house surrounded by the things that make me feel comfortable. God it’s good.

I left the ward this afternoon carrying what looked like one of those American, brown paper, shopping bags packed to the gunnels with pills of every kind. I’m still not convinced by my pain control but I am convinced that if I had stayed on the ward any longer I would have got an infection or died of boredom.

Home Run?

I had a better night last night, not a good one by any means, but better. I still woke with pain although perhaps only an 8 on the scale and with the help of some extra meds was able to get back off to sleep for a fitful but needed hour and a half. I was by this point quite knackered through the day and was able to snatch a couple of hours just lying on my bed which did help. It has now been 4 days since my surgery and I was thrown something of a curve ball by the medics, would I like to go home today? What? Did I just hear you right, home? I didn’t know what to say, of course I wanted to go home but I didn’t think my pain was suitably controlled yet, what should I do?

In the end I opted to stay on the ward for another night to try and get some more control of the pain. I didn’t feel sufficiently confident to trust my care to the current meds with no chance of an extra shot of something if required. I think this was the right decision to make it would have been unfair on Gill to put her in the situation of panicking about my meds. So I condemn myself to another day of boredom and stale hospital air.

Ouch

Pain. Such a simple word and yet such a complex beast. Throughout my care I had been pain scored on a scale of 1-10, where I had to judge at which level my pain currently stood. As a general rule I had scored myself at about 3 for most of my stay, last night I would have put that score at about 15. I had woken at about 2:30 it absolute paralysing agony, the sort of agony that made both reaching for my buzzer to call a nurse, or even just shouting out, a physical and mental impossibility. As I lay there I would have quite happily have had someone push me out of my 4th floor window if they had told me it was the best thing to relieve the pain, no hesitation. I can’t sit here and describe exactly how I felt but the pain robbed me of all rational thought and took me to a place I hope I never have the misfortune to visit again.

After an hour and a half of moving my body a millimetre at a time I was able to get the attention of a nurse who kindly went out of her way to secure me a huge dose or oral morphine. This did manage to take the edge off the pain, reducing it to a measly 9, and I spent the rest of the night out of bed propped up in my chair. The medical staff were a little surprised that I had suffered so badly and endeavoured to ease my pain by adding….Ibuprofen. Wasn’t convinced myself, I have to say. Still maybe tonight with an extra days healing under my belt things wouldn’t be so bad.

Chit Chat

I was encouraged to be more mobile today despite the number of tubes and bags attached to me and started to potter around the ward. I was feeling much better today and was moving quite freely but it still came as some thing of a surprise when, at tea time, the medical staff decided that my painkilling and anaesthetic drivers could be removed and that I should be able to cope on oral medicaton. So I started on a course of Paracetamol and Codeine, sounds a bit ‘headachy’ doesn’t it?

The beds in the ward were filled with chest patients who had all undergone various procedures and were at various stages of their care pathway. We all got on well as a group and before long, as happens when you get a bunch of blokes trapped together, we were soon putting the world to rights. It’s funny how a place like hospital becomes a great leveller and all ideas of social position are discarded as everyone is crushingly brought to the same level by a combination of bad pyjamas and intrusive investigations. The four of us covered the spectrum from very obviously upper middle class to lower working class yet we never once found it hard to find a topic of conversation and, somewhat amazingly, steered clear of the most controversial topics such as politics and religion.

Werewolves and Angels

Fleeting memories return now and again of my first evening in Intensive care: I remember Gill’s comforting presence; I remember the uncomfortable feeling of the ventilator tube in my throat and Gill tells me I made several motions to the effect of wanting the damn thing out; I remember getting tingling in my fingers a toes that would cause me to wiggle them which, Gill tells, me looked as if I was waving to everyone in the ward; I remember the miming of pulling a pint, but not why and I remember miming the actions of a werewolf after someone mentioned there was a full moon.

At some point through the night my ventilator was removed as I was able to breathe for myself and started to become more aware of my surroundings. First thing that struck me were the number of tubes coming out of me. I had a catheter for my urine, a drain removing blood and fluid from my chest, venous access in my neck, groin and right wrist (x2) and a line delivering local anaesthetic directly into my wound site.

Looking after this mess, and the tubes, was an angel by the name of Elaine. She efficiently ensured everything was flowing where it should and that if it wasn’t the problem was sorted instantly. But this was no cold efficiency, it was all done with a warmth and care I shall cherish for the rest of my living days and not just for the care she gave me. Gill was full of praise for the way Elaine worked and said that the only reason she didn’t stay overnight with me was the confidence instilled in her by the sheer professionalism exhibited by Elaine. She was in no doubt I could have received any better care.

As the day progressed Shona and Jane took over my care and the high standards continued. Working as a pair it was good to see the way newly qualified Jane was encouraged and guided by the more experienced Shona and this highlighted the exceptional level of communication skills on show within the Unit. I don’t think it would be a bad idea for all staff to spend some time in the presence of ICU staff to explode the myth that talking to patients and fellow staff at every opportunity takes up valuable time, on the contrary I’m sure, as I’ve always been, that in the long run this approach saves both the staff and patient time.

Well all good things must come to an end and, dosed to the eyeballs, late this afternoons I was transferred to the post surgical ward after being judged as being past major risk. So off to ward 30 it was and despite some drug induced panic on my behalf regarding my morphine dose, addiction setting in?, I settled in nicely and promptly fell asleep.

Sliced and Diced

And so to the morning of my surgery, except it wasn’t. No I was actually having my surgery in the afternoon now so some more of that waiting stuff had yet to be endured. Arthur was the first of the three to be called for at about 9:30 and Patrick and I wished him the best of luck as he was wheeled toward theatre. He left with a smile on his face and a look of utter relief that there would be no cancellation for him this time. This left Patrick to sit and talk before Gill and his Mom arrived to help offer moral support.

Patrick was due in for his surgery at 2:30 and to be honest wasn’t looking forward to it I the slightest. He wasn’t really able to put his finger on why beyond the feeling he was suffering from ‘fear of the unknown’. I tried to offer some of my experience and knowledge about the workings of hospitals and just what goes on in them and I think I helped clear up a couple of misconceptions he was under and ease his trepidation a little. I think at this point I realised just how helpful working in the Hospital had been for me and I was able to dissect the information give to me, cutting out the crap and concentrating on the facts. I was helped by the knowledge that despite my condition and it’s repair being total outside my ken it was just very much routine for the team who would be looking after me.

Prep for the surgery required me to have a shower at 10:00 using Hibiscrub. Hibiscrub is the bright, pink stuff you see by every sink in hospitals in square plastic bottles and I think carries the quintessential hospital odour. Yep, when people tell you that something smells like a hospital what they usually mean is that it smells of Hibiscrub. Duly refreshed I was also required to put on my gown which was of the usual ’flash your arse’ variety and remain in my bed from that point on.

11:00 saw the arrival of my pre-med and at this point I think I thought for the first time that this was really going to happen. I really was going to undergo major surgery, let someone slice open my side, collapse my lung and start slashing my bodies main artery with a scalpel. This was big and there was no going back now but still I felt no fear, only a desire for it to be over with. Gill accompanied me to the theatre doors and I remember about 2 minutes of conversation with the theatre staff before….nothing.

I'm In

Today I made the trip up to Freeman Hospital for my 10:30 appointment on ward 27, which is the pre-surgical assessment ward. I wasn’t exactly sure as to just what assessments were due to be carried out but I figured if they needed a whole day to get them done I was going to be visiting every department in the Hospital. Of course that wasn’t the case and in the end all the assessments could have only taken an hour and a half to complete. I think the real reason for getting me in a day early was to introduce me to something I was to become intimately familiar with, interminable waiting.

Because of the proximity of the Easter weekend many operations had been rescheduled due to the absence of key staff so the ward was only half full. I shared my 6 bedded unit with a 72 year old chap from Durham called Arthur who was due to have a cancerous lung removed and a 26 year old from Newcastle, Patrick, who had been rushed in after discovering the reason for his recent poor performances on the football pitch were down to a collapsed lung. It was Arthur who regaled Patrick and I with horror tales of waiting around information less as the whole world seemed to ignore us in our isolated little six bedder. In fact Arthur was only here because his operation had been cancelled a fortnight ago due to a complication in the operation preceding his meaning the theatre time over-ran considerably and there was no time to fit him in.

As always happens in situations like this my visitors, Gill, Mam and Dad, were waiting for me as I returned from having a chest x-ray. The ward had an open visiting philosophy which was great as it allowed Gill to spend most of the day with me, easing a bit of the tension we were both feeling. Again, somewhat typically, the nurse specialist, Amanda, visited during the short period when she was away from the ward. Amanda was checking to make sure I was having no last minute panics and to give a rough timetable for tomorrows events, it looked like I was first on Mr Hasans list so an 8:30 start was likely. Amanda promised to return with the surgeon as he made his rounds later.

Gill was at my bedside when Mr Hasan and Amanda arrived a couple of hours later to check how I was allowing her to ask some of the questions we had only been able to speculate on previously like what ward was I likely to be transferred to after Intensive Care and just how long was I likely to be in Intensive Care. I couldn’t have cared less but the information was important to Gill. In fact I was being very blasé about the whole thing taking the attitude that this was something that I had to go through regardless so whatever happened happened and I was just going to react to situations as they arose. I’m pleased I took this point of view because I do believe it helped maintain my sanity over the following week.

Thanks must also go at this point to my youngest sister Lisa who popped in to see me and did a mighty fine job of maintaining my spirits. She was planning to introduce our parents to her new beau that week, a beau who was in his early fifties with kids, Lisa is currently in her mid thirties. Oh boy I wish I could be there.

At Last

Well I think the last two days have taken their toll and I’m not heading to the beer fest today. Yesterdays trip was very enjoyable and I think I’ve tasted everything I had wanted to anyway so being absolutely pooped I’m going to give it a miss. I also don’t want to push my body too far; I don’t think it will react well to much more pushing. Plus There is a very good reason why this is a sensible decision, more of which later.

Our day started as usual yesterday with a trip to the Deli counters of Fenwick’s to stock up on food for in-fest picnic. The picnic has become something of beer fest folklore and we are often asked what delights we have to eat by the staff as we enter. There is a hot food counter in the hall but, hey, we like to be different and despite there being a ban on people bringing in their own food we get away with it every year. This year we had a selection of humus and other dips with plenty of crisps etc to mop up the sloppy goodness, a selection of different olives and some deli prepared sandwiches. Normally we would buy bread and filling to make up our own at the fest but I think we were feeling lazy this year.

Billy and I worked our way through the beers as the girls tackled the cider stall. The advantage the girls have is that not only have they been stalwarts of said stall for several years but my sister Lisa also works on the stall. This means they tend to get a number of freebies throughout the course of the fest and get served instantly no matter how large the queue. Not that you have to wait long to be served and we sampled everything we wanted to. Highlights of the fest included Sarah Hughes Dark Ruby (good every year), Fernandes Newky Black (brewed especially for the fest) and Marble Chocolate Heavy.

So why was it a sensible decision to stay away from the alcohol? Well this morning I received a phone call from my Surgeons secretary asking if I could come in on Wednesday the 12th with a view to having my surgery on the Thursday. So feeling both excited and somewhat nervous at the same time this may be the last time you hear from me for a while, like you would notice the difference. In the very unlikely things don’t go well, and just to wind Gill into an even greater state of stress, I like to say thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this blog for the last 9 months, it’s been a blast.

Hot And Sweaty

Yesterday was a busy day, not only was it the first day of the 30th Newcastle Beer Festival it was also the night of the Drive By Truckers gig at the Cluny in Byker. I can’t remember the year of my first beer festival but it would have been sometime in the mid Eighties when it was held at the Guildhall down on the Quayside. Almost every year from that time on I have attended at least a day at the festival and latterly have taken to booking the time off work to allow me to attend every session. The only time I failed to attend was a couple of years during the early Nineties when I was disillusioned with the whole ‘beer thing’ and couldn’t be bothered to turn up.

This year’s festival was held once again at Newcastle University in the large concert hall. Despite the gig Gill, Billy, Steph and I were determined to get at least an hour or so’s drinking in before heading over to Byker. We arranged to meet up outside the University ¼ of an hour prior to opening and thus ensuring the maximum supping time. Getting into the hall we quickly made our way to the bar and got the first halves in, no pints allowed in the beer fest. First impressions are good with a number of dark beers on the list and a couple of potential ‘best beer of the festival’ candidates already.

Off to the gig we all piled into a taxi, well two actually because there were no five seaters anywhere to be found who were prepared to go to Byker for some reason. Despite having drank at the Cluny numerous times previously none of us had ever attended a gig there so were unsure what to expect. As it turns out the room reminded me a bit of a ¼ sized Riverside, all exposed brickwork and beer tacky floors. Crammed into this rather small space were a good couple of hundred punters creating an atmosphere something akin to a Turkish Baths. As ever we seemed to get stuck behind the six foot four biker and his bigger mate. I could tell Gill was already reacting badly to the surroundings, not liking the claustrophobic feeling she gets at gigs like this.

The Truckers came on stage to a very good reception and launched into their set without any preamble. One song quickly followed another with no inter song banter and by the time the fifth tune was starting up Gill made her excuses and left to find a more air spot accompanied by Steph. The set was great mix of old favourites and tracks off this months new CD, in fact they must have played a good six or seven of their new tracks through the course of the gig. The got a rapturous reception from the crowd of mainly balding chaps with ages and waistlines in the low to mid forties.

The sound was not bad considering the size of the room and for those of you yet to enjoy the DBT experience they sound very like a Tom Petty fronting a sixties version of the Rolling Stones after they had all popped several downers. Looks wise I can only really speak for the 3 guitarists/vocalists and then only from the waist up due to a restricted view. Mike Cooley looked like the bastard child of Harry Dean Stanton and Keith Richards, Jason Isbell a very young, plump Jimmy Page and Patterson Hood a strange blend of Blue Oyster Cult’s Eric Bloom and dodgy UK comedian Rory McGrath. As for drummer Brad Morgan and bassist Shonna Tucker, who knows, I couldn’t see them. In all they played for two and a quarter hours with standout numbers being Decoration Day, Space City and A World of Hurt.

Faster Than A Speeding Speedy Thing

I don’t consider myself to be particularly savvy when it comes to computers but I can get by doing most things if required given a little bit of thought and tinkering and I should have trusted to these skills last night while configuring my broadband connection. Foolishly though I printed off the instructions for doing this from the Virgin website and followed them. A decision that probably cost me an hour, you live and you learn. In the end after ditching the instructions I got myself back on track. So I am now getting speeds of 2.2 MB which is, surprise, surprise, a lot better than my old 52k connection and there is a free upgrade to 8 MB on the way.

So, what with getting home from work late, taking longer to configure broadband and installing anti-virus and firewall software I only had time for an hour or so gaming before fatigue set in. It was weird playing on World of Warcraft without someone next to me on a networked PC such as the set up at both Billy and Steph’s or Graeme and Sam’s. I realise now just how much information I had gleaned from having a fellow player next to me and how different it was playing solo, as it were. It did put a whole new perspective on things and made me take in more of my surroundings not having anyone to rely on to point me in the right direction.

Another Fine MESH

This could be the last post I have to make from my old antiquated home set up or work PC because my gleaming brand new PC arrived yesterday morning. Now when I said could it was because I have no faith that I’m going to be able to get the whole thing up and working without any further hitches.

Further hitches I hear you ask? Well when the computer arrived all the boxes were there it just happens that the contents of the boxes were not what had been ordered, at least we were sent the wrong monitor. After Gills amazingly calm call to MESH to inform them of our disappointment at the error on their part, which is why she makes this sort of call and not me, we were informed that, yes, they had made an error and that they would dispatch the correct monitor presently. No apology or anything just the admission of error. Bastards.

Not wanting to let the situation get the better of my blood pressure I have tried to remain calm about the whole thing which has been helped greatly by Gill taking charge of the phone calls but it still rankles. Luckily I was able to use our old CRT monitor as a stop gap until the correct one arrives and the PC is set up. All I need to do tonight is set up the broadband connection which should be active today and, hey presto my World of Warcraft addiction can be fed to its hearts content...well as long as Gill lets me.

I had planned to have a days leave tomorrow to allow me to play all day but work is building up and I don’t want to leave too much hanging if I need to go for my surgery. As we approach the end of the financial year many of the drug companies are pushing trials to get them in the 2005 figures so there is always extra work at this time of year. I’m also due to be off on Friday but I’m determined that that will remain unchanged regardless of what work is sitting waiting to be done. I need the break and my alter ego is in need of some sneaky, slice and dice action.

Thunder Stealer

There must be something in the air at the moment because not being content with my current health status or the fact that her mother is still in hospital my mam decided she wanted to get in on the act. I was bleeped at work on Friday afternoon by the nice people on reception at Accident and Emergency to tell me that she had just been admitted but that they weren’t sure of her condition. Obviously I dropped everything and headed straight up there and was ushered into the room to see her. My dad was with her and he told me that my mam had collapsed in Eldon Square car park just before he had arrived to pick her up from a shopping trip.

Thankfully she was conscious and had done no damage to herself when she fell. Looking very grey and drawn she suffering from extreme nausea and was constantly retching. Suffering mainly from that and a severe chill she looked like she had food poisoning or a bad infection. She had an ECG in the ambulance on the way to hospital and that was normal as was her blood pressure so it looked unlikely that she had suffered any coronary episode. In truth her blood pressure was way better than mine.

I stayed with my parents for an hour or so whilst we waited for a medic to review my mam but in the end had to make my excuses and head back to the unit just so I could give them an update and make sure nothing requiring my immediate attention had arrive as it usually does on a Friday afternoon. As I made it back to A&E I saw my mam being wheeled around to X-ray for a chest X-ray. She had regained some colour and wasn’t retching as much, which was a relief. The X-ray was normal and when we got back to A&E they told us that arrangements had been made to admit her to the RVI overnight for observation.

I stayed with her until the ambulance crew arrived to do the transfer then arranged for Gill to come and pick me up and take me home. I had been phoning around to my brother and sisters to give them updates and arrange for nighties etc to be collected for my mam and made further calls to let everyone know she was now being transferred. I have to admit that by the time I made it back home I was totally drained and decided that I wasn’t going to visit that night because everyone else would be heading over and I didn’t want add to the crowds. Lisa phoned me when she got back from visiting to say mam had improved some more after being given further anti-emetics and that the doctors had identified a urinary infection and suspected that was the cause of her condition.

As things stand today she was discharged with a course of antibiotics on Saturday and given instructions to take things very easy for the next week or so. Visiting yesterday she looked much brighter and the nausea had mainly resolved. I reemphasised that she should be taking things easy after she mentioned getting the train down to Preston to attend a meeting of her sugarcraft guild and hopefully she has paid heed. I was going to say that it has been nice to talk about someone else’s health problems for a change but that would be bollocks so I’ll just say that I hope that once I’m sorted this page will cease to be a health bulletin....for anyone!

Light At The End Of The Tunnel?

Well let’s get the apologies for my lack of posting out of the way first...sorry. This is down to a combination of factors but primarily due to a continued problem with my internet access at home and a general antipathy to do anything other than survive my days at work and try and get as much sleep at night as possible. I have no idea what the problem is with my dial up connection but I’m getting broadband access as of next week so that won’t be a problem for much longer, he says with fingers crossed. As for my lack of get up and go that has been down to the seemingly interminable wait to see the surgeon and get any sort of timescale for my surgery. A wait which thankfully came to an end this week.

The surgeon was very pleasant and informative going through all the possible side effects: 1/300 chance of paraplegia, less than 1% chance of death during surgery (he informed me that he hasn’t lost anyone yet), 5% chance of severe pain in my scar and a 50% chance of contracting a chest infection. The upshot is that I’ve signed consent for the surgery and am on 24hr telephone standby to go in as soon as a theatre slot and intensive care bed become available. In reality that could be anytime from today until mid summer but more likely to be sooner rather than later.

I’m not sure how my body/mind has reacted to the news. In some ways I feel as if a great wait has been lifted from my shoulders but equally I feel drained as if I now don’t have anything to drag my sorry ass towards and unable to concentrate on anything without my thoughts drifting towards my surgery. So basically I feel knackered, up-beat and distracted all at the same time. Ideal for working in the light hearted, concern free world of clinical trials.

On the subject of clinical trials the recent news of 6 men fighting for their lives after taking a new drug in a trial has caused concern that we are going to be in for a difficult time recruiting volunteers for our studies. Entering into a clinical trial is never an easy decision for a patient to make and tragedies like this can only make that decision harder. At the moment the reason for the severe reactions suffered has yet to be determined but it looks as if there has been a dosing error either in the manufacturing or prescribing of the drug or the initial laboratory tests have been compromised in some way. My thoughts go to all the victims, their families and friends and also the staff at the trail centre involved.

Still Here....Still Waiting

Well let’s get the apologies for my lack of posting out of the way first...sorry. This is down to a combination of factors but primarily due to a continued problem with my internet access at home and a general antipathy to do anything other than survive my days at work and try and get as much sleep at night as possible. I have no idea what the problem is with my dial up connection but I’m getting broadband access as of next week so that won’t be a problem for much longer, he says with fingers crossed. As for my lack of get up and go that has been down to the seemingly interminable wait to see the surgeon and get any sort of timescale for my surgery. A wait which thankfully came to an end this week.

The surgeon was very pleasant and informative going through all the possible side effects: 1/300 chance of paraplegia, less than 1% chance of death during surgery (he informed me that he hasn’t lost anyone yet), 5% chance of severe pain in my scar and a 50% chance of contracting a chest infection. The upshot is that I’ve signed consent for the surgery and am on 24hr telephone standby to go in as soon as a theatre slot and intensive care bed become available. In reality that could be anytime from today until mid summer but more likely to be sooner rather than later.

I’m not sure how my body/mind has reacted to the news. In some ways I feel as if a great wait has been lifted from my shoulders but equally I feel drained as if I now don’t have anything to drag my sorry ass towards and unable to concentrate on anything without my thoughts drifting towards my surgery. So basically I feel knackered, up-beat and distracted all at the same time. Ideal for working in the light hearted, concern free world of clinical trials.

On the subject of clinical trials the recent news of 6 men fighting for their lives after taking a new drug in a trial has caused concern that we are going to be in for a difficult time recruiting volunteers for our studies. Entering into a clinical trial is never an easy decision for a patient to make and tragedies like this can only make that decision harder. At the moment the reason for the severe reactions suffered has yet to be determined but it looks as if there has been a dosing error either in the manufacturing or prescribing of the drug or the initial laboratory tests have been compromised in some way. My thoughts go to all the victims, their families and friends and also the staff at the trail centre involved.

Wow

With plenty of time to reflect on what my surgeon might say to when or indeed if, we ever meet I have to find something to keep myself occupied. Recently this has consisted of reading as much information about World of Warcraft as I can get my grubby mits on. There are a multitude of websites out there on the subject and a very healthy number of forums that debate the far end of a fart on all things WoW. No matter what you want to know on any possible subject concerning WoW there is an answer to that query out there waiting for you to read it. It’s quite fascinating looking at the information and wondering just how many hours it must have taken to collate it all.

I’m toying with the idea of setting up a new blog to cover the topic of WoW. I don’t want to have this page taken over by post after post on the subject and I get the feeling I might just end up doing that. Of course if I endlessly play the game I might not have the time for any posts on any subject. Although I’m sure Gill will keep a log of my playing time and inform me politely when she feels I’ve been spending too much time with the computer and not enough with her, at least I hope she will be polite.

Of course for this to be a problem I have to have a computer to play on and we took massive strides to sorting that out the other day. BT have been booked to come and put a phone point into the back room, replacing the Heath Robinson effort we are using currently, and a new computer has been purchased and is due for arrival in a couple of weeks. We are splashing the cash on a quite high specced machine from MESH with dual processors, powerful graphics card and 19” TFT monitor all for a jaw dropping £1.4K. This baby is going to have to last us a looonnnggg while. I just need to sort out a broadband connection now. I’m thinking of remaining on Virgin but they have a download limit each month and I’m not sure if online gaming counts against this. Anyone out there know?

Showered With Gifts

Today Gill, Billy, Steph and I were due to head over to Ed and Carla’s in Whitley Bay for some scran and drinks before setting of to the Fat Ox to see the Russ Tippins Band in action. Some of you who have been visiting this page for a while may recognise Russ as the chap who kindly offered his experience to help me purchase a guitar last year. The band only play within striking distance of public transport once every couple of months so we were looking forward to taking the opportunity. However, Gill had to pop down to see Ed last night about work only to find him suffering from various ailments and tonight’s plans were cancelled.

I feel sorry for Carla who was really looking forward to playing host and had already bought in many of the provisions. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to cancel something due to Ed’s ailments and I hope she is p**sed off enough with him to force him to see a specialist because so far he has ignored what is an obvious problem. *Rant over* Seriously though, I do hope he takes time out to get himself checked over because I’m only too aware that a nasty diagnosis could be sitting there waiting to be discovered and the longer you leave them...

I had a bad night again last night due to insomnia and felt quite rough this morning. I now manage about 2 hour’s uninterrupted sleep a night which isn’t exactly ideal. I wanted to do something but didn’t feel up to trailing around town for a couple of hours. In the end Gill and I headed out in the car just to get out and eventually landed at Billy and Steph’s. Steph had been unwell the previous day and was relaxing in the bath when we arrived so we sat and chatted to Billy until she surfaced. Things had improved slightly overnight and she was feeling a little brighter than yesterday but not up to playing Warcraft so offered her computer for my use. As much as I wanted to jump up and get online that’s not why we had popped out so I insisted on being sociable for a while longer. OK a short while longer.

Billy and I logged on and he brought his Paladin out for a play which is just as well as I had jumped ahead of myself and was trying quests for higher level players. His healing skills were in great demand although we did have to utilise Resurrect on my character on more than one occasion. Sam was also online at the same time and posted my character several nice, useful items which although for a higher level character, are now sitting in the bank awaiting my advancement. Steph also popped online to throw even more items at me so I must have the best equipped level 10 rogue on the server by now.

We played for a couple of hours, getting Itwasntme up to 10th level, before we retired back to the living room to watch Newcastle put on a workmanlike but effective display in beating Everton 2:0. Things are really looking up at Newcastle since the departure of Graeme Souness, we are now unbeaten in 5 games and have won 4 of them. However neither Glenn Roeder nor Alan Shearer have the required couching badges to enable them to continue in post until the end of the season so something is going to have to be sorted before then. I hope Fat Freddie has enough nonce to employ a sensible couch this time i.e. not Sam Allardice or Paul Jewel, otherwise it will be a case of one step forward and two back.

In the end we didn’t make it to see Russ play and I was in bed before 9. If I had been out I may have lasted longer but who knows? As it happens I had yet another poor night and was awake again by 2 am. Ho hum.

A Hero Is Born

It’s not that my presents have been burning a hole in my pocket or anything but when Gill phoned to say that she would be working late last night I took the opportunity to head over to Graeme and Sam’s to use and abuse one of their computers. I headed over without even knowing if they were in or not or announcing my impending arrival. Luckily they were in and didn’t turn me away at the door. After minimal pleasantries Sam said “So do you want to create a World of Warcraft character on the computer? Well do you? Eh? Eh?”

So it came to pass that Itwasntme the sneakiest rogue ever to set foot on Azjol Nerub was freed to wreak havoc upon the world. The loathsome ranks of the Horde were seen to quake in their very boots/sandals/hooves/bare feet at the news and rejoicing was heard throughout the lands of the Alliance. It wasn’t long before the legions of foul creatures that have been infesting the Alliance lands were put to the sword, wrongs were righted and I helped myself to some loot. News of my arrival also prompted a request from a prominent guild that I join their ranks, to which I agreed, and several members of said guild travelled to meet me and bestow me with gifts.

In other words I managed to haul my characters sorry ass through the starting quests without too many problems and Graeme managed to get in touch with the guild master, Steph’s brother Stu, and I was assimilated into their ranks. Graeme also brought his main character, a Gnome Warlock by the name of Koolar, down to Northshire Abbey to give me some gear and watch me beat up on some low levels grunts. A further guild Warlock also popped over to see me and ply me with several useful items including a couple of much sought after bags.

By the end of a couple of hours playing, during which Gill had turned up and I downed a couple of glasses of wine, I had managed to complete the starting quests and raise Itwasntme to level 7. As much as I really wanted to carry on I was aware that Gill wanted to be away to get something to eat and I was taking up valuable gaming time from Sam, so I called it quits before I pushed my luck too far. It was very enjoyable starting a character I knew I would be able to continue with once I had all my own gear in place and I believe Itwasntme and I are going to become very close over the following months.

Discarded Fantasies

With yet another change of mind the doctors looking after my Gran now do think she suffered a stroke. In some ways this is good because it means that she is to be transferred to a specialist stroke ward, when a bed becomes available, and will receive proper rehabilitation but obviously she would rather not have had the stroke. She is apparently starting to complain about her predicament which indicates she is starting to feel like her old self. The current estimate is that she will be an inpatient for about six weeks and impatient for about as long.

Yesterday started poorly for Gill who could finally bottle up and ignore her frustrations/despair at my health problems no longer. I had been waiting for this day since last weeks appointment set back so it came as no surprise; I’m just pleased it came. After a bout of tears I informed her that she was taking the day off and I would join her. It turned out to be a good day allowing us both to voice the concerns that had been dogging us recently and, I hope, releasing most of the stress that had been building up over the past few weeks.

The day off also allowed us to tackle the back room again, this time concentrating on the two cupboards that reside in there. The cupboards mainly contained hundreds of books that I have picked up over the years and I was determined to get rid of as many as I could. Well, when I say 'determined to get rid of', what I mean is 'resigned myself to losing'. In the end I found it easier to part with them than I had thought, the main victims being large parts of my science fiction/fantasy and horror collections, mostly American import stuff I had picked up in Timeslip/Forbidden Planet. I’ll try and flog these to Keel Row books in North Shields but don’t hold out much hope so if anyone out there...

As for World of Warcraft, I am now a proud citizen of the Azjol Nerub server and as such will now be able to interact with all the other sad geeks who I know play. Of course I will only be able to interact with said geeks by using their gear at the moment, hmm...any offers?

Presents

Over the weekend Gill and I tried to put our new positive attitude to work and actually do something rather than sit moping around. We started by popping up to the local Post Office depot to collect a couple of packages that we missed through the week. One was a package containing my dads’ birthday present and the others were my birthday presents from Gill.

For my dad we had purchased some folders and wallets to hold Birth/Death Certificates etc for his genealogy documents. My dad has been looking into our family history for a number of years now and has accrued a vast number of certificates. Gill, who is also a keen genealogist, had purchased some for herself a while back and found them a great help in keeping things organised. We had bought some for my dad at Christmas and he liked the idea so much he asked for further sets for his birthday.

On the way down from the depot we popped into Tesco’s to pick up something for lunch and a bunch of flowers for my mam. I could tell she has not taken the current situation with my Gran particularly well and I thought the flowers might just brighten her day a little. It turns out that the doctors are not sure my Gran has had a stroke now and feel the lack of power in her hand may be down to the fact that she lay on her arm for a couple of hours cutting of the blood supply to her hand. How long it takes for her to get back to the sheltered housing is uncertain because with her shoulder possibly broken and arm strapped up she is unable to self care. I just hope my mam has learnt her lesson and doesn’t offer to look after her because that would be a thankless, painful chore.

Getting back home Gill allowed me to open my pressies even though my birthday is over a month away. In truth I knew what was in the packages because I had been bleating on about them for so long Gill just bought them to shut me up I think. The first package contained World of Warcraft an online multiplayer computer game and the second a guide to the game. I have played a couple of times over at Billy & Steph’s and Graeme and Sam’s and I’m totally hooked. It must be the easiest way to lose several hours without being aware of it known to man and as such looked like the ideal thing to keep me occupied whilst I’m recuperating from my surgery.

There are of course a couple of problems which will have to be addressed in order for this to be possible. As things currently stand I can’t actually play the game at home because neither my computer nor internet connection are anywhere near good enough to support the game. I have purchased a couple of computer magazines to check out the latest gear and it looks as if I’m facing a bill of about £1200 to secure something that wont become obsolete in a couple of months as far as gaming is concerned. This is more than I had hoped but there is no point in buying something which won’t get the job done. Looking at broadband providers they all seem to be much of a muchness so I think I will just upgrade my Virgin account.

Of course I’m going to need somewhere to put all this gear so Sunday saw renewed efforts to clear the back bedroom of 10 years of accumulated crap. I tackled this as Gill worked her way around the other dumping points throughout the house. We both made really good progress and achieved quite a bit before fatigue kicked in. I think a couple of other sessions of similar length will see the problem sorted and we can then make arrangements to get telephone lines sorted and computers ordered.

Just When....

I’m now into my second day of positive thinking and already events are conspiring to test my limits. Last night I received a phone call from my mam and as soon as she spoke I could tell something was wrong. It transpires that on Wednesday night my Grandma had a fall and damaged her shoulder and was currently on the Emergency Care ward at North Tyneside General. The most recent diagnosis was that she had suffered a minor stroke and was experiencing weakness down her left side. They weren’t allowing any visitors last night in an attempt to give her some rest and do some further tests. Surely a contradiction?

My parents’ relationship with my Gran has been strained to say the least over the past year or so. In truth my dad and she have never got on and they shared what can best be described as a mutual loathing. Last year my Gran took it upon herself to sour the relationship with my mam to the point where they barely speak now and bizarrely if it wasn’t for my dad encouraging my mam to keep in touch the rift may have become permanent. In short my Gran can be a nasty piece of work when she wants to be and then wonders why people start to give her a wide berth.

I have been torn in this dispute because despite my Gran always being the epitome of loving politeness to Gill and I the way she acted towards my mam last year was inexcusable. I have limited my visits to special occasions such as her birthday and Christmas etc. and to be honest I’ve found it difficult to be civil at times. However she is still family and at times like this forgiveness needs to be exercised in order to ensure she gets the best standard of care we can secure for her. I guess we’ll be given a better indication of prognosis once the test results are available later today. In the mean time my mam worries herself silly and I hope my Gran is aware of and appreciates the forgiveness she is being shown, I guess that, with luck, time will tell.

The Cold Light Of Morning

So how do I feel today after what was a surprisingly good night’s sleep? Well, still mightily frustrated it has to be said, but also depressingly resigned to the situation. In an effort to limit any damage I emailed the secretary and apologised for any potential upset or distress I may have caused her and explained that, whilst not excusing any potential offence, my actions were totally the result of stress and frustration. I hope this draws a line under the matter because, frankly, my health is enough to worry about at the moment without any peripheral issues.

Gill and I made a pact last night to try and be a little more proactive about the situation and actually try and live something of a life during the next 4 weeks. We are both aware that this year has been a non event with regards to any sort of social interaction as we have both slipped deeper into our protective cocoons to the exclusion of both friends and family. The situation has not been helped by the fact that I only received half pay for most of last month due to accumulated sickness absence but hell you only live once and if I try really, really hard I can see that I should have a long life ahead of me that can help pay for today.

I also received a phone call from Donna last night whilst Gill was out pandering to her bosses whims; you’re a slave driver Ed! Donna has been a good friend to Gill and I for more years than I care to remember and isn’t having the best of times herself at the moment. We spent an hour and a half putting the world to rights and I think it did us both the power of good to get things off our chests. We are both looking forward to the impending gig by the Drive By Truckers at the Cluny and sounded like a pair of excited schoolgirls with Westlife tickets. I think Donna may have pulled that particular impersonation off with slightly more success than I did though. Hello Donna, if you’re watching :-)

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

Today I find myself sitting at work surrounded by a dense fog of gloom. This morning at 9:30 I was due to see my Surgeon for the first time and hopefully be given a date for my operation. However, as seems to have been the rule so far during the course of my illness, I returned from work last night and discovered two messages on my answer phone from my surgeons secretary informing me that the appointment would have to be cancelled. Apparently an emergency had arisen that afternoon and so the clinic would need to be cancelled.

Working in the Hospital I am well aware that emergencies will occur just when you least want them to and that the poor buggers who are suffering the emergency would rather not be, thank you very much. Emergencies, of course, should always take priority but boy did it take the wind out of my sails when I heard the news. Never mind I thought, at least it means Gill and I can pop open a bottle of fizz on Valentines Day and I’ll phone in the morning to get the next available appointment.

Fast forward to 2:30 this morning and I find myself lying in bed with my mind working overtime: What if they won’t be able to rearrange my appointment for later in the week? What if the emergency involved the surgeon and he is going to be unavailable for months? What if the surgeon just had to take his kids to school that morning and so cancelled his early appointments? What if the surgeon wanted to wait until Michael Barrymore had agreed to assist him during the operation? All these and many more even more far fetched notions kept me awake until the alarm went off at 6:45. Thus suitably refreshed I headed to work with a growing dread of my phone call to the surgeons secretary and the determination not to throw a hissy fit if I didn’t satisfaction.

Once at work I logged on to the PAS network which lists clinics and the patients attending them just to allay my fears that I had been the only patient cancelled. As it happens I was still down as an active patient for the clinic as were the other 4 people listed so now I was unsure as to whether the clinic had been cancelled or not. Only one thing to do: phone the secretary and find out what was going on. The first thing she said was that, yes, the clinic was indeed cancelled due to an emergency patient requiring surgery, fair enough. However she then went on to say that Mr Hasan only does one adult clinic a fortnight and the next available slot wasn’t until the 15th of March, a whole month away!

I don’t think she could tell that this had not gone down well; at worst I had assumed I might have to wait a further week or so. She took my stunned silence as an acceptance of the situation and proceeded to tell me that an appointment would be sent out in the post to me. I recovered enough to ask her to repeat what she had just told me and sure enough I had heard correctly. I was still stunned and although I asked why I couldn’t be put into the next clinic on the 1st of March I wasn’t alert enough to ask why one of those patients couldn’t be moved back a week when told that the clinic was “...Fully, in fact, over booked”. In something of a stupor I think I mumbled some thanks for her help and put the phone down. Another month! I’ve barely made it on a day to day basis up to this point, running on basic life support, never mind having to find the resolve to last for another 4 weeks.

After providing me with a cup of tea to try and get some life into me Jan suggested that I take a look on PAS to see if I had been allocated a time yet. Calling the clinic up I entered today’s date by mistake and had to shuffle through the clinics until reaching the listing for the 15th. As I passed the clinic for the 1st I happened to notice that there were only 3 slots allocated for that clinic which didn’t strike me as being either fully or over booked. Right I thought, if the secretary hasn’t yet entered any appointments into the remaining slots perhaps I could ask her to look kindly on a fellow hospital worker and slip me in.

I should have known better. Telling her that I had noticed only three appointments booked for the clinic on the 1st she rather icily informed me that Mr Hasan would only see three new patients per clinic and as she had stated previously the slots were fully booked. I apologised and said that as there had been 5 slots on the list for this week’s clinic I had assumed, wrongly apparently, that each clinic could accommodate that number. She took this opportunity to accuse me of checking up on her and calling her a liar. This is not at all what I had expected and was lost for words as she continued by suggesting that I might even have been checking other patients’ details! That was the comment that broke the spell...How dare she?

I explained, in as calm a voice as I could summon at this stage, that that was a very dangerous accusation to be making about a fellow professional and she had better qualify her comments or withdraw them. She spluttered around the subject and added that I needed to understand that every patient that comes to the clinic is concerned with their condition not just you. This was going from bad to worse faster than a UFO band reunion and I could tell that the situation was irretrievably lost. I just told her to get the appointment in the post and thanked her for the help she had given me before putting the phone down. So I now think I have an enemy for life and just wonder what surprises she is going to have in store for me. I found out later after she reported me for ‘improper use of PAS’ which, sensibly, has been investigated, found not to be the case, has been dropped and is going no further. How nice.

So here I sit stewing in my own frustration at the continued wait to see the surgeon, anger at how poorly I reacted on the phone and despair at the thought I could have inadvertently soured my relationship with my surgeon despite never even talking to him!. My boss is going to try and see if he can get things pushed forward but agrees that things don’t look too promising. Four more weeks and a non too friendly secretary who has no doubt had a word with her scalpel wielding boss, great. I’m looking forward to this with even less relish than I was previously.

Alive

Just in case you were wondering I am still alive. A combination of mild depression, fatigue, an appalling internet connection and work has kept me away from the computer. Yes that’s right work. As of Wednesday the 25th I’ve been back to work, although I haven’t picked up my patient workload because I don’t know how long I will have before my surgery. So for the moment I am just coordinating the set up of a couple of new trials and any other odds and ends I can help other people with.

It has been great being back and actually doing something constructive with my time. I must at this point thank everyone here in the unit for all the help they have given me since my return and their willingness to continue carrying the extra work I have lumbered them with. I’ll make it up to them all once I am able.

The depression has been the result of my continued wait for a surgical appointment and the seeming lack of concern exhibited by the Trust. I know I keep banging on about it but how the hell do ordinary patients cope with the stress the system causes? Anyway, I finally received my appointment to see Mr Hasan this week and will go to his clinic on the 15th of February. I assume the appointment will be an information giving exercise about the surgery and I will be given my surgical date there and then. Or is that just being too optimistic?

In anticipation of my impending surgery I now know I must do something about our internet connection. I have tried on a couple of occasions to post updates to the blog but the computer was having none of it, refusing even to connect to the update page. With the thought of three months or more recuperating and a dodgy internet connection I know that a new computer and broadband have moved from ‘would be nice’ to ‘f**king essential’! So time to finish sorting that back bedroom I guess.

I’ll back fill some details of the past couple of weeks over the weekend just you all have something to read other than me whinging.

Kate To The Rescue

Yesterday I had an appointment for an Echo-scan at the Freeman hospital. This had been arranged back in November and to be quite honest I’m not sure why they still wanted me to have it considering the MRI scans I have had previously. Never mind, it was an excuse to get out of the house so I was looking forward to it in a perverse sort of way. I popped into Town first to have a bit of a wander and bumped into Jean, my mother-in-law, who had been stood up by one of her WI cronies. She had been waiting for a good hour with still no sign of her friend. I asked her if she had called her friend on her mobile but got an embarrassed admission that she had left it at home so was unable to find out if the problem had been major or minor. I left her as she headed off to Fenwicks to get something to eat and I assume everything has worked out because she hasn’t been on the phone to pass on any bad news to Gill.

At the Freeman I spotted Kate, a secretary who used to work at NGH with me, and she waved me over. I gave her the run down of my current problems and she informed me that she was now working in the cardio unit and would I like her to check out the situation regarding my referral to a surgeon? Not half! So she took my contact details and promised to phone once she had done some snooping. The Echo itself went without problem, I think, but the operator was being tight lipped and she wouldn’t talk me through the scans as they came up, shame.

True to her word Kate phoned me today as soon as she found out what was happening. Apparently I have been referred to a Mr Hassan but have yet to be allocated a clinic appointment to see him so Kate was going to lay it on thick with the secretary to move things on for me. I dread to think what someone who has no contacts within the NHS has to go through to set the wheels in motion. What I do know though is that I will be a lot more tolerant with patients’ queries regarding appointments when I do eventually make it back to work.

Catouflage

Not the best of starts this morning. I had another poor night and when I surfaced I was somewhat woolly headed and disorientated. I was brought back to life whilst wandering barefoot to the bathroom and wondering what the damp, slightly warm feeling was under my right foot. On inspection it turns out I had just wandered through a remarkable resemblance to the map of India, complete with Sri Lanka to its side, composed wholly of cat vomit.

So, after I had hopped my way to the bath to stick my foot under the tap, I set about clearing up the mess and searched for the fur ball that no doubt accompanied it, to no avail. Despite discovering a further patch of the offending goo on the bedroom carpet which had to be dealt no fur ball materialised. It will no doubt materialise miraculously inside one of my shoes next week but until then I’m left with the unlikely proposition that Coral had just been sick and forwent the opportunity to deposit a vile lump of sodden, matted hair at the same time.

It took me a while to find Coral to admonish her for my poor start to the day as she had hijacked my new jumper and with chameleon like ability had managed to merge rather well with it on one of the chairs downstairs.

Catouflage?

Labour Of Love

As you can see I wasn’t happy with the make-over that I gave the site a couple of days ago and I have spent the intervening few days trying get it to look something like it does now.

I have to say I never imagined it would be so damned difficult to do. I assumed that if I looked on the internet for blogger templates there would be millions of the buggers and I would easily find something suitable. Oh boy was I wrong. Don’t get me wrong there were loads out there but very few simple yet classy designs that were shouting “come and use me Chris”. So what you see today is the result of butchering a couple of designs, using what amounted to the computer equivalent of a chainsaw, and stitching them back together in a slightly haphazard manner. This was not pretty surgery.

My job was not made any easier by the fact I don’t have a clue about html or whatever it is these things are designed with so my days have been spent changing numbers in the code one at a time and trying to see what effect that had. Eventually I ended up with this design and I’m quite pleased with the results, I just don’t think I could repeat it if I tried. Special thanks must go to FreeFoto.com for the picture and I would recommend the site to anyone looking for some quality photographic content.

Sofa Rummaging

There have been one or two advantages to my occasional attempts at tidying the back room, namely the uncovering of long lost gift vouchers. The recent haul has been £15 worth of HMV vouchers and a further £17 for WH Smiths, not bad really. This did of course lead to another pocket, hole, burning situation which could only be remedied by a trip into Town.

Gill was heading in early to meet up with her friend Jacqui so I tagged along for the bus journey and we went our own separate ways once there. I’m something of a creature of habit and so hit the same shops I always do, in the same order. This is a route that has been honed over the years to allow the greatest potential return for my spending and I can’t see it changing any time soon. Once again it proved fruitful and, by the time I had met with Bill, my brother Graeme and a friend-free Gill a couple of hours later, I had a very good idea of how much was going to be spent and where.

In the end my return for the days wandering was: a John Hughes DVD box set including The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles and Weird Science; the Rush R30 DVD special edition with a multitude of extras; and 3 CD’s, Styx’s Cyclorama, Bon Jovi’s This Left Feels Right (for Gill) and a double compilation of NWOBHM by Neat Records artists. I have to say I am very pleased with the results and look forward to giving them all a spin, well all apart from Bon Jovi. Not bad for a rummage behind the sofa, so to speak.

Tales From The Yellow Room

I finally managed to get off my lazy arse on Wednesday and make a trip down to Whitley Bay and chez Smith. I think the last time Sid and I had any sort of face to face chat would have been ten plus years ago so I was a little concerned that the day would be filled with embarrassing silences. However, we both seemed to hit our stride from moment one and it turned out to be a case of knowing when to shut up rather than not knowing what to say.

Over a number of pots of Earl Grey and a rather fine bacon and mushroom sarnie we covered a multitude of topics including old acquaintances from years gone by, Sid’s initiation into the world of Robert Fripp and the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, amongst others. I was also a bit of a hit with Baby Wilson who settled on my lap for most of the afternoon and kept me well toasty as we sat in the famous Yellow Room.

We parted with each of us stating we should try to ensure it isn’t a further ten years or so before we do this again and I hope we manage to make good on those words. All in all a very pleasant way to spend a few hours and it was certainly the highlight of my week, although considering the only other time I’ve crossed the doorway this week was to go to hospital perhaps that’s selling it a bit short.

A Change Is As Good As...

As you can see I've been bored today and have played around with my template a bit, well OK, a lot. All I really wanted to do was add some links but as I'm so cack handed at this thing this option proved to be the only one I could get to work. I'll give it a few days to see if I like it and can improve on it. Shouldn't be too hard but I bet it proves to be.

Menses the Merciless?

As part of the deal with the renal consultants regarding my return to work I agreed that my GP should be involved in the decision on my suitability for work. So yesterday I phoned the surgery to try and secure an appointment with the GP who has been dealing with my sick notes and prescriptions. I foolishly assumed that if I had been requested by my consultant to see a particular GP then the surgery would make sure such a consultation was possible, pah.

The GP in question is in surgery two days next week, Tuesday and Friday, but I was informed that all her pre-booked slots had been filled and I would be unable to book anything for those days yet. Rather what I would have to do was hang on the phone from 12:00 on Monday to try and book an appointment with the GP then for the following day and if that failed try the same thing on Thursday for Friday’s clinic. My protestations that this was something that my consultant had requested I do fell on deaf ears and I was told that “this is the way the system works for everyone”. Or not as the case may prove to be.

On a lighter note there has been some of the most fun to be had on both television and radio recently in the form of the news bulletins, no seriously, try this at home it will be fun for all the family. All you have to do is wait for the part in the bulletin where they discuss the impending Liberal Democrat leadership battle and see how many times the reporters miss pronounce Sir Menzies Campbells name. Yesterday during a Radio 5 Live broadcast I counted 5 different efforts in the space of 2-3 minutes, some by the same reporters. We had Ming, Menace, Mingis, Menses and Menzies, just think of the confusion with the voting public, the guy doesn’t stand a chance.

The Drugs Don’t Work

The last few weeks have been a bit of a mixed bag for me. Whilst I have enjoyed the Christmas festivities and some very entertaining visits to various friends’ houses I have, generally, been under a bit of a cloud. This cloud appeared in the run up to Christmas and has stayed with me ever since. It hasn’t been a depressive type of cloud rather the unable to sleep through the night type which has led me to feel very tired and run down during the day. It all started with the introduction of some new medication prescribed by my renal consultant. So armed with a steely determination to try and sort it I headed to Freeman yesterday to see said consultant.

Now if you’ve been reading my previous posts you will know that I have employed a bit of top brass muscle to try and speed my journey toward good health so I wasn’t too surprised that, rather than my usual consultant, I was seen by the head of the renal department. He was very good and listened to my concerns regarding my sleep pattern and agreed to try another type of medication to see if that alleviated the problem. He also hinted at a bit of antagonism toward the cardiac unit with regard to the length of time things were taking and is writing to them to try and speed up the process even further.

I have a feeling I may have upset one or two people in my efforts to get things moving and from what this new consultant inferred my ‘case’ has even gone as far as Len Fenwick, the Chief Executive of the Trust, oops. Still, we don’t get many perks working in the NHS and it is in the best interest of the Trust to get me back to work as soon as possible. On the subject of which I have been told that if my sleeplessness improves over the next week or so I can go back to work before my operation, which is great news.

Elsewhere, the back room tidying project remains very much ongoing and is likely to be so for a while.

Misplaced Childs Hoodies – Youth Work Rocks 2005

Misplaced Childs Hoodies – Youth Work Rocks 2005

Apocolyptica – Life Burns
Coheed and Cambria – Ten Speed
And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead – Worlds Apart
Neal Morse – The Mans Gone
System of a Down – Radio/Video
Dead Soul Tribe – Toy Rockets
Threshold – Static
Alterbridge – Open Your Eyes
Dream Theatre – I Walk Beside You
Opeth – Hope Leaves
Porcupine Tree – Shallow/Lazarus
Nightwish – Nemo
Sonata Arctica – My Seine
Within Temptation – Angels
Gov’t Mule – Same Price
Spocks Beard – As Long as We Ride
Blind Guardian – Valhalla

Billy’s first ‘best of’ follows a path quite similar to my own and we have 6 crossover acts, although Nightwish remain the only band to feature on mine and Rob’s efforts. As I suspected Billy’s collection leans heavily toward the ‘new prog’ end of the spectrum and throws up a couple of things worthy of further investigation, in particular the new AYWKUBTTOD album and Porcupine Tree.

Special mention should also go to Alterbridge which, for some inexplicable reason, failed to make it onto my disc. The album was the best collection of modern rock music I have heard in a long time and I can only assume I sub-consciously excluded them to save myself the trauma of reliving the fact I missed their Carling Academy gig due to my ‘house arrest’.

RH – Highway to Harrogate 2005

RH – Highway to Harrogate 2005

Judas Priest – Worth fighting For
Foo Fighters – DOA
Allen/Lande – Battle
Brazon Abbot – My Resurrection
Maria McKee – Seasons of the Fair
Journey – Place in Your Heart
Rammstein – Rosenrot
Thunder – I Love You More…
Bruce Dickinson – Devil on a Hog
Iommi Hughes – Grace
Stage Dolls – Get a Life
Audioslave – Doesn’t Remind Me
Robin Beck – Do You Miss Me
Nightwish – Sleeping Sun
Alice Cooper – Saga of Jesse James
Blue Tears – Let it Rain
Demon – Standing on the Edge
Bruce Springsteen – All the Way Home
Deep Purple – Girls Like That

Robs end of year ‘best of’ throws up just one crossover with my own in the shape of Nightwish and is its usual broad spectrum of styles. Well, when I say broad spectrum, I mean in a rock music sense, there’s no jazz or classics here.

My first impressions is that it’s a steady rather than spectacular effort this year, sorry Rob, but that is probably down to my own current listening tastes. Best tracks on the CD and definite purchase potential go to: Maria McKee who is in fine voice as always; Alice Cooper who has, it seems a return to form after a couple of decidedly weak releases; and Demon for flying the flag for rock music that screams “We’re British” at you.

Rob also added his nominations Favourite Album (Alice Cooper – Dirty Diamonds), Best Live Act (Scorpions) and Biggest Disappointment (Judas Priest).

Resolution Number One

Today I intend to start work on clearing the back room of at least some of its clutter. This is a job Gill and I have been putting off for far too long and, of course, the longer this has gone on the more crap gets dumped in here. To get to the PC requires negotiating an assault course that the SAS would be proud to complete and I’ve finally lost patience with the situation.

The hard part of this will be parting with most of said crap because I’m one of those compulsive hoarder types who holds on to anything and everything in the knowledge that I may need it in 25 years time. But needs must and If I’m to convince Gill that installing broadband and getting a new supa doopa PC is a great idea then sacrifices will need to be made.

I give us 2 minutes before we have a disagreement about the necessity of an item of crap.

Out With The Old

Happy New Year to one and all, here's wishing you all good health and happiness.

The New Year was seen in with an evening of music and conversation in the company of Billy and Steph. I don’t think any of us particularly enjoy New Year so this was very much a quiet, non celebratory night in. We didn’t even drink that much but had a pleasant night all the same.

Congratulations should go to Steph who actually managed to see the New Year in this year!