Take my handicap

It’s easy, sometimes, to feel sorry for yourself. I’ve recently been having trouble with the mask/respirator that I have to wear during the night.

It has a built in humidifier; that works great, most of the time. Recently, however, because of the sudden drop in temperature during the night the moisture condenses and I wake up with a mask full of water – that’s fun, that is!

I could get all grumpy about it but I had to laugh, the other day, when I met (via www.aTasteOfGarlic.com) someone else who suffers from Sleep Apnea. He has to wear a a gum shield top and bottom which keeps his jaw from dropping back and closing his windpipe. I told him that I was glad I didn’t have to do that – it doesn’t sound like much fun.

He replied saying… “My mum’s best friend has a sort of Darth Vader outfit. She has a nightmare each time she flies anywhere. All straps around the head and a vacuum cleaner type oxygen feeder making gurgling sounds next to the bed. Bloody hell, I hope you don’t have that too!”

Um, that’s exactly what I’ve got. But little things like that are sent to try us. You can’t let them get you down.

I saw this sign outside E. Leclerc today and it made me think.

All the best

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A short break.

The short break in postings on this site was due to an unexpected visit to hospital. I went in for a checkup and ended up staying for a month!

However, I am back home now and, hopefully, am finished with doctors and nurses sticking needles in me and doing other unforgivable things – at least for the time being!

All the best

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A quiet drink.

The Girlie and I went to the doctor’s this morning.

We had to discuss the results of my recent brain scan (all clear) and how my new medication was working for me.

I was rather worried that (1). I would be sent back to work (and I know that I’m not really ready for that), and (2). One of the results of my last blood test indicated a problem with my liver!

I was very worried that I was going to need a Liver Transplant (which would involve lots of internal medical stuff), and… undoubtedly, loads of injections!

Read more about… A quiet drink.

The last supper!

I’m going for my brainscan tomorrow; so I’ve decided to treat myself tonight.

It’s not that I’m particularly worried about the scan (apart from a nagging uncertainty that they won’t actually find any sign of a brain, at all!)

What really scares the hell out of me is that they are going to give me an injection first – AND I HATE INJECTIONS!

Read more about… The last supper!

What’s happening?

I returned to work (at the local pig abattoir), a few months ago.

Rather than returning my old department (Conditionment; where pork chops and other bits of dead pig are packed into boxes for freezing – and where my job was to put those boxes onto pallets), I now work in Formage Cartons.

That means I work with the team that makes all the boxes for the whole abattoir – it’s hard work!

On the whole, I was enjoying my new work (although, being based in the roof of the building did mean that it got very hot!)

Only time will tell if I can cope with that..

Read more about… What’s happening?

Why the silence?

“It’s been an awful long time since I’ve updated this site. There’s a simple reason and I’d like to explain.

During 2006 and the start of 2007, I felt that I was getting very tired and, although my life was wonderful (disregading the old Bessie’s habit of breaking down whenever she was grumpy), I sort of knew that something was wrong.

The photo shows that I had been letting myself go a bit and had that haunted/tired look about me.

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A walk, memories and a dream.

Yesterday, after work, I decided to go for a little walk around the block.

The walk took me past a farm (well, where I live, all my walks do). As I passed the cowshed, I got a whiff of that cowshed smell.

And, with it, a flood of memories.

My Granny and Grandpa used to have a farm in Constantine, Cornwall.

Everytime I go past a cowshed, I have a vivid memory of watching the cows being milked and of seeing the young calfs.

Now, accordingy to my father, Grandpa sold his farm when I was 9 years old – strange that I should have such detailed memories.

Last night, I had a strange dream. Normally, I don’t remember my dreams but, this one is still with me, now – many, many hours later.

Read more about… A walk, memories and a dream.