Monday 29 March 2010

One wheel on my wagon.......

Quick tip.

My wheels (which double as my computer chair) have inflatable tyres. Just like a bicycle.

Seems I have a double puncture :(

So I contacted the Mobility shop I bought it from, and I was amazed at how much it would cost for them to sort it out.

Had a chat with a mate, who said that like a bicycle, the size of the wheel - in this case a 37 - 5.40 or 24" x 1 3/8" is a standard size. He suggested a local bike repair shop would be cheaper.

Since I don't fancy levering off a tyre and replacing an inner tube myself, and as much as I'd love to see my Bear sweating over a hot tyre iron, (Phew, is it hot in here?) I got son-o-mine to give them them a ring.

Third of the cost.

All Bear has to do is nip down there on the bus with the wheels. Luckily my wheels have hit-the-button-and-pop-off wheels.

So now you know :)


I'll be back soon - I meant to post about aphasia - but the Stroke Association magazine Stroke News beat me to the punch with a short and excellent article it by another overcomer. Maybe laters :)

If you want to learn more about stroke, it's effects and how to avoid it, visit The Stroke Association Charity, even if you aren't a survivor or a carer. Visit Talkstroke on the site, and ask any questions you may have. You don't have to be in the UK. You can also request a regular magazine, Stroke News, which is free of charge. If you'd like to donate or raise funds for the The Stroke Association, you'll find various ways of doing so there too.

Flumps

Got 'The Glumps' today.

Until the end of last year, I was visited regularly by a very dear friend for a couple of hours who's just about to hit 80 years old. We hit it off right from our first meeting 30 years ago, despite the 25 year difference in our ages (and no, I'm not 105).

Due to increasing infirmity, he had to stop visiting, and I've really missed him.

I've always tried to hide the true extent of my disabilities from him, which is really very easy in your own home, where you know where everything is, and the toilet is just a hop, slip and a bump away.

But the other day I discovered a downside for doing that. It was the 40th anniversary of a church we both used to attend, and he received an invite to attend, and really wanted me to meet up with him there.

He knows I don't travel very well, though he doesn't quite know why. Tho' the church is well equipped for 'people with disabilities' (gosh, I hate that phrase) it just isn't practical for me sit through a sermon or three - I'd be a major distraction, because when I have to 'go' I have to go. No two ways about it. Amongst other things.

I had to come clean, and he was unable to disguise the disappointment and hurt in his voice. It's taught me a lesson - if someone loves you, it doesn't pay to hide too much from them.

So, as my 13 year old lass would say, I have the Flumps. But I've learned something important.

Tuesday 23 March 2010

Jabba

Well, I've done it. Put my foot down. I've told the family I want my garden hut back.

I've been very patient. But when a man gets to a certain age, he needs his hut, and for me, it's now.

All that "we need to save those boxes in case something goes wrong" or "where else are we going to put the mower?" is just plain wrong. What's wrong with scissors?

I've a table to strip back to pine. A kitchen trolly to repair. But most of all, I've an unused old computer that I'd like to strip back to basics and do something different with. It's a bit of a challenge I want to take on.

I've got this idea in my head of teak and brass and maybe some glass, which is going to be hard because computers like to be cool - and those are are all insulators. More, it has to be quiet, which means minimal fans, as I'd like it to use it in the living room as a media server - a machine to store movies and music to supply the other machines on our home network.

But - and this is the bit I'm looking forward to - since one side of my bod is a little disobedient, I've decided I WILL use power tools too. This, is going to be a challenge. I like my fingers.

And since I treated myself to a prezzy of a nice little camera (a panny dmc-tz7) I'm going to document my progress now and again.

Why Jabba? Star Wars. It's a hut, innit :)

Saturday 20 March 2010

Back soon.

Sorry to be away for awhile. A combo of being off colour and net-a-phobia. I get the latter now and again. I wish I could explain it - but I can't. I've been around the Internet before their WAS an Internet (1960's) as such, but just now and again............ (shrug) maybe I'm just a bit crap at relationships.

My eldest lass has had her first scan, at 11 weeks. I'm annoying her by calling the chilled out 5 cm thingie 'Elvis'



Now then, if you zoom in, (ctrl +) you can see it's legs are crossed and it's arms behind it's head. Chilled - my kinda kid :) Early days, early worries. But hey, - and I know it's the way scans look, it looks like Elvis :)

Wednesday 10 March 2010

Turn the sound up......

Place your mouse pointer over the bubble, and click.


Sunday 7 March 2010

Boing.

According to our Practice Nurse, I'm a Plopper.

If there's hole in the system, I apparently fall through it. "But" she smiled "it is the NHS"

She discovered for instance, I have a 'substance addiction' Now, we've known each other for years, she had no idea how that flagged up (in bright red on the computer, mind you). Dutifully, she went through my Paper Record. Then the penny dropped. I take 19 tablets a day, all prescribed. As I suspect I've mentioned before, that pans out at 133 a week, 577 a month, or 6916 a year.

The smart-arsed software in the NHS computer system flagged that up as suspicious, leading to numerous pharmacy double checks. Suspicious? SUSPICIOUS? 6916 a year I'd say so. I could throttle the government programmer who got bored one Friday night at his 70' retro night (Drag Queen Special, Free Drinks for Ladies) and input that little gem.

My dears, I have no wish to end up in rehab for anticoagulant medication. 'Substance abuse' was, of course, removed.

Plop.

Excuse me while I hide my 50 year old single Malt Genfiddich* under my desk......Ssshhh...

And, as Jimney Cricket used to say, there's more.

Those that have corresponded with me privately, know, that for a Yorkshireman, I have a somewhat unusual Christian name. So what are the chances of someone having the same name? At the same GP Practice? With a wife of the same name? Next to nil, thats what.

It's no secret I don't like going to the podiatrist appointments. But I can't blame the podiatrist for that. First, the podiatrist was a bit aggressive. It wasn't the one I normally see. Which was odd. So I asked about the usual lass, and I was was told brusquely "she requested a swop". 'Course, I asked why and received no answer. The lady was so aggressive she caused a little damage, which is a big no-no.

A month later, my appointment failed to arrive. So my Bear queried it, was given an appointment for me. (Not dropped off have you?) As usual, Bear phoned up the day before to confirm the appointment. The GP did, then realised that the podiatrist had 'made a fake'. An appointment had been made on a day the podiatrist never visited.

To cut a long story short, it turned out that a bloke of the same name, with a wife of the same name, exactly 10 years older than me was mean, cussed, nasty and abusive. Guess who's medical record 'abusive' ended up on? Yup. It's been removed. I don't really need an appointment, but can I get one? Nope. Paper records. Can't be edited. Tippex? Nope. That would be 'falsification'. Sheesh.

Plop.

I've received a letter telling me I failed to turn up for hospital appointments four times. I wrote and said I hadn't received them. As it happens, the Consultant is a born-again Christian chap I've known for 25 years. No worries he said. Don't need to see you, you're doing ok. Just let me know if there's any probs. Can't explain why you got the letter. Then I received another............

Plop
.

Funny old life, isn't it ?

*1My spell checker threw up 'Genocide' as a suggestion. Hmmm.
*2 Ken Goodwin fan myself. Yes, I'm a certain age.