lolabobs: (angels)
1. So there is a chick, but it belongs to another gull. This is the only truth I am prepared to accept now.

2. I went to the Doctor this morning. He saw me in the waiting room and told me to go and wait in his room, whilst he was off doing I don't know what. There were letters on his desk, and his pc was on and open. If I were in a movie, I would have stolen lots of data and amended someone's records. Or at the very least, proved my Doctor was a drug dealing criminal mastermind. Instead I sat there nipping my arm, because I was a bit broken this morning.

Time waiting in the surgery and plotting the overthrow of Evil!Doc was considerably longer than actual consultation time. Basically I have more pills and they are now on repeat prescription, so I don't have to go back to see him (He knows I'm onto him.) I accepted this today, 'cos like I said, was too wibbly to contradict, but I *will* go back if things don't improve.

3. This was all over by 9.30am and my instinct was to return home and go to bed, but as I have to go to work tomorrow, I thought I should attempt to build some stamina (as, prior to today, I have only been outside for 30 minutes in a week and a half). So I went to Reydon and *finally* photographed The Angel. This is a statue in a church yard I spotted around 4 years ago and have been wanting to get at with a camera ever since. So now I have the equipment off I went.

The Angel )

It actually turned out into a ice morning - I drove around aimlessly after Reydon, wafting along various country lanes, through small villages, stopping into random churchyards in the hope of other beautiful finds. It lightened my mood no end.

4. I might go into my back yard and chop down some of the neighbour's ivy. (It's a derelict neighbour and it threatens to block my access. It was always a job for Daddy.
lolabobs: (angels)
And for all but two days of it, I've been lain on my sofa feeling sorry for myself. Which in itself is unpleasant, but it limits the inspiration to say something more interesting than "I've been flaked out on the sofa for 5 days feeling sorry for myself."

Today, though, I made an attempt to sort out my kindle fic - the kindle itself is sorted into fandom, but I've kind of chucked everything I download (I'm talking about fanfic here, not novels) into a kindle folder on my pc, and so that contains everything, higgledy piggledy, and includes all the ones that I've gotten halfway through then deleted in disgust, or boredom or frustration, and I really need it sort it all out. I've started at least.

My kindle content is, well, I bought a slightly less than official set of discs containing 9000 books, so, my kindle consists of the Potters, Pratchett, Reacher and a few other 'comfort' reads. Plus for some reason 19 Dresden books, when I haven't read any of those and can never bring myself to start. Someone must have said they're good for me to click on them when I saw them! Anyway. Those aside, the rest is fanfic. Which is nice, 'cos it means I'm never far away from some porny hurt comfort. But I'm not fully savvy on converting files, so if it isn't on AO3 in a mobi file, I can't read it.

Anyway. I started listing and foldering and sorting things out. And then I got distracted by reading and that's as far as I got. However, as I still find moving further than the bathroom and back slightly impossible, I anticipate I'll get time to sort further tomorrow.

My Mum has been a sweetheart though. She's spent Friday and Saturday here with me, feeding cats on demand, replenishing my hotwater bottle (pretty much on demand) and just mothering me to within an inch of my life. :)
lolabobs: (angels)
I spoke too soon when I commented upon my recovery.

I woke up. I felt good. I showered, cleaned the bathroom and did the washing.

Then I spent the rest of the day throwing up prolifically and painfully.

More Lewis, which is the ONLY good thing about the day.
lolabobs: (angels)
It came on literally moments after I noticed in my work diary that I hadn't been sick from work in 10 months. Literally within 10 minutes I had to rush to the loo for unwellness. I didn't think "all in the mind" can work that quickly (I can't spell the psychosomething word and am too weak and feeble to google it.)

Anyway. It means I have done naught but lie under a hot water bottle watching Lewis, so every cloud and all that.

Ouchy pain hurt though :(
lolabobs: (angels)
So things continue to be shit. I'm really struggling at the moment. Life is work, Mum and not sleeping (or nightmares, still not sure which I prefer!)

So work: The Government have decided my job is no longer needed, they're changing it so that only 20% of offenders will be managed by Probation Officers, the rest will be farmed out to private companies and volunteers, with payment being target driven. No thought as to how you assess achievement of targets, no thought as to how to manage fluctuating risk, who does assessments, who picks up the pieces - the response to a question around offenders going on to commit serious offences without the current monitoring and risk management was a shrug and effectively "shit happens".

The reality of it, for our office and our numbers, is that we will need 3-5 Probation Officers only to manage the numbers, and none of the lower grade staff. Which is 70% redundancy for POs in my office, 100% for lower grades. The goal is that Probation services will create private companies and TUPE us across, but then they'd have to win the contracts and our salaries and leave etc wouldn't really be protected. All this will be made final in a week or two and will probably be instigated within the year.

If I lose my job? Well, I'm not qualified for another role without further training and have no money to start yet another degree. I'm lucky in that I will be able to move back with mother if it becomes a necessity but it's still shite on a stick while it's all so unknown.

In the meantime, I'm working 12-13 hour days trying to manage an excessive caseload and getting nowhere. Spending my days getting shouted at and threatened and am very clearly not waving but drowning.

I went to the doctor yesterday, for my ulcer medication - he says it should be better by now and has threatened me with further hospital referrals if I don't improve. He was talking to me, then stopped and asked what was wrong and I realised I was crying. He's a lovely chap. (Last week when we took Mum, he likened her kidneys to a tea strainer, then pointed out that hers was "a very old tea strainer"). He talked to me for a bit and wanted to sign me off, offering 3 times but I said no. Not quite sure why now, but there it is.

In the meantime if a man in lavender glasses stabs me, I foretold it in my dreams. So yay me
lolabobs: (angels)
"All over for another year."

I had a Christmas and I had a birthday. Thank you for your greetings and pretty pictures and cards. Lovely things.

On my birthday I did lunch with a friend, then shopping, then my Brother and sister in law visited, then my friend and her two gorgeous girls. Then we had takeaway and interspersed throughout there were presents and loveliness. Then I waited for my friend P to arrive for a much delayed rendezvous. And she arrived and it was grand. For 5 minutes. Then my ulcer exploded and I was ill and ill and ill with yuckiness. And she took me home with my head in a bucket amid much groaning.

I stayed up. I would say it was to await Santa, but my head remained in the bucket for a significant number of hours, so I didn't see him arrive. Still I then slept and woke up moderately refreshed. Christmas fare took the form of cream crackers and a particularly daring baked potato, which was slightly untraditional, but never mind.

P continuing her very kind friendness collected me and took me to my mother's, and there were yet more presents and the aforementioned exciting potato meal, then friends visited and then family. It was,despite the inauspicious start a rather lovely day.

Presents were very much of the good, including books, cds and dvds, vouchers for books and theatre tickets, perfume, (nice) clothes, alcohol and chocs. In fact there were only two items that invited incredulity - a calander - which was perfectly sweet, with pictures of cute kitten, but was approx A3 sized and bigger than comprehensible (with nowhere to write on) and a filofax from 1990. (And I know I sound evil, but I'm mocking with love and gratitude.)

And it's still not over, with one pile o'presents left to open.

Work tomorrow - which, the least said about the better. I am wondering if I can get in ridiculously early to get it over and done with, but the early morning Lola doesn't really talk to me and I don't think she'll play along.
lolabobs: (Default)
Friday I had a dodgy throat.
Saturday morning I gashed my knee open on my shower screen.
Saturday lunch time I bruised my elbow helping a friend's father mend Mum's window.
Saturday night my ulcer decided to explode and I spent all night throwing up.
Sunday and Monday: I couldn't move due the elephant sitting on my chest.
Today I went back to work, spent the day unable to breath or talk. Left off early.
Got a migraine.

Enough already.
lolabobs: (Default)
well then, I do have an ulcer.

It's a stress related, acid exacerbated by spicy food, stress (and alcohol and smoking but I don't do those) ulcer, not a bacteria caused ulcer. This means it can't be treated with antibiotics and go away nicely in a fortnight. Instead I have PPI (acid reducing) medication for the next few months and manage your diet/stress. Hmm. I can do the former with some degree of ease, the latter not so much.

Hmm. Anyhoo, at least they know what it is and what's causing the awful pain/sickness flare ups.

I shall be sure and point out to work when I have my (eventual) sickness review how they are contributing to my pain and woes.

!
lolabobs: (Default)
My boob has been on fire all day; the holes hurt, the bruise is bruisey and the flesh is swollen and sore. The dressing gave me an allergic reaction (as I warned them it would) and it is scarlet and tender.

But I don't care because they called and it's a BENIGN fibrocystic mass.

Yay!
lolabobs: (Default)
I'm a very plumptious woman, which means my boobaloos are enormous. I'm also quite tall, so my enormous boobies check in around 4.5feet off the ground. Or alternately around about head height if you're a very small nurse. In general terms this isn't an issue, but when attempting to wrestle said boobies into a mammogram machine, and standing topless in order to do so, it becomes slightly more relevant.

In other words, I've had a fun afternoon.

First I was manhandled by a consultant who palpitated, prodded and probed the girls, moving my arms into odd positions and squidging my baps at will. I felt a bit embarrassed by this, my breasts don't normally get a lot of attention and it felt... off. By the end of the afternoon however, his manipulations were as mundane as a handshake.

Before being sent off I was given a carrier bags for my clothes and a delightfully small, backless gown to cover my embarrassment. (Believe there isn't a gown in the world big enough.) -

I was sent to the mammogram palace, which is where I came face to areola with Nurse Pat. Nurse Pat wasn't terribly talkative but made up for it in tactility. This was my first mammogram and I'd heard about the squeezing machine, and the 'slightly uncomfortable' nature of the technology. I hadn't expected to be bending and stretching in evermore strange directions, while a diminutive dominatrix maneuvered my mammaries like they were silly putty. A whole new meaning to 'lift and separate' - And the 'squeezing'? I thought they were going to pop! (On a serious note, how can that be good for you?)

Gown on again and back to the waiting room. Some time later I went for an ultrasound. And the third set of people to see me topless. New doctor introduced herself and squirted me with gel. (Which is heated nowadays and was more of a shock than the cold stuff.) She waggled the thing over my boob for ages. Then had me sit up. With my hand in the air (like I don't care) while she viewed some more.

It was at this point I began to feel like Gulliver. This doctor couldn't reach me properly, so we had to move to a new room so she could use a lower table. (gown on, gown off, fourth set of eyeballs on my nudity.) I lay on the new table. Well, most of me does, my knees downwards just kinda hung off the edge. Low table, short table. Still I curled up as best I could and she peered intently at the screen for another age.

Things are not as they should be. Maybe. Maybe they are. She was uncertain and talked about 'something that might not be there, keeps catching my eye.'

Which boiled down to biopsy.

Which boiled down to laying on my side (arms above my head) while she stuck needles into me and cut off bits. Local anaesthetic first, which ironically was painless. Then she stabbed in the other needle and cut a chunk out. As I yelped out an involuntary 'OW!" and left the table by inches, she enquired gently "Did that hurt?" You think?

Luckily I was too busy suppressing my big girly tears to be sarcastic, but c'mon.

She then cut out two more bits. Then in at attempt at fairness decided to replace the flesh and I now have a piece of metal lodged in me. (Apparently the thing that might or might not be there is very hard to find and so, just in case it is there, the metal will enable them to find it next time. Kind of an X marks the spot.)

Once they've finished Mini Nurse (who has followed me through all the rooms) kindly stands and puts ALL her weight on my breast - to "stop it bruising."

Then, perhaps it's time for another mammogram or two. But it's even better with bleeding holes and bruising, an absolute joy.

Oh the delights of my afternoon. I've never been so glad to get dressed!

The irony is, around 2 minutes into the ultrasound, she found my lump and said 'oh, that's a cyst, nothing to worry about at all'. The biopsy is because of whatever she saw/didn't see additionally on the mammograms/scan.

Waiting waiting waiting now.
lolabobs: (Default)
Back to the doctor's - he's bumped things forward, so instead of waiting 3 months to see how things go, he has now referred me to the hospital for an endoscopy - seems to be quite a waiting list, so I shan't hold my breath. In the meantime I'm to keep taking the ppi, and hope I have no more incidents - I asked for advice/medication to deal with it if I do and he wouldn't give me any, saying that he didn't want to treat the symptoms without knowing what the cause was. I accepted this, but told him that if I had further flare ups or things got worse, then I would be back to argue this out with him.

So, I remain off my food and drink and in a general low level of pain - and awaiting a hospital apt for the endoscopy. Ah well, at least I'm saving money on groceries!!
lolabobs: (Default)
I'm on the mend. Went back to work today. Shouldn't have done and left immediately after the important meeting I couldn't missed and spent the remainder of the day in bed again, but I feel much improved now.

I have a GP apt Tuesday and will at least be able to see if there are any short term cures for the next flare up, whilst I await the longer term investigative processes.

In other much more amusing news, I didn't realise quite how brief my colleague can be.

We were supposed to be going to the theatre on Friday, to see a whodunnit/murder mystery. I received a text today, explaining that the company had gone bankrupt and that show would not proceed. Well, that was the gist. The actual text was

"murder cancelled."
lolabobs: (Default)
The weekend started well. Thursday evening I saw my brother, then my Mum, then my friend. Friday I got a swanky new hoover thing and then I went to Norwich, met my friend, had a meal and saw Sister Act (the musical) which was fantastic and very funny). And Saturday I had my haircut, took my Mum out for afternoon tea and my Brother got married (at Gretna).

Then
I got a migraine.
I went to bed and mid way through the night I got night terrors/paralysis. Now I know that academically, night terrors is some sort of physical confusion and things not working as they should do. Academically. And that is how I strive to deal with them. Except - I know that some people view these as ghost activity. This was the first such night terror I've had since losing Dad - so, although I know it's physiological and although I know it's better to break free of them at the earliest opportunity, before the 'visitation and voices', I couldn't. just in case. Needless to say it wasn't, and I just ended up scared *and* disappointed.

So. Then Sunday was spent in a post migraine, residual headache fog.

Until Sunday bedtime, when my possibly an ulcer,possibly something else not really chest pains decided to start - and I spent the night writing in pain, reminding myself that it was nothing to do with my chest and being s***. Normally this whole fiasco lasts a couple of hours at most - last night's endured for 10 hours. Now there isn't a part of me that doesn't ache and I'm tired and weepy.

Not least 'cos Mum came down to look after me - and had to get a taxi to do so. I miss my Daddy so much.
lolabobs: (Default)
Been to the doctor today - new medication to try. Trying to see whether I have an ulcer or not. The premise seems to be, I'm not sure what's wrong with you , so take these and when you come back I'll press here and here (yep, where it hurts) and we'll see if you go 'ow' or not.

But I like my doctor, and he's open about that being his approach, so I'm prepared to give it a go.

Plus, I decided to skive off work after the appointment, so have just spent a blessed hour in quiet solitude at home.

I'm struggling a bit with being at Mum's all the time now, not so much struggling with being with her, but with not being alone. We all know Lola is quite antisocial and needs solitude... I only get the 'running around in the morning getting ready for work' bit of the day and from 10pm to bed time. But, Mum's sister is coming to stay tomorrow for a wek, and then Mum is going back with them for another week - is it bad that I'm looking forward to that week? I've got so many things I want to do - even if just sitting somewhere in the blissful peace and quiet of an empty house is one of them*

Watch me miss her like hell and be unable to settle!


*the other is to spend a fortnight without watching Last of the Summer bloody Wine!!!!
lolabobs: (Default)
Ooh I've been a poorly bunny. Nothing of excitement, chest infection/cough/cold usual winter rubbishness - I found it quite difficult to move and breathe at the same time yesterday, but I am steadily improving. Mum gave it to me, which has been useful in the sense that every time she goes off into a panic about my not breathing properly or suchlike, I have been able to remind her that I have what she had and there is no need for emergency care. I would quite like my sinusses to be temporarily removed however. (Or permanently, do we need sinusses?)

Anyway. I've spent the last 24 hours in my pyjamas and on the phone to Mother. I have to be recovered as we are supposed to drive to Shotley tomorrow to meet with the HMS Ganges Museum man to gove them the donations and talk about Dad's ashes. That's if the threatened 15cms of snow doesn't arrive overnight.

Unrelatedly: in May last year I had a survey done to get some work done on the house as part of a Government scheme. It promised free things and seemed very shiny, but then no more was heard and I gave up on it all. But no! I received a call on Wednesday from a friendly lady wanting to arrange a man to come and view my loft. He came yesterday. My loft is accessed via a full cupboard which itself is behind a chest of drawers. I did quite well and managed to move furniture and remove all but three exceptionally boxes. This left me extremely breath challenged and I had to rely on the kindness of strangers - or the man who turned up with a tiny ladder. He was terribly kind though, because after hearing me wheeze my way up the stairs and explain my dilemma, he not only moved the boxes to allow the survey, he moved ALL the boxes into the spare room for me afterwards. So kind.

I have been promised loft insulation 'urgently' free of charge because, as he gasped several times 'you haven't got any, none at all!'. The woman also promised me fully funded wall insulation and double glazing. Golly.

I should go back nto bed now.
lolabobs: (Default)
I just told [personal profile] jekesta that I hadn't gotten as far as posting, even though I thought I ought (that rhymes) because otherwise I wouldn't. And now I am. I wasn't lying, but I made my comment out of date very quickly. Or reasonably quickly, depending how long it takes me to write this.

I was ill. On New Year's Eve I started feeling, then being, very very sick. I am blaming a chicken sandwich, though it was preceded (and accompanied) by the same sort of pain that they told me was a heart attack last time. It wasn't. It was, however, horribly unpleasant and I still have no voice X days later. I was going to put a number there but have no idea how many days issit. Anyway. I was in bed by 5pm on NYE and that's that.

I am not at work either. I went to the doctor to get my "you can go to work" certificate signed. This is progress apparantly, the doc has t say you can go back now instead of just saying you can't. Anyway, he didn't. Or did. Depending which bit of that sentence this bit goes with. Either way, I was a snivelling, shaking wreck and he said I wasn't to go to work. So. Which has left me glad and sad in equal measure. 'Cos I kinda think I should and it would proably be good for me. But it makes me feel sick whenever I think about it. But I know that I have passed the 'acceptable/sympathy' time now and people will now think I am swinging the lead/milking it. Not all the people. Not nice people, but HR type people and work people and all those. And I still don't know what to do about the Norwich work and wether I should give that up, which I want to but don't and which I think would be maybe a mistake, but then doing it was a mistake in teh first place and i haven't a clue. Oh and my doctor has referred me to someone. I don't know who. And he gave me sleeping pills to take, which I was wary about taking anyway and then the Evil Daily Mail (mum's paper. Ths is one more layer of crapness is that I see teh Mail every day) says the pills I have are EVIL and for weak people. And gragh. I know to disbelieve the Mail on principal but my brain isn't always good at that.

And my brother and I had a talk and he said that if I had to move in permanently to help Mum in the future, they wouldn't kick me out of teh house when she died. he didn't say it like that. he was very tactful and keen to make sure that I knew he wasn't expecting me to look after her and that they had talked about having her mve in with them ("Except that wouldn't work") and that they would take her cat so mine could move in with me and ....

And he took my Daddy's car away to sell it. And I saw today that the man who runs the auctions me and Dad always go to had a big accident on the 17th of November and is going to be okay but nearly wasn't and I wanted to tell my Daddy and couldn't. And my brther wanted me to stay in to receive a parcel for him tomorrow and I didn't want to, 'cos Thirsday is tehe day Mum goes out and so it is the day I go out and he was fine and got it sent to work instead but I cried and cried and cried.

Oh and he gave me a sewing machine, which he gave me Friday and he had to hunt it out of the back of his cupboard and I hit my head helping him and then he found the instructions too and it's all very kind, but I don't want it, 'cos I want a new one and my friends have clubbed together to gve me brthday money towards a new one and I don't know how to say no.

I was sent cards and ecards and virtual gifts and they were all lovely and they made me smile when I got them and I am really appreciative but I don't know who I've said Thank you to and who I haven't and so I'll say Thank you here and I know it isn't personal but I do mean it.

Oh and I got a cupcake maker for Christmas. I shall make cupcakes tomorrow. My Thursday outness has been cancelled. And I didn't know what to do instead, on my own 'cos who I was going to see I can't. That's why I looked at Fakenham to see if teh auction was on. But anyway it isn't, so I don't know where to go now. So I might make cupcakes instead. And I do have a scarf to knit and cats to fuss, but I did want to escape. Hmm.

I watched Sherlock and wasn't horrified by the pre watershed nudity; although was by the person in the daily mail who called Adler a 'slut'. And I watched H50 and there wasn't any nudity. Are those spoilers? I don't think so. And there's a programme on about Probation officer tonight, but I haven't watched it yet. I hope they don't have feisty probation Officer Anna Friel falling in love with her client.

I should go I think.
lolabobs: (ewan smoke)
I have almost no voice whatsoever - and I talk for a living. Well no, that sounds much more impressive than it is - I talk near people for a living. At people? However you classify it, today I have been croaking. Thankfully the hour and a half interview subject didn't turn up, and I've been doing a lot of three-ways today which allow others to do the work, but even so. It's not attractive.

It has garnered me a lot of sympathy however, and as I don't actually (touch wood) feel ill, I suppose I can't complain.

I took my 1974 Playboy magazine to work today (for colleague amusement, not offender!) - Those I showed all commented on the advertisements first (I'm gonna scan a couple tomorrow), then the "This is an historical document I'm looking at honest, gosh this is quite sexist isn't, what are there women in here?" pretence duly satisfied, all went on to comment (without exception) on a) Isn't it tame, normal Lads Mags show worse thant his nowadays. B) Look at the size of their Lady Gardens and c) Collars and cuffs don't match!

It was quite educational.
lolabobs: (kahuna)
hurrah! I am back - there has been illness. Not bad illness, or anything identifiable as such, but I have had tin foil instead of bones, and pains like putting your tongue on a battery. ooh - there was violent shuddery shaking too, which amused for a little while, but then didn't stop. But I am better now, so that's old.

I made pancakes for breakfast! That's how better I am - I made proper pancake day pancakes for breakfast, and had lemon and sugar. This is very bad actually, but does at least count as me 'cooking' and may counteract the chips Dad brought round for my tea when I was poorly? ( I don't think putting my own ham, pineapple and cheese on top of a microwave pizza counts either...)

There was tv whilst I was ill - there was Derren Brown, who is something of a God, but I was a little disappointed in this one, cos I like a bit more Derren hurt/comfort and there was only a little(!) - but was cool to see the Milgram experiment redone - (though the screams weren't very convincing) - i liked the little man who turned into a "I'll kill your family" style armed robber tho...

ooh, and last night there was MOJO - which was fab. had that wonderfully mannered style that always comes with plays transferred to film, and starred Andy Serkis - who whilst I appreciate all the gollummy goodness, I wish he did more him acting instead of stop motion, cos he is good (and some very nice arm pron last night, and dressed in late 50s gear too.. yum), and Ian Hart and Ewan Bremmner who are both fantastic actors, and it was very intense and fab. ( oh and aiden Gillen from Queer as Folk was in it too, but there wasn't a great deal of difference between this character and Stuart - I don't know which camne first 'cos I cant be bothered to research it, but one role definitely "informed" the other - either that or he can actually only do one character)

And now I have three days of flist to read.......

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