A journal of questionable quality

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

The day after.

so, where does all that pain come from?
Shit. Major pain in shoulder this morning leads me to believe that I may have become a bit exuberant at the pool yesterday. My neck feels like someone has tried to hang me; hang on, maybe they did. These are hard and fast times after all.

More 'subtle' pursuits today. We will try one day on, one day off to slowly build up the muscles that have been so unused over the last twelve weeks. What an insanely long time to not use something - and I wonder why it hurts when I actually get it going again.

web aversion strikes
As per the holiday resolution not to spend half my life on the web, sitting here, wasting time, wasting sunshine, wasting away, I find early in the day a complete disenchantment with all things 'web'. Sick of the same old sites, sick of Web 2, bored with the self styled experts telling me what I should be doing. Resolution eventually boots in subliminally. I can live with that. Out of the chair and into the lounge chair, back to an old James Ellroy novel I was re-reading. Good stuff.

but, a few updates to favorite apps anyway
The afternoon was spent catching up on the favorite apps - the portable stuff - portable AbiWord - brilliant thing, runs off a USB stick, or CD, and Gaim, equally brilliant, runs the same way. The advantage of Gaim is that it allows me to have all my IM's: IRC, ICQ, Yahoo, Jabber, etc, in the one application.

These are the things that make the net worthwhile for me again; stuff I can carry around on a USB stick and plug into whenever I feel the need.

it's time
One thing to come of the holiday is the realization that I have too many projects going all at once. Time, I think, to slim the total done; get into the ones that matter. Action it - anytime now.

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Monday, October 30, 2006

Let the recovery begin.

catching up
One day back from the holiday; catching up on everything, including 300 spam messages naturally, and some real mail.

Checking out the changes at Twitter, looking better everyday; Yellow Arrow required a couple of entries that I glommed over the holidays. Documenting an epiphany that came to me about what to do with the site; the site that has been waiting for an update and reboot for more than two years now; checking out the latest crop of Postcrossing postcards that I have received; a wonderful project, people all over the world sharing postcards, including me.

All in all getting the electronic world, the bit that I can be bothered with, back in order. Previously mentioned resolutions, post holiday resolutions still hold.

back in the water
Upset, disoriented, I hate it when I have to change my routine. The local pool, my haven from everything, has been taken over by school children when I would be beginning my morning session; smelly, sweaty, festering children, still to learn the basics of personal hygiene. The one good point: the pool is now chlorine based, devoid of the salt mix, therefore a lot quicker at killing the microbes they leave behind.

Being adaptable, as per the holiday agreement, I attend in the mid afternoon, finding it free of clutter and noise.

The first serious attempt to get some movement in the shoulder, interrupted by the 'holiday', and now re assigned.

20 laps, 1 klm. With a kickboard. 5 laps freestyle - shoulder moving through a complete range of movement. Five as many as felt safe. Gratifying. Maybe stupid, but extremely gratifying. This weeks physio is to arrange a time for Lucy in the pool; get some exercises to keep the muscles building. I will have to confess to the freestyle. Sore pecs already. What lies ahead tomorrow is anyone guess. I'll risk it.

The reboot of the shoulder is finally beginning.

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Two weeks later...

is this reality?
Holiday done, dusted, over. Two weeks holiday. Gone. Kids back. Hers and the day care lot. Noise. Breaking things. Normal again.

What happened?

How fast two weeks goes, but we know all that, say all that every year. Same as christmas arriving - 'is it that time of the year already?' - of course it is you nitwit, it's the same time every year.

It was good while it lasted. We stayed local. Some shopping, plenty of book reading and catching up on videos that we had missed during the year. Some good, some bad. Did a few current releases - The Departed - good stuff, really good stuff, Children of Men, another good one.

Two weeks without a computer. A pleasure. Some resolutions made about that; now to see if they stick. I hope they do.

Investigated the train network of Brisbane; we don't take trains anywhere because we need to burn as much fuel as possible so we can fear rag heads cutting off our oil supply; we simply don't have a local service and probably never will, so by the time you get the car out and drive to the nearest station you're almost at the destination.

Took the train all the way to the Gold Coast, a brilliant service, hopelessly over subscribed, so we are told, by regular commuters during the week, but reasonably spacious for us; the body odor that comes with cheap travel is another matter, but you get used to it. Arrived at the Coast, got off, got back on and retraced our steps.

Kept up the physio, anything to free up the shoulder. Made some progress and took a few backward steps when I decided I could do far more than what I had been tasked with. Bad move; set me back a week. Major excitement with the new range of exercises to come this week: a pool trip for some water based moves and beginning to use balls.

Now we're getting to it; the real stuff. The stuff that will get me back in the real world.

It was still a real quick two weeks.

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Saturday, October 14, 2006

Getting closer..

OK, add another day to the count
Thursday it was one day to go. That was until I was informed by their mother that in fact the lugubrious pair - one too silly to stop talking, and the other too cool to talk at all, will in fact not be leaving the house for two weeks with their father until Sunday. Still, Sunday is not that far away.

Maybe I'll get lucky if I go to work tomorrow and make it last all day. By the time I get back they should have been levered in to the car and transported. All we will face then is a week of phone calls about what was left behind, and requests to tape television that their father has deemed unsuitable.

Pessimistic? No - realism. I've been here and done that for a few years now.

perfect weather for buggying
The weather has turned perfect for buggying, as it does every year at this time.
Wilson getting almost serious
I am sitting here beside a carton that contains my power kites; packed away until the big day when I get the green light to get back in the buggy.

It has been a major contention in the fallout from 'the accident'. One of the only ones that manage to irk me. Six months off power kites, with or without a harness.

The surgeon is a kite surfer so understood the principle as soon as I mentioned it; power kites are out for six months. That was three months ago. It sounded not too bad at the time. Anything sounded good at the time; sitting there with a shoulder that had managed to separate in to it's composite parts. Shit, I would have been happy with six years.

The timing was mentioned at the last meeting; all is well, start stretching it, stay away from kites.

Today it seems to have hit home. The sheer amount of time is starting to weigh; days like today - fine, clear, constant northerly wind - all the things you need for a serious buggy session.

I should be doing a half full / half empty thing, happy that I am halfway through the 'penalty time', rather than bitching about three months more to go.

After all, the projected time is in the middle of January, leaving me at least 3-4 months of clear weather to play in.

Doesn't seem to stop me bitching though.


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Thursday, October 12, 2006

Penultimate day

It's getting close
Thursday is gone. Friday is the last day these day care children will be here for two weeks while Yvonne takes a holiday; not only from the day care children, but also from her own sons who will go to their father for the duration. Lucky dad.

Two weeks; of peace, lack of whining, bitching, never satisfied children; children who seem to think they have a claim on the entire world, some of the most ill mannered and rude individuals I have ever seen. Let's blame it all on the boogie man, the dreaded and way overused term ADD. Slap a pill in them and all your troubles go away.

Two weeks; I am told we have nothing planned. I may have, but apparently 'we' don't. Two weeks of relaxing, reading, catching up on a few old movies, a bit of shopping, a general look about the place. A few videos for Yellow Arrow and Flagr, a few more arrows on places of interest, and a few more entries on my Flagr maps. Place a few more Post Secret cards about the place - maybe one day Australians will 'get' the idea, but I am not holding my breath.

Two weeks; I had better not begin to obsess about swimming - having just got the go ahead from my very favorite physio ladies to actually get in a pool, got excited at the idea, but tempered it to accommodate the 'holidays'.

Two weeks. Imagine that. I should maybe limit, or even cease the Blogger entries; Yvonne has a deep aversion to anything remotely computer orientated and not be too wrapt in the idea that I might do something as radical as update a blog. Each to their own.

Physio success
Amazing ladies. Truly amazing ladies with immense power to grind, stretch, pull, press the bits of me that are still not functioning. The list is getting smaller every visit; I go there get pulled into line, and come home in immense pain - which wears off overnight giving me more flexibility and range of movement every time.

Shoulder surgeon visit on Tuesday points to very little to do other than recover for the next three months; that will make a total of six months that I have had the kite buggy parked up. A long time for anyone.

All I have to do now is convince myself that all this inactivity will pay off in the end.

Really.

It will.

Won't it?

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Tuesday, October 10, 2006

The week of medical mystery

Tuesday - shoulder surgeon
Feel sorry for me you bastards. Feel deeply sorry for me. Today - that will be Tuesday - 15:30 appointment, in the center of the city, semi rush hour, parents picking up children from exclusive schools, barging, smashing their way through the place in those SUV's that you silly bloody Americans made popular. No wonder 13 year old kids take AK 47's to middle schools.

Running 45 minutes late, but we don't mind, the receptionists are hand picked for eye candy so I am content. Oh, so very content.

Prognosis - I am rather too exuberant for the ever cautious surgeon, but he will leave me in the hands of the physio ladies who will try and stem my desire to be back in normal society again.

I'm wrapped - it's three months that I have the shoulder scoped and screwed and wired; it's been a long time, a long time for someone who has trouble sitting still for too long and needs constant exposure to far too much sunlight.

Wednesday - gallbladder surgeon
Time for the dressings to come off the stomach; they have already but I have been replacing them at the same rate.

Got to look good for the man who may have changed my lifestyle, my enjoyment of life, my ability to eat almost anything. This is a man who I may be indebted to for some considerable time.

Dressings will be removed, work admired and I'll be back in the land of normal again. Looking forward to it.

Thursday - physio shoulder
Lucy and Mary - finer physios would be impossible to find. They take the intractable bits of my shoulder and work on them until they get a full range of movement again. How cool is that.

All we have to do now is get my arse in a pool with Lucy and prove that I will be able to adopt a freestyle stroke without difficulty.

From that moment on the pool is my friend. I have yet another three months to build up some serious shoulder power to convince the final arbiter - Dr Cutbush, that I have sufficient power back to be able to handle the power kites and a Glock 17; time to get back into shooting again. Seems to me a 9mm slide gun will be easy enough to handle. It always was before.

2 weeks holidays
Starting next week, Yvonne is on two weeks holidays. We're going low key this time. Hanging about the place, investigating local instead of heading out of town: apart from the mandatory excursion to see Fanning, the mariner.

Scout out a few places to place more Yellow Arrow, Flagr stickers, get some photography don, get laid back, hire all the latest DVD's. Standard, relaxing stuff.

Looking good. Looking real good.

Twitter me here if you need me.

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Monday, October 09, 2006

Post hospital - post everything

Laziness is a podcast
Lacking any enthusiasm for the typed word, it turned in to a podcast.. of sorts.




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Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Gallstones will do that.

So, that's what was wrong
Previous posts detail the mundane stomach machinations that have been going on around here.

Pain in the middle of the night; one trip to emergency 'pay as you go' ward. Blood tests assure everyone that there is no dreaded lurgy running around loose in my stomach, or in fact, any other part of me.

Another trip back to same ward; another 4.00am blast into the inner suburbs hospital that provides emergency care at a price. Don't forget your credit cards because you won't get anywhere without them. Finally Doctor deigns it necessary to get an ultrasound done. For what I don't know or care.

Strange mutterings around ultrasound images; nothing that any one is going to show or explain to me; we're elite remember, we of the equipment driving status. We may not be able to drive a car but we can drive an ultrasound machine and cluck at what we see, but we won't tell you about it because, you see, we're in the club.

Admitted to same hospital. No food. No food for three days. Explanation given that I am going to have my gallbladder removed and I seem to need to stay in a state of perpetual nil by mouth. When I ignore this and steal food from the trolley I am violently sick; natures way of letting you know who is boss - either because I thieved it or because I ate it - the effect is still the same.

Monday evening; from Friday evening/Saturday morning, and I am on the way downstairs to get the situation rectified having signed away all my rights, rights I didn't even know, or care, that I had.

Meet all the staff involved. Swapped onto a working table. Smile at innocuous looking lady who has mask in her hand. The last person I see.

Wake, suddenly, violently, to the less than pleasant sight of a woman/girl who seems to think that any awake patient is a pain in the arse. Seeing her face is a pain in the arse. Quickly block her out and get wheeled out of there.

Sleep. Uncomfortable. Morphine flowing through veins, just as it has been for the last 3 days. Pain control for some. Pleasure and pain control for me; and many others who will refuse to admit it, fucking hypocrites.

A day later and I'm out of there; back here, at home, feeling low for no reason other than adrenaline wearing off, morphine well worn off, and bruises starting to show through.

A final solution to the drama of waking in the middle of the night with the most intense pain in the world.


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