Meeting

A longish, and somewhat tiring day, but a good one, and certainly worth the effort. I left my accommodation at 8:15 this morning, to catch the first westbound train. A relatively uneventful journey found me arriving about 15 minutes before my daughter, her train being on time as well, allowing us to meet up more or less exactly at midday. We wandered around the shops, with two aims in mind, both successfully achieved - we replaced my daughter's lost phone, although that wasn't a cheap option for me, and bought her a new pair of 'sensible' shoes for her to wear during her week of work experience, which begins tomorrow. Those purchases made, we headed to Wetherspoons for a very leisurely lunch, which proved to be a congenial couple of hours, including plenty of conversation, with a couple of slightly controversial issues being sorted out, my first alcoholic drinks for almost three months, a couple of pints of beer which went down very nicely, and a delicious cutie a few feet away the whole time we were there, which made for very nice viewing. The trip back was a bit of a chore, seeming to take forever and a day, before I finally made it back to base a quarter of an hour or so short of twelve hours after I'd left. All in all, a pleasant way to spend the last day of my sick leave, before I head back to work tomorrow. Back to 'real life', whatever that might be.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Rest day

Despite the fact that it's a considerably nicer day, weather-wise, than it was yesterday, I've decided to stay in and conserve my resources today. Two reasons, really - firstly, I have been pretty tired after what the past couple of days have taken out of me, but secondly, and more significantly, I'm going to embark on a long day trip tomorrow to meet up with my daughter. I'm not going all the way to Cornwall, but certainly three-quarters of the way, which means that the round trip on the train, alone, will take the best part of six hours, before we add on the shopping and lunching which will take up most of our time together. It'll be worth it, though - I haven't seen her for almost two months, and after our little hiccup last weekend, I'm hopeful that meeting up will complete any repairs to the lines of communication between us that might still be outstanding. I'm certainly looking forward to seeing her.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

An outing

A real, out all day, trip up to London, albeit after my GP's appointment this morning, my first since the second week of April. I needed to go for one specific reason, something that could only be done in person at a Tube station booking office, and had to be done before the end of June, namely updating my Oyster card so that I can keep the reduced Tube fare concession that I get through my job - it took all of about a minute, once I'd presented myself, my Oyster card and the relevant documentation - but, beyond that, I wanted to go, partly to help to build up my post-hospital 'stamina', for want of a better word, but also to see a bit more of the world than I've been able to of late. It might sound a bit stupid, especially given that it was only 9 or 10 weeks since I was last in town, and that I didn't do anything more ambitious today than a bit of bus riding and watching the world go by, but it was almost exciting, and even a bit emotional, to be up there again. My current limitations reasserted themselves, though, as the day progressed - I'd arrived at Waterloo just after 11:00, and by 4:00 this afternoon, I'd pretty much had enough, and was ready to head back to base. I was rewarded, though, in the latter stages, with something I'd hoped for - a goodly dose of eye candy, mostly in the form of a French (speaking, at least - I guess they could have been Belgian, or even Québécois) school party, which was awash with cuties, all smack in the middle of my 'age of attraction', one in particular who was stunning, not to put too fine a point on it. All 'ghosts', of course - just floating through my senses for a few moments, never to be seen again, but, after almost three months in 'boy wilderness', very pleasant to see. A pretty good day, even if I ended up feeling thoroughly washed out for the second day in a row.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Mixed

One of those days with good and less congenial elements, mostly around my health, and matters arising. I had to traipse up to the general hospital yet again this morning, in connection with my warfarin treatment, to find the clinic was busy and running late. When they did get around to seeing me, though, it was to impart the news that they seem to have settled on a dose of the rat poison, at least for now, so that I don't have to give myself any more injections, and it was also arranged that my next blood test can be taken in the small 'community' hospital in 'domicile-ville', which will be much less disruptive and time-consuming. The backlog of patients in the clinic, though, meant that I emerged just having missed what is only an hourly bus service back towards base, which led to me making a decision that was probably ill-advised - I decided to walk from the hospital to the nearest station, and make my way back by train instead. The distance of the walk was about twice as far as from my accommodation to my local station, something which, a couple of months or so ago, wouldn't have been any sort of problem, and, indeed, I completed the (admittedly flat) distance in reasonably good time, but at the expense of feeling absolutely washed out. By the time I'd caught the train back, and done some shopping at the 'domicile-ville' end before catching the bus back to base, I was really feeling pretty ropey, and I've spent the subsequent four hours or so slumped on my bed, although I am starting to feel a bit better now. An indication, I guess, of how much this illness has taken out of me, and of how far away anything resembling a full recovery still is. I've got to venture out again, to see my GP, in the morning, but that should be routine, mostly around making sure the repeat prescription for my medication is up to date, so that I can get the pills I'm deemed to need. Assuming I'm not feeling too under the weather, I might very well go up to town after the appointment - I've got a couple of things I need to do, and a little bit of eye candy wouldn't come amiss. I can't see a change of scenery doing too much harm, either. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

The cult of stupidity

OK, maybe the garbage spouted by a DJ isn't exactly the most likely source for sociological insights, but something I've heard on the radio this morning seems to me to be indicative of a prevalent strand in the modern world. The DJ made a comment about playing Scrabble, and then 'apologised' for admitting to doing something so 'uncool', as though to do anything that suggests exercising the brain in the slightest qualifies as social suicide. Taken along with what seems like most people's addiction to 'reality' TV, soap operas and the minutiae of so-called 'celebrities' lives, it suggests to me that mindless - pun intended - anti-intellectualism is rife these days. How do these people, watching their oversized, flat-screen televisions, think that such technologies came about? It wasn't by way of an infinite number of morons coming up with the idea at random, it was by clever people doing clever things. If the world isn't to sink into senescence and stagnation, innovation is essential, but if the dominant cultural meme is one that seems to celebrate dumbing down, where is that next generation of innovators going to come from? Hopefully, there will be enough young people willing to eschew following the herd, to be prepared to set themselves up as targets amongst their peers by being 'different'. Without that willingness, the future would seem to me to be rather bleak.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Clearing the air....a little

I had a longish chat with my daughter this evening, after a day when neither of us ended up in London, contrary to our original plans - she went to Exeter with her boyfriend, while I stayed in, having woken up feeling none too wonderful this morning. We seem to have reached a place where we agreed that we both want to stay on good terms, as has largely been the case hitherto - I told her I was aware, and in agreement with, her growing independence, the fact that she has her friends, including the new beau, and her own lifestyle, while she knows that after all that's happened in the last year or so, she is very much central to my life, and to my motivation to carry on at all. I made it clear that I wanted her to be honest with me, that if I was becoming too demanding she should tell me to back off, rather than allowing things to fester beneath the surface to the point where an argument might be sparked, something that I want to avoid. We have habitually been on the same wavelength for much of her childhood and adolescence, so, hopefully, if we can keep the lines of communication open, our relationship should be able to evolve as she gets ever closer to adulthood. Of course, the fact that I'm fundamentally a 13 year old boy in my head, as I've said before, probably doesn't make the process as easy as it might be, but I'll try and keep my more immature impulses in check as best I can.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

I do wonder sometimes....

....whether, for all our supposed close relationship, my daughter really is all that interested in maintaining links with me after all. There were good practical reasons why she didn't come and visit me while I was in hospital, but it came to light, very reluctantly on her part, when I spoke to her this evening that she's been planning to come to London tomorrow, and when I suggested meeting up, even if only briefly, she didn't show any enthusiasm for seeing me whatsoever. If I'd said I was going to hang around all day, being a 'gooseberry' during her planned meeting with her friend, I could understand her attitude, but she didn't even seem to want to see me for a few minutes at Paddington before she catches her train home. If I really am that much of an embarrassment to her, I wish she'd just tell me, so we could come up with a situation that suited where she wants to be in her life. I know well enough that just because she's the centre of my universe, there's no reason why I should be the centre of hers, and, indeed, I wouldn't want that to be the case, given that I've always tried to encourage her individuality, but I'd rather not have her pretending to care if she doesn't. The conversation ended with her saying she wasn't feeling well, and might not go after all - if she needs to resort to that sort of thing to avoid seeing me, it really might be time for me to let go, and leave her to get on with her life. Not what I would want, but when has what I want ever mattered to anyone close to me?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

A bland post

Because I haven't got the wherewithal, yet, to set myself up as a target once more, I'm not going to blog about a subject, judicial in nature, that has had me fuming, intermittently, over the past couple of days, although that was my original intention. Trial by tabloid, again. That's all I'm going to say at the moment.
I had to traipse out to the hospital, by public transport, again this afternoon, just for a blood test to monitor my early response to my rat poison. A three hour round trip, for a test that induced the medical powers-that-be to change exactly nothing - I'm on the same dose of the medication, and still injecting myself, until Monday, when I'll be heading back over there again, to have the process repeated. There was one piece of encouragement, though, on the way back - for the first time in something like two and a half months, I managed to walk from the station, which also doubles as the local bus terminus, back to my accommodation without having to stop through breathlessness, a walk which only took three or four minutes longer than what I would consider to be the 'usual' time. I realise that it's not exactly on a par with climbing Everest, but it is a definite sign that I might be on the way back to something resembling normality, and not before time. That said, I was feeling pretty lousy again for quite a bit of yesterday, so I hope it's not a false dawn.
Another little moment of brightness came my way on the outward journey, in the shape of a very cute boy, one of a group of four near the station as my outbound bus to the hospital passed. He was about 12, give or take, very good-looking, with lovely, DBJ-ish hair. The nicest piece of eye candy I've been treated to for weeks, given my health-induced incarceration. If the nice weather, and my relatively reasonable condition carries on into the weekend, I might even risk a trip to town, probably on Sunday. There's plenty that can intervene to put the kibosh on that idea over the next couple of days, though, so I'm not getting my hopes up yet. It would be nice to be able to admire a few cuties, though - I'm sure it would help my psychological well-being, even if didn't do much for my physical recovery!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Rat poison

My latest adventure in pharmaceutical-land started this evening, with my first dose of rat poison, otherwise know as warfarin. After my outpatient appointment this morning, it's become clear that this latest medication is going to be a complete pain, both in its initial stages, when it seems that I'm going to have to go to the hospital at least three times a week for blood tests until the anticoagulant clinic staff are satisfied that they've found the right dose for me, and in the longer term, in that warfarin and alcohol don't mix. It's true that I haven't been drinking at all of late, simply because I haven't felt like it, but to be told that I can effectively only have a maximum of one drink a day for at least six months, the minimum course of treatment with warfarin, wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear. I hate sitting in pubs drinking non-alcoholic stuff, but even to go somewhere and just have one drink makes it barely seem worthwhile. So much for the forthcoming beer garden season. I'm sure my liver will benefit from the enforced respite, but I can't see it doing much for my already almost non-existent social life. The balance between quantity and quality of life takes another lurch into the debit column. If taking all these pills is only going to keep me alive long enough to take even more pills, I fail to see the point, really. I already struggle to find the justification to carry on often enough, without losing what few pleasures in life I've been able to retain up to now. Sitting in a small room on your own is bad enough, but to have to do it in a permanent state of sobriety might be a step too far.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Breaking the routine, but not quite. And some family news

My first day out of hospital for almost a fortnight has largely been a relaxing one - I had a couple of phone calls to make this morning, but nothing that involved leaving the building - but the 'ward routine' has still asserted itself in one respect, namely my seemingly huge intake of medication. On top of taking six different types of tablet, I'm also having to give myself two injections each day for the next few days, until they're replaced by yet another tablet. I've still got one more pill to take tonight, in half an hour or so, and there will only be eight hours or so of respite before I start the process again tomorrow morning. I know the medication is in a good cause, namely keeping me from falling back into the pit of ill health I've been struggling with for weeks past, but the prospect of taking so many pills on an indefinite basis isn't all that appetising.
When I spoke to my daughter this evening, there was some substantive news amongst the general chit-chat. The previous couple of times I'd spoken to her, I'd heard mention of a name I hadn't come across before, and the name cropped up again today. The upshot of it is that she appears to have acquired a new boyfriend, someone she met through mutual friends, and who lives locally to her. She seems to be happy with things at the moment, so, naturally I'm pleased for her. It's early days, of course, and it may be a transient thing, or it may not, but as long as she's safe and happy, that's good enough for me. It's ironic, in a way, because on the day I was admitted to hospital for the second time, I had a phone call from my ex as I was getting ready to go out (for what proved to be thirteen days), asking me to speak to my daughter, because my ex was 'concerned' that the girl was, on Facebook, or somewhere, suggesting that she might be bisexual. I pointed out to my ex that I consider my daughter's sexuality, whatever it is, as absolutely none of my business, but if it's one of the issues causing the evident friction between the girl and her mother, I'd address the matter for that reason only. My daughter and I have agreed that we'll have a chat about it, but probably not until I see her next, whenever that might be. I've said before that I, personally, don't believe my daughter is other than straight, from things she's said to me, but, ultimately, she is what she is, and I certainly won't be doing anything other than showing her unconditional love, whichever direction she chooses. Whether my ex would do the same, is, I'm afraid, somewhat doubtful.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Out again

Hopefully for good this time. I got back to my accommodation just over an hour ago, once more courtesy of my brother - he was coming to visit me again today in any case, and when he heard I was going to be discharged, he kindly offered to come anyway, to give me and my goods and chattels a lift back. I prevailed on his good nature still further by asking him to take me to the supermarket en route, so I'm now suitably restocked in grocery terms, too. By the time I got back, I was feeling thoroughly washed out, even with his help, so I think tomorrow is likely to be an 'R & R' day. I'll have to get my rear in gear early on Thursday, though, because I need to be back at the hospital at 9:15 in the morning for an outpatient's appointment in connection with some anticoagulants the doctors want me to take. Yet more pills - I'll be rattling before long. This doesn't read very coherently, probably because I'm exhausted. I'll try and come up with something a bit more fluent tomorrow.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Not just another Monday, after all

Things have happened in the last few hours, both on the health front, and my more general situation. The consultant, when I saw him this morning, was happy with the effects of my chest drain, and I am certainly feeling better than at any time in the past couple of weeks. There are still a few loose ends to be resolved, but, with any luck, I should be discharged tomorrow. There will be some outpatient appointments in due course, but, unless anything unforeseen happens, I'm hopeful that my escape will be a bit more definitive this time.
I might even be back at work next week, albeit probably only on light duties initially, and I've also had some unexpected news on that front - an e-mail from our HR people suggesting that they wanted to interview me early next week for the job I applied for two and a half months ago which, if I got it, would allow me to move back home. I didn't know at that stage about my likely discharge, so I've asked them to rearrange it for a later date, there being no immediate indication of that being an issue - I doubt I'd be at my best if I was interviewed on more or less my first day back after six weeks off, so if I can play the system a bit, to my potential advantage, then that's what I'll do. It's been a pretty difficult couple of months, so the prospect of events swinging my way a bit is welcome, to say the least.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Another Monday morning

But, rather than gritting my teeth in the face of a new working week, like most people, I'm still in hospital for an indefinite period. Enduring the goriness and discomfort of the chest drain seems to have paid dividends, though - after losing something like three and a half litres of fluid in eighteen hours, before it stopped working for reasons the doctors haven't fathomed yet, I'm coughing a lot less, even if it's still uncomfortable for me to take too deep a breath. I should be seeing the consultant this morning, so, with any luck, discharge strategies will be on the agenda. I don't suppose that I'd be doing anything greatly different at my accommodation than I'm doing here - i.e. resting and internettting - but I would, at least, be doing it in my own space, and without the constant to and fro of people I have to contend with here. And without the hospital routine - the medication round has begun, breakfast to follow, and so ad nauseam. Getting out of this hamster maze is looking more attractive by the moment!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Drained

I guess I should add a disclaimer here, along the lines of 'don't read this post if you're just about to eat a meal', because it probably isn't for the squeamish, but after days of hanging around with nothing much, seemingly, happening, I was whisked off at literally thirty seconds notice early this afternoon, to be ultrasound scanned, have a hole drilled in my back and a chest drain fitted. The way it was done did, I suppose, prevent me from sitting around worrying about the prospect, although sitting bent over a medical couch knowing someone is, effectively, going to stab you in the back at any moment, albeit under local anaesthetic, is one of the more unnerving things I've experienced. The anticipation was worse than the actuality, though, and the device is now doing its job - a litre or so of rather vile looking red gunk has emerged already, with more, it seems, to follow. Given that the consensus amongst the doctors for more than a week has been that the fluid needs to go for me to get markedly better, the fact that something is actually being done about it is welcome, even if the practicalities are a bit uncomfortable and gory. Short term pain for long term gain - I hope!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

I'm sure I've had this conversation before

The one with my designated consultant at lunchtime, that is. I first spoke to him last Friday, and was told that they wanted to carry on medicating me with a cocktail of stuff to try and do something with my symptoms, now, a week on, and with me feeling only marginally better, if at all, I'm hearing it all again. The only slight difference is that he's now saying that I might have a chest drain put in on Monday. So, the delightful prospect of another weekend in here awaits me. I can barely restrain my enthusiasm. Such tests as they've done show that the underlying infection is responding to the antibiotics, but only slowly, so I guess that's one item of good news, but it certainly doesn't look as though I'll be back at work any time soon. I updated my boss yesterday, with what little I knew at that point, and he did raise the possibility of his visiting me today (no sort of special treatment, by the way, but company policy towards those on long-term sickness, a category which, after five weeks, I now officially occupy), but given that it's now after 4:00 on a Friday afternoon, I think it's safe to say that I won't see him before Monday at the earliest.
Well, here endeth the medical bulletin - I hope those of you who have some free time, and the wherewithal to use it, have an enjoyable weekend.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Not exactly what I wanted to hear

But, probably, not as bad as it sounds. I had an echocardiogram yesterday, a cross between an ECG and an ultrasound scan which can show the heart's doings in real time and record the results on a computer. I had one at the general hospital near my old home just over four years ago, which showed no physiological problem, leading to the diagnosis that my heart arrhythmia was caused by stress. This latest one was different, though - there is a weakness in the muscles of the ventricles, which means that I'm officially suffering from heart failure. If ever a diagnostic phrase sounded dire, 'heart failure' must be close to the top of the list, but, as with many things, it actually covers a continuum of conditions, of which mine is very much at the lower end of the spectrum of seriousness. It can be controlled, if not repaired, by medication, the pills concerned being much the same ones I took for years to manage the original arrhythmia. The only x-factor is what attitude my employer might take towards the diagnosis, whether they would, given their almost legendary risk aversion, decide that I was no longer fit to do my job. That said, being deemed medically unfit, in current circumstances, might not be such a bad thing - I have known people, during my career, that have done fairly well out of that version of early retirement, although whether the goalposts have been moved of late, I don't know. All I can do is to tell my manager what the situation is, and let the process take its course.
As far as my more immediate health issues go, I know more or less certainly that I'm going to be admitted to the other hospital to have the fluid draining procedure done, but what I don't know yet is whether I'll be going directly there from here, or whether I'll be sent home for a while and then called back as an outpatient or day case. I might find out tomorrow, given a fair wind. All in all, I just want to be well, or well enough to function reasonably normally, at least, but another doctor I saw yesterday told me it could take six more weeks before I reach that point. Cheer me up, why don't you!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

There must be some logic there somewhere

But I'm afraid it escapes me. Nothing substantive has changed today as far as my medical situation goes - I'm feeling no worse, but little better, either, the doctor I saw on Friday wants to carry on with the 'catchall' medication, the only extra element being that, at some point, I may have to go to a different hospital to have an endoscopy-type procedure to track down and drain off the fluid around my lungs, but, in the meantime, I'm going nowhere. Given that lack of change, and the fact that I'm trying to be as patient a patient as I can, the staff haven't paid me much attention today, and quite rightly, because they've had higher priority things to do. Until I made the mistake of dozing off in the chair beside my bed after the evening meal - as ever, sleeping in hospital is a very hit and miss affair - when it apparently suddenly became essential for the nurse to come over and wake me up to ask if I was alright! I resisted, barely, the temptation to say I was fine until I was woken! The joy of hospital life knows no bounds.
Yesterday was rather better, though, as both my brother and sister-in-law, and a good friend were kind enough to make lengthy journeys, giving up big chunks of their respective weekends, to come and visit me. Seeing friendly faces, and sharing conversations, is a big boost, and I'm very grateful to all of them for their time and trouble.
My daughter hasn't been able to visit, sadly, because it simply isn't practicable, but, as usual, I have been speaking to her most days. I've had the impression, more than once recently, that the girl isn't all that happy with life at the moment, and my suspicions as to the reason was confirmed this evening, namely that there's a lot of tension between my daughter and her mother of late. Maybe I'm looking for justifications to go back to Cornwall, but helping my daughter to escape from a difficult situation would be one of the more genuine ones.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Marking time

That's about all I seem to be doing in here at the moment. There aren't any doctors on the ward over the weekend, although there are people on site and on call in case of emergencies, so my treatment is where it was left yesterday lunchtime, with what seems to be a problem that they're having in untangling cause and effect with my symptoms. As a result, I'm being plied with four different types of medication, to see what, if anything, might be beneficial. I know there is an element of art as well as science in medicine, but it all seems a bit haphazard to me. Meanwhile, I'm still coughing like a professional, and not really feeling very much better.
I spoke to my boss yesterday, to give him the latest news, insofar as there was any, to be told in return I'd have to have an occupational health appointment before I'm allowed to resume. It is standard procedure, to be fair - I had to go for an equivalent check-up after having five weeks off in 2010, for reasons that occupied much of the early part of this blog - but it's made me consider once more whether I actually want to go back, or whether it could be the last nudge towards early retirement, and maybe a move back to Cornwall. There are, as ever, pros and cons on both sides, which I'll need to consider carefully before I commit myself.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

It's not all bad....

....just most of it. I could be in here for up to a week again, and, given how I feel at the moment, I wouldn't be surprised if it is that long. I've got fluid in and around the lungs, something that is a known side/after effect of pneumonia, apparently, and which the doctors are trying a couple of approaches to dealing with. I won't find out any more until the morning, but I'll have some questions when I do next see a doctor.
There are and have been some brighter spots during the day, though - my brother kindly came up again this afternoon, collecting the key to my accommodation and going to bring some things I needed up here, most notably my Kindle and charger so I can stay on the air. There was a cutie moment earlier, too, on the ward I was on before I was moved to where I am now in late afternoon, visiting his father who was admitted last night. He was another of the 'too young to do anything but coo over' contingent, but, as I've said more than once recently, any oasis in my current 'boy desert' is more than welcome. The best thing of all, though, is that I can log into the hospital WiFi this time around, which I couldn't do at all on my last stay, so I've got pretty good internet access, although I've already found that they block anything deemed to take up too much bandwidth, so most videos are out. I'm sure I'll manage, not least because I can still use my phone as a WiFi hotspot if need be. One way or another, I should be able to keep up to date with my usual cyberspace haunts this time around.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

I don't firkin believe it!

Go to the doctors, end up back in bloody hospital! Someone certainly seems to have it in for me at the moment. To say I'm fed up is a considerable understatement.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Deserving? And a hiatus

Over the past few weeks, I've begun watching TV more regularly, after having gone several months, since the end of last year's Olympics, when I'd hardly watched any at all. I'm not watching all day, every day, by any means - I'm very much an advocate of the philosophy of 'if there's nothing I consider interesting on, switch it off' - but I've probably been averaging three hours or so a day. And that, needless to say, means that I've seen quite a few adverts, given that I don't exclusively watch BBC channels. For the most part, the adverts pretty much wash over me (apart from the ones where a cutie or two can be glimpsed!), but one that I've seen over the past couple of days has got under my skin, in the sense of annoyance, more than usual. It's an advert for a website specialising in upmarket property, showing views of an opulent beachfront apartment. It's the voiceover, though, that's rubbed me up the wrong way, going on, as it does, about the prospective owner of such a property, and thus customer of the website, 'deserving' such a place for all their efforts and sacrifices in 'building your business', of which working at weekends was quoted as an example. Well, I've worked my arse off for nearly 35 years, including innumerable weekends - I would guess at an average of 40 a year over the whole 35 years - and I've ended up with absolutely sod all, living in a small rented room and owning next to nothing. Why am I less deserving of having somewhere nice to live? Yes, I'll admit to having made many a mistake in my life, but to hear the suggestion that 'business' people get what they deserve for their efforts, while the rest of us have to put up with whatever crumbs fall our way, is galling, to say the least.
I've spent several hours this morning effectively incommunicado, because of a problem with the network of the company that is both my mobile broadband and phone provider. I'm back on the air now, self-evidently, but to be cut off from the rest of the world in the current 'always on' society has been a bit of an odd experience. Fifteen years or so ago, I wouldn't even have given it a second thought, but I guess it's an indication of how integral a part the internet plays in my life now that it should be worthy of comment, even though it didn't cause me any direct inconvenience - I've readily enough found other things to occupy my time instead. The only problem that might have arisen would have been if there had been an emergency of some kind, because I don't even know where the nearest payphone is (at the station, probably), or if someone, most notably my daughter, I suppose, had needed to contact me. It's like many aspects of modern life - you take it for granted until it's not there, but when it isn't, it makes you appreciate its significance.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Signed up

I'm finally on the books of a local doctor, as confirmed by a letter I received this morning, and I'll be going along there on Wednesday morning for a double appointment, a 'new patient' check and an actual doctor's appointment. The second is the more necessary, as far as I'm concerned, because I am, on paper at least, due to go back to work on Thursday, but, in all honesty, I don't think I'm in any way fit to do so. I'll see what the doctor has to say, and take it from there.
The weather has been pretty nice here for the past few days, but I'm still largely stuck indoors, because I just don't feel up to doing much else. I'll probably take another short trip to the supermarket a bit later on, but that, I suspect, is as far as I'll get today. I'd very much like to do something more adventurous, go out and see the world - and some eye candy, if I'm being honest - but it just doesn't seem to be an option at the moment. I'll certainly have some lost time to make up for, as and when I'm sufficiently recovered.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

A new month....

....but not much changing. May has, of course, been a complete write-off - apart from my week in hospital, I've only worked one shift, between leave at the beginning of the month and sickness thereafter, and only left my accommodation, by my reckoning, three times in total. And now, into June, I'm not really feeling that much better, certainly not as much better as I thought I would by this stage, given the amount of rest I've had and the amount of medication I've swallowed.
There are other things that don't change, either - my ex texted me early this morning 'reminding' me to transfer 'her' money. I hadn't forgotten, as it happened, I was waiting for my antivirus scan to finish before I logged on to my online banking, because it had, for once, come up with a couple of warnings. There were many times, particularly towards the end of our marriage, when I got the impression I was worth no more than the contents of my pay packet, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at that being the case now. After all, where's the incentive to get off your backside and get a job when some mug hands over a large wedge of cash on the first of each month? I've no intention of shirking my responsibilities, especially to my daughter, but a little bit of self-help might sweeten the pill somewhat. If I said so, though, it would doubtless be seen as more evidence of my 'unreasonable behaviour', and, in all honesty, it's just not worth the hassle, especially at the moment. All part of the wonderful lifestyle I lead.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B