Needles & Pins

Memory tells me that the Searchers were pretty crap, although I quite enjoyed their version of Love Potion No 9. However their well known one was the above, memorable only for the pronunciation of "pins-ah".

At least when I was held in hospital I was moved around in reasonable comfort, unlike this shot taken in an hospital in China, where apparently any trip had to serve a double purpose and comfort of the patient was not necessarily considered to be the the be-all and end-all by the porters. Anyway now, in spite of so recently having had the opportunity to have vast quantities of various things introduced into my system without a new needle being thrust into me, I, and the rest of the family in Singapore, need a whole load of updates of vaccinations and inoculations. All of us are needle shy and I am facing immense pressure from Alice to allow her to go unspiked, based upon her being an Asian in Asia. I feel that this is a pretty ineffective argument and will do all I can to ensure that she gets the same protection that I and Alistair will enjoy; besides why should we suffer alone?

Still at least we have children so we can reap the benefits in future.

More Treats

Loveable as Sid was, there have been equally strong personalities in the music business, and my mind turns to Alex Harvey. Who but he would entitle both an album and a song "Next"; singing of the woes of standing in a queue at a mobile brothel.

I had a number of his albums, the old fashioned ones that go on a turntable, from his Sensational Alex Harvey Band era but am now a little lost for CDs or mp3s, which brings me to the fact that my charming daughter sent me a card to cheer me up recently and enclosed with it a Texas CD.

Years ago while on holiday in UK I would drive her around in my Panther Kallista and force her to listen to the Cowboy Junkies, the B52s - particularly "What's that on your Head?", and the first Texas album. I take it that Sharleen was the only singer of whom she approved since it has been Texas to whom she has turned whenever deciding to give me a gift. In fact I had this album, but not the special edition that she sent me with two videos there-on. So I am thinking that I may ask her to turn from Texas to SAHB in future when looking for a gift for me. Its very naughty to look a gift horse in the mouth but since she has all my old discs, who better to search for CDs to bring me up to date?

Disaster for Jack

Some days, as we all know, are better than others. As a man of partial Scottish descent I was for many years a lover of whisky, tending towards single malts. Some people may feel that Glen Grant is insufficiently complex, but the longer aged ones are absolutely fine. Of course this should be drunk undiluted by horrors such as ice, or colas. Some people accept a little water but personally I believe that this should be in a separate glass, if required at all.

But over the years I came to enjoy whiskey instead, with a preference for Jack, indeed partially because this can be drunk straight or messed around by adding ice, cola, water, or by reversing the mixer by adding Jack to beer to make a pleasant long malted drink.

Of course initially, not being American (luckily), I was under the misapprehension that I was drinking a bourbon. Not so, quoting the JD website "Jack Daniel's is not a Bourbon - it's a TENNESSEE WHISKEY. Jack Daniel's is dripped slowly - drop-by-drop - through ten feet of firmly packed charcoal (made from hard sugar maple) before going into new charred oak barrels for aging. This special process gives Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey its rare smoothness. It's this extra step - charcoal mellowing - which makes Jack Daniel's a Tennessee Whiskey." So what does one call it as a generic term, basically there doesn't seem to be one, but of course "Jack" or "JD" are recognised names most places.

Anyway my charming daughter gave me, a few years ago, a set of JD cufflinks (or sleeve links, as E.F.Benson refers to Georgie's). These gave me great pleasure until recently when one broke. After a certain amount of search Alice found somewhere to have it resoldered but just yesterday it went again, unnoticed at first so that another repair is impossible since the logo is missing. Oh the anguish of lack of links.

Hotties & Notties

Alice is a hottie in all senses of the word, since in spite of her grumbles that age is encroaching she remains extremely attractive. As for me I very definitely prefer heat to cold, which appears to make me an anomoly amongst my relatives and friends.

Just recently I received photographs of my daughter, and my sister . . . . . . . . and brother in law cavorting in Sweden.

Further to this I have also received some photos from my friends in Eastern Europe, again showing that strange appreciation of the cold that so baffles me.

What I wonder is if these people were mistakenly brought up as human while in reality their lives should have been somewhat different?

Work is not the Worst

I can't remember, and am far too lazy to check, if I mentioned that I was offered a one month MC, thereby ensuring a month of avoiding work. I turned it down, fool that I am, and am now working (or as close as I ever get to it) mornings with a hope of returning fully within a week or two. I must admit I went home after the first morning, yesterday, and immediately fell asleep for two hours. So I suspect the surgeon was right in thinking that a fat old bloke like me needed plenty of recovery time. What do I mean, fat? No way, I am six kilos lighter than before the operation.

But my poor son Harry has recently has a far worse experience. While on a fairly empty jeepney from Cebu City to our farm he found himself with a gun thrust into his side and his handphone demanded. Luckily he was sensible enough to pass it over whereupon the assailant leapt from the jeepney and vanished. A most unpleasant experience that is rather more likely to occur in the Phils than in Singapore! While one has sympathy with those who are destitute the fact that he had a gun confirms that he had some money at least and so I have no vision of him as a romantic highwayman, as here portrayed by Adam Ant, but just as someone who I would like to see jailed as soon as possible.

Work looms

I had a disappointing discussion with the surgeon yesterday. Apparently the operation was considerably more major than intended, due to the discovery of the additional hernias, and hence my recovery will take longer than I believed. However after much discussion he agreed that I can go back to the rat race on Monday, but originally for mornings only. This seems reasonable since I do get very tired but I am sure that being back at site and using my special skills will soon have me capable of full days once again. I guess it is just a matter of building up stamina again.

The good bit is that so far I have not suffered the horrible "standing still" pain although, since there is general low level pain almost constantly, it may just have got lost amongst the other aches. However if the removal of the belly button and the bit of gut adhering to it has really got rid of that pain then it has all been worth it. Quite apart, of course, of the dangers should any part of the intestine have become fully strangulated.

So here I am gearing up to return to the fast track as construction flies towards completion and hoping that they have not missed me too much at site!

Po'tree (A day ignoring my body!)

Beloved Ga-Ga, who was my maternal Scottish grandmother - now dead some five and a half decades, was always amused by the enthusiasm with which American tourists, or those from the local submarine base, bought up antique po's. While these can be prettily decorated the fact that they had been under bed receptacles led most locals to believe that conversion into a plant pot, or even worse a drinks container, was not a viable option. However they sold well to the extent that non-antiques had to be made to keep up with demand. You will of course note the advantages of drinking beer, but preferably for later transfer to a po rather than for consumption from one!

But my beef is not with gazunders today but the fact that I keep coming across poetry in blogs; and regrettably this is usually of a pretty poor standard. It seems that breaking up with some-one leads to a plethora of rubbishy poetry. Which is a pity, because I am sure some of the bloggers could actually produce something worthwhile if not so keen to express their woes in what tends to be a rather repetitious winge. Others, of course, tend to the William McGonagall school of writing and little can ever be expected from them.

So to my own poetry (doggerel?) which tends to be short, sweet and more interested in the realities of life than personal woes:

.

Skin

Do you know why we have skin?

It is just to keep stuff in,

Without it, it would be a muddle.

Our blood would ooze out in a puddle.

.

Jenny

Jenny Ball is not a whore,

That's a rumour to ignore;

If you ask her then you'll see,

She nearly always obliges free.

.

This latter poem was written about a good friend from whom I have lost contact over the years, and was not in any way intended to be rude. Especially since it was written in the Free Love period of the Sixties. Jenny, should you run across this would you please contact me?

Belly Buttonless

And things move on apace, here you can see the new prettier scar. Although not all the length of the original scar required to be opened, still the surgeon followed the old scar for the length that he required, tidying it and getting rid of the various indentations and horrids. I am therefore a much handsomer man, wouldn't you agree?

But somehow I feel scared to enter crowds that may place any pressure on my poor suffering belly and may therefore refrain from London, or indeed any other, pubs for a while.

So many pals, so much improvement

Over the first few days outside the High Dependency and back in my room I was amazed by the number of kind friends that dropped by to see me. This snap above was taken by our youngest son when we were joined by a number of colleagues from the QS and Accounts department. Those that did not make it had nevertheless signed a delightful card which will be held in my "memories" savings. Not only that I but received flowers, fruit and what I believe are referred to as "lad mags" which purport to be about gadgets and suchlike. I was really pleased, and also that as I drooped during the visits they were quick to notice and leave before I became too tired. I am really lucky how people have treated me.

Turning from my mental state, made so much better by such kind friends, to the physical; I am now out of bed and ambulant, but my lungs are running a bit behind schedules so that I may not be out until Monday. Never mind things are going so well. I am eating and passing bloodless things out the other end, which seems damned impressive to me in view of the cutting of the intestines. The only minor flaw is that I am on soft diet and told non spicy is the way to go. Since I have a penchant for certain things in the food line this is a shade irritating; as is being on the normal hospital menu rather than the VIP one I enjoyed the first evening. And if any one feels I am seemingly less than thankful for my good fortune I remind them of the blog name. Having said that I can certainly admit to being a pretty grateful soul just at the moment, for I cannot even count my blessing due to the infinitive number I have been granted.

Done Already, Lah!

Well, I went into Mount E hospital in style on Friday afternoon being given a single deluxe, rather than a simple single. Just due to bed shortages since only in special circumstances does my insurer upgrade one from the basic level. There was still a frisson of pleasure since on the one night I would be in hospital and capable of eating I would be having the special super menu. And it was great, beautifully cooked and served.

Next morning I was down in theatre for three hours, luckily not be required to provide any input other than being the meat for their actions.

It seems to have been the right time for action, there were in fact five hernias, the two asymmetrical highlevel and the three areas where infection had set in immediately following the emergency surgery. Good news, I no longer have a navel, this having been removed entirely together with the portions of the gut that had become adhesions thereto. This may (only may, but that's a still a very good word) be the cause of the regular "standing still pain" that has given me so much trouble, so my life may be about to improve dramatically.

At this point I had oxygen squirting up my nose plus a suction drain, put these together and you get the rather less than handsome face that appears above. Which, it seems, does not put off my darling wife! Who has been with me as long as possible throughout and been a great source of strength to me. As has Alistair of course who was the photographer for this demonstration of love.

Dammit the time has come

I was very disparaging to one of the rare commentators on the blog earlier, when he told me to check on my cholesterol levels and now I need to make amends. I was sure that the past checks showed I am protected by Alice's cooking but it seems that was wrong, dammit! As usual in my daft beliefs! So I have a heavy weight calcium level in the blood; no doubt you can see that this means some concern, but more than the kidney stones? Apparently so, if we consider that pain is an indicator, a shade beyond dropping dead.

But don't you hate it when you are shown to be opposite to the "truth"; and don't you wish there was a real settled truth. (While contemplating this you could consider reading "The Truth" or listening to it - I normally use audible.com).

But however I may have been misguided previously the time has come. I have emailed my employers and got the insurance guarantee sorted, so tomorrow its it hospital and Saturday it's cutting time.

And in spite of wrong name for me above, I look forward to being a whole human being again.

Revamping the Weekend

I normally rather look forward to the weekend, especially my alternate two day weekends, with their many choices, particularly here in Singapore with its multifarious opportunities. As a (part) Scot (and born there) of course I am well used to heading for the hills to try and bag a wild haggis, but here in Asia one has to head instead for the beaches with the amazing flotsam and jetsam that appears at intervals. However it did come as some surprise that having prepared such a large breakfast item it should have been discarded, presumably from some large and expensive yacht, and allowed to float to our sands to the benefit of our hungry.

However on this occasion I was planning a more sedate break, if Alice would let me. Her thoughts more often turn to the physical and exotic, but if you believe these are indeed my feet far above the horizon I can tell you that you are very much mistaken. No, for physical enjoyment I am far more likely to turn to an amusement park. Here in Singapore, of course, we have some of the most advanced in the world and can guarantee safe thrills and spills to your heart's content.

However, as we know, in fact I will be being cut, sewn and generally renovated in order, I sincerely hope, to get rid of pain and improve life.