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Angelus's Journal


Angelus's Journal

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Honor: 13    [ Give / Take ]

PROFILE




2 entries this month
 

...she had been nigh-on perfect in the role.

00:09 Aug 25 2015
Times Read: 551


I’d still been waiting on a decision from the dwp, on whether they think I can claim, ‘the sick’. And, I’d still waiting to hear from the consultant, to explain more, after the exploratory, that produced the diagnosis of diverticulitis.



And, after a preop in September, I’ll be having an operation to straighten the inside of my nose {the outside seems to look fine, to me} and then, have the sinus drained.



And, I don’t look as my scans seem to show me; yet coupled with the arthritis, I feel as the scans show, some days. All of which means, the diversions of the day to day are more than enough for me right now. And, some diversions are more than a little amusing, at times.



Dad and I had finished the shopping and were sitting in the living-room, enjoying a hot cup of tea, watching the rain fall, when he said laconically, “I suppose I won’t be watering the lawns today…”

“You didn’t want to?” I’d asked, surprised that he might contemplate the idea, as it had begun to rain harder.

“Well… I had been watering it every day…” he had retorted, almost wistfully.

And, I swear down, his sense of humour is so darned dry, it’s arid.



Being ill, in several forms has been irksome; particularly as I’m like many, the invibly ‘less able-bodied’… gotta love that phrase; but not the jogger’s, those sneaky ninja’s, who sneak up behind you, without warning – or, run toward you, expecting you to get out of their way. Frell, they’re as bad as them deadheads forever looking down at their mobile phones, as they walk over a narrow footpath, expecting you to be their eyes and get out of their way. Well, here’s one individual who has a degenerative, inoperable spine and, can’t get out of their way.



Tempus Fugit… and, time did. And, although I still had not hear from the consultant about the diagnosis of diverticulitis and how best to deal with it, I did hear from the DWP, who informed me thorough a letter, read on a rainy day, I am fit for work.



Well, having read that and, what they’d written of the medical interview, my anxiety chip had gone into overdrive.



Eventually I’d sought help from those who had given me aid before and, although it’s obvious to me, that it’s going to get worse, before it gets any better/.



I say that, knowing full well I’ve yet more hospital time due at Broadgreen…



And thankfully, at the end of a rotten day, I got to do something I liked, after I’d made our casserole I went travelling to Karl’s, grateful for good conversation and company.



Later, as I had sat down to edit my new story, I had ‘Casino Royale’, the Daniel Craig film on in the background. I quickly found myself leaving the editing aside awhile, as had found appreciating the film, all over again.



“Am I going to have problems with you Mister Bond?”



“No, you’re not my type,” Bond replied.



“What’s that Mister Bond, intelligent?” Vesper Lynd asked of him



“No, single,” he responded, idly looking out the car’s right hand rear window.



Then again, I had liked the second version of the film, with the most urbane of Englishmen, David Niven.



And, talking films, I got to see a good copy of ‘Terminator: Genisys’ and, as someone who liked all the ‘Terminator films, this is really good. Grant you, it’s more of the same, but moreso and, with a twist I’d appreciated. Furthermore, Emilia Clarke was well-cast in the role Linda Hamilton had made hers, Sarah Connor. I had thought she had been nigh-on perfect in the role.



COMMENTS

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Sachet
Sachet
00:17 Aug 25 2015

"I'll Be Back!"





 

Mona, or Lisa?

22:20 Aug 11 2015
Times Read: 560


I guess recent events started in Liverpool, when I learned of the ‘new’ complaint. Then after a weekend that I’d wanted to be relaxing, I had developed an abscess on my gum, that opened and wept blood. Needless to say, at one ten in the morning it is not the sort of thing you want to see.



Well, as soon as I’d been up on the Monday I’d phoned the dentist to ask for an emergency appointment, which I’d got and, the antibiotics I’d needed.



And, I’d got to thinking that Wednesday would be fun – meaning the face op and, I’d dreamed that they'd peel my face up and off {not downward like Hannibal might} to access my sinus.



When I told her of my ever so-real dream, the receptionist at my doctor’s had called it “gross” and pulled a face. It’s alright for her, she just heard the story, while I had seen what I had in the dream.



My mind always gets active after body rested. And, it took me a long while to get my act together the other day, but... I am 'doing' alright.



Yet, the journey has been useful: I’ve learned stuff.



Tis strange: belief’s… I have some.



And, one is that we do not deserve… as many say…



Oh you hear them, “It’s my right to ‘so and so’, I deserve it…”



Steve Coogan in the most irreverent sit com I've seen in years.



‘Happyish!’ It’s a comedy that Camu would approve of.



{Canadians are such sick, sick, mo-fo's **Laughs**}





And I went to the mere, on a sunny, lightly windy day, meeting my friend with bike down there. As we had chatted he had extolled the virtues of his new bifocal polarized transition lenses, quoting their price several times.



And then, seemingly less than ten minutes later, the very same glasses were in the Mere, with the chrome work of the arms visible. Needless to say, after a stick was employed, the glasses had no longer been visible, as I’d stared up the silt.



A friend had been phoned and, having duly arrived with a short step-ladder, that we decided could be placed on the ledge, just a few inches beneath the water; and then someone could go down and into the water, to retrieve the glasses.



It had seemed like a good plan, except that each of us had a reason, for not doing the task, albeit each was valid, meaning a chest complaint, bad guts, or in my case, bad guts and bad spine. But, I do so dislike dithering…



So, I’d removed my boots and socks, rolled up my black jeans legs, as I’d explained that I’d been doing it. So easing myself down, by supporting my body with both arms, I’d made my way to the ledge, beneath the freezing cold water, then the murk at the bottom, with dead leaves and suchlike, squidging up between my toes.



Rolling my jacket sleeves up, I’d reached into the water, groping to where I’d seen the glasses to be. And then, they were not, where I’d seen them, or where they had been.



Or had my vision been distracted, by refraction as I’d thrust my arm inward… it was possible. Either way, there had been nothing, to find…



So I’d left the water, gone up the ladder, dried off my feet, donned my boots and, been thankful for a lift home.



Tuesday had brought a day of distraction, watching several episodes of ‘Olympus’, back to back, while writing away and, thinking of the next day…





And in the early morning, I’d given myself cramps and worse, having problems where I’d not; before going out, to travel to the hospital hours later, after getting ready.



I’d caught the train from Bromborough Station, then the 1:10-1:15 or so, from Lime Street mainline, to Broadgreen Station, arriving almost two hours too early.



So, I’d gone to a newsagents and got myself a can of cream soda and asked “Where’s the nearest green?” Then I’d gone for a good walk, realizing of course, that as far as I walked, I’d have to walk back.



Well I did start back, and got back to Broadgreen, making my way to the clinic, where I waited and wrote, as my body began its afternoon shutdown.



Thankfully I’d got called before I’d fallen fast asleep, which seemingly had been on the cards at that point.



The fellow had been most amenable and, had explained the procedure, as a long, black, narrowing, twisting camera, was shown to me, before being inserted up my nose…



And the, the fellow had been kind enough to show me and explain to me, the scan of my face, after learning that it could be accessed from Arrowe Park Hospital.



It had been interesting to see the actual damage to my sinus and, how my nose was literally ‘out of shape’.



The sinus on the left looked pretty bad, but was interesting to see and understand; yet the nose he said was one of the worst cases of a deviation he’d seen and, he was a specialist. What I can’t get over is that if you look at me straight on I look fine, nut inside, the left is a mess.

Unfortunately, the batteries on my camera had not been working, when the fellow had given me permission to take a photograph of the scan, which I’d found more than a little irritating…



He seemed to figure it would be easy to straighten and, they would drain my sinus and I had I left with a further appointment, for a preop, with my operation to follow.



One mercy was that I’d a change of zip-up jacket in my shoulder bag, do was prepared for the distinct change in the weather, to windy and shower, albeit warm…



I spent the evening trying to unwind, eat a little, before trying to rest.



That said, I’d the pleasure of reopened my email from the fellow who manages the MonaLisa Twins, who sent me a photo of me with them and boy, the look on my face is priceless: it’s a kinda mix ‘tween embarrassment and pleasure, last seen when I had been lucky enough to meet Sophie Aldred…


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