Few know of little Albert and, I can’t recall whereabouts he lived; but I do recall him well. Little Albert lived in the early part of the twentieth century. He was a cute toddler, who ended up involved with a bunch of psychiatrists, as a test subject. The idea had been to seen if fear could be learnt. So this bunch of psychiatrists trained Albert, over a period of time, conditioning him to be scared of white fluffy rabbits; and, as it transpired, anything that was whit, fluffy or vaguely rabbit-like. Now, when I’d heard this story, from my course tutor, I was appalled and somewhat naively, asked, “Did they cure Little Albert?” I’d been told, “If you’d like to think so, yes.”
That’s the day I had chosen to study sociology, rather than psychology.
And, that story brings me to the news on the radio this Tuesday the 29th November.
It seems that there’s two psychiatrists in Norway who have found the fellow who recently killed so many insane, which means he’ll serve no jail-time. This was a fellow who wrote of his motivation. This was a fellow who boasted of his plans on the Internet, much as other fanatics do. Yet, they’re not declared insane, neither should that monster have been.
I like much of what I know of Norway and, it’s warm-hearted people. But fucks sake, this MoFo deserves death-row. Or, if one is to be charitable, which he wasn’t: one could just put him on an island and leave him there. {Ideally before a Tsunami struck.) He deserves something, anything; rather than what these two bloody Norwegian psychiatrists have declared. And, I can think of several something’s… many of which would mean a great deal of pain, for him.
We had a busy night at the church door, (I’d guess through the weather and, the time of year). As one of the volunteers Mark, and I had walked to town, I realised my camera was still in the church, that was by then locked up. Panic had set in for awhile, then plans made I went home. I’d woken on Friday at 9:15, as Dad was going shopping. A short while after I rose to a phone-call from Mark, who’d heard from Roger, who had picked up my camera, as he’d said he might. So, feeling quite relieved I had dressed and, when Roger phoned, to tell me what he’d done, I was able to say, “I know.”
I went for a walk in the afternoon, enjoying the crisp air, sunshine and autumnal colours. And, on the way I gained the widest of smiles: the field across from the end of my road is currently by two horses, a dark pony and, a white Shetland pony. It was the loveliest, cutest thing that someone could see, at that moment and, I’d had to stop a few minutes, to pet the animal, before walking on.
I had got my meds then returned home and, gave my Dad the HDD that had blown on me the previous night. And, I’ll swear down, neither of us quite new what he did; but, by the time he’d finished, it was showing a power light, which indicating that it was finally powering up. The only question after that was, would the HDD work?
But, what with that and a DVD I compiled, with poor sound meant I wanted little more to do with computers for awhile; so I’d cooked, the side-dish for the sweet potato and mackerel in wine, (from a can). I made veg and pulse and onion bake, in a dish served with melted cheese. The sweet had been an apple crumble, I’d made earlier, served with hot custard, not too thin and not too thick. Tasty.
Come the evening I found that another clip collection had poor audio, so I had checked the film discs I’ve also made. So doing, I got watching ‘Die Another Day’ with Pierce Brosnan and Halle Berry. It seems that I do have all four of his films. At least that particular project had worked. I do like Pierce Brosnan as James Bond.
The film that came on straight after ‘Die Another Day’ was ‘Drive Angry’ with Nicholas Cage, which I let run, as I “just had to check the sound”, of course. It was as I had wanted to sound, nice and clear, as his character Milton strutted his stuff, shooting out the bad guy’s, in his particular, inimitable style. And, Amber Heard as Piper looked superb in shorts. As for baddies, Billy Burke as Jonah King; but William Ficthner showed real style, as The Accountant, from Hell. Originally shown in 3d that film has sex, style and, good music. Yep, I like it.
And, I’d given myself the ‘early night’ I intended: not early for some, but for me.
Tuesday was circular and weird; or, weird and circular. Well, it started with dropping off a prescription for Dad on the way back from the walk-in clinic in Eastham, for a possibly septic right big-toe. The trouble was I had recalled the place being open in the morning, which it wasn’t. So I went to pick up my money, taking photo’s on the way; then eventually ended up going home for coffee and eats. And then, it was back to the walk-in centre, completing a circle of Bromborough and Eastham twice over, by the time I’d finished my walk, on a pleasant Autumnal day. And, the evil-toe had got the attention it Needed, though by the end of it, the back told me to rest. Needless to say, I was up and rested, to watch a documentary about John Steinbeck with Dad, at 9:00. Fascinating fellow.
Walking slowly back from home from Clatterbridge Hospital Wednesday afternoon, nearing the spot on the road over the motorway, where people keep committing suicide, a thought had occurred to me, “If I were a dog, they’d have me put down.”
I’d got the casserole prepared and almost cooked, before Dad gave me a lift to hospital and, the pain clinic Mrs Burton the physiotherapist had been there to metaphorically ‘hold my hand’, as I heard from the specialist what I’d expected to hear confirmed: I have spinal degenerative disease. And, to be succinct, I have a two cracks in a vertebrae, which has made my spine malleable. And, although it was suggested I went to Liverpool to have surgery, meaning a fusing of the spine, I’d known from my past job what that may entail. So I’m doing without that.
So, do I have arthritis; had a colonoscopy have a sore toe, that’s probably septic and now, it’s been confirmed that I have degenerative spinal disease, or spinal degenerative disease; either way, it doesn’t sound nice. Yep I’ve decided, if I were a dog, they’d have me put down. Definitely. And, still I smile.
Mania has a useful flipside, it would seem.
The chicken casserole, with dumplings was good though. The walk from the station to Karl’s, with a black side satchel, emblazoned with the bat symbol wasn’t cool though, in part for the paranoia I felt, walking through town with them in the bag. But, the weight of them just couldn’t have been good for me. As it was, it looks like he sussed out the fault with The Dell, it’s having issues recognizing RAM
And once home, getting to see a new episode of ‘Fringe’ was definitely a bonus…
After a late night ‘trying to relax;’ I was up at 6:30 on Monday and, had taken my Picolax by 6:45. (I’d been calling it Pixylix.) It’s a sort of powder in a sachet you make into a drink and tastes like orange and, should have worked by at least 9:00 particularly in lieu (**laughs**) of the fact that I’d taken both sachets. And, I have to wonder if Picolax is supposed to be used by those who’ve had eating disorders and, an excessive use of senna-based products; meaning people like me, who are used to ‘running on empty’ as it were. Anyway, by 11:00-11:15 I was suitably purged and felt it ‘safe’ to get dressed, without dire need of the bathroom. That said, I’d lost nearly half a stone in half an hour; as I’d noted to my interest. And, whilst I got dressed, Dad was looking at maps yet again. To be succinct, I’m glad he did, ‘coz the hospital seemed way out in the middle of nowhere. Grant you, there was a village nearby; it was definitely ‘ye olde worlde’ and there were a lot of farms in the immediate locale.
Yet, I did recall that on my previous visit to the hospital I had passed quite a few houses on the main road, as I’d walked the other way, from Arrowe Park Hospital to Murreyfield. Yet, we got there with over twenty minutes till I was due to be seen. And soon, I’d been sitting on a bed in a small room, wearing a back fastening gown, under my robe, answering questions from Amanda, a Health Care Assistant. It seems that at Murreyfield they do nursing on the cheap, using HCA’s in nursing roles. One could wonder idly, whether it’s how the hospital got a contract to do NHS work, that until recently was done at my local hospital and, is that an indictment of where we’re going? Yet, I digress. I had answered her questions, sitting cross-legged on the bed, as I’d waited to see first the anaesthetist and the surgeon. (I’m still having problems with that word ‘anaesthetist’: I had to use spell-checker!) I did have to remove the Ankh from around my neck and the earring, which wasn’t a surprise. But, the removal of the Ankh had been, as during a previous operation it had been taped down. But, I went with what I was told. And, then I’d waited and, while I had, I’d looked out of the door to the outside and the trees to the left that surrounded the lawn around the hospital. I’d seen a bird of prey, bigger than a kestrel. And, I waited. Finally Amanda was back with a big fellow who reminded me of the actor Jason Statham, with a gurney. “I can walk.” I had said, but was told ‘no’, quite distinctly. So I went with it and boarded the gurney, without my glasses and my eyes closed. In the prep-room Amanda said, ‘You said you don’t have any allergies.’ And, I told her, “No, I don’t, but I do have extreme photosensitivity. It’s on the form.’ And, as they slipped the thing in my wrist, the rest went away. And, it was when I woke that I then got dressed and looked up and around. ‘Oh, you’re awake,’ someone said. “Aye, I am. Can someone phone my Dad, I want to go home…” Well, needless to say, as my Dad’s got cataracts and it was raining, it wasn’t an easy drive for him, he was there for me and as I stood outside, having a some, one eye out for his car outside the hospital, I saw him walk across from the other side of the car park. “I couldn’t find my way round to the front…” he’d said, a tad irritated. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here,” I’d responded and, then thanked him. The drive back home mustn’t have been easy for him, with the roads conditions as they were, at one of the busiest times of the day. But we got home safe alright and, he got to finish making his toasted cheese, while I’d heated up some much-need soup. He had settled down to watch the news, in front of a warm fire, while I finished my toasted cheese, with cucumber, inside a batch. Tasty. Then I rested awhile (**laughs) only to wake up at 23:00, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, which I’d thought ‘most irksome’, to say the least. So, I sat and thought awhile, before watching ‘Killer-Elite’, starring Jason Statham on the ‘new’ laptop, as I typed on the older HP laptop, sitting on a trolley by my bedside. Once it had finished and, I was still awake; I had finally got the nerve up to watch the end of ‘Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence.’ And, that film hadn’t served up imagery that I’d wanted to recall, so I found something pleasant to watch awhile, as I finished writing. And then I’d finally rested my eyes awhile, knowing full well that I had a full day planned for the next day…
I spent much of the weekend seeking distraction from Mondays surgery. Well, I did alright; but there wasn’t really too much to do, until two laptops showed distinct attacks of death. Needless to say, I spent hours on each, all Saturday night and much of Sunday morning. And, that had provided the distraction I had needed. The thing is I no my limitations, so I did what I could, then come Wednesday I’d be visiting Karl, to ask, ‘Help me with its BIOS please…?”
I wouldn’t mind, but the one still lying on its belly is The Dell, the baby, my… er, favourite laptop. And, I did get three smiles, one when it turned out we’d had a pint of milk left for us, after I cancelled the order months ago. I had a second after a warm greeting and, a warmer smile; and the third when Karl had started joking that ‘it might have to wait, until the economy gets better’. At least I think he was joking.
Come Sunday evening, after roast chicken, red wine and apple-crumble and custard, I went through to my room, to peruse the leaflet that had accompanied the Picolax I’d be using Monday morning, to ‘clean me out’. And, I’ll swear down, it doesn’t do to read those leaflets, not whatsoever. Anyways, as I watched an episode of ‘The Walking Dead’, Dad tried to work out again, how bezst to get to Murreyfields, this private hospital, out in the middle of nowhere and, his pen died again and again. That had amused me, but as for ‘The Walking Dead’; boy, is it Grimm. And, talking zombies, I do like the comedy ‘Death Valley’… now, that is funny, a real flipside to the traditional zombie genre… and, I finished the night watching ‘Lost Girl’, with a smile. Yep, I do like that show. Bo’s like a pretty ‘Angel’.
Friday night and the back's bein a pain...
**Laughs**
And... I have the colonoscopy on Monday and Need diversion.
{{had the 'short' camera.
this is like a thing outta war of the worlds!}}
well...
a friend invited me for a smoke at his, nice pollum.
I took 'Drive Angry' to watch.
I got a lift to sign on, as we had stuff to do on the way and, whilst there I found cause for complaint when the fellow had not obliged me, by allowing me to see onscreen whether the claim had been processed. I got home after a brief runaround, then rested while Dad saw to the pizza, half of which I’d have on my return from the project. When I did get to the church, there was ‘a full house’, as Roger termed it, of volunteers, which made a very pleasant change. Considering how my back is, I now ask for help, if I need it; so a full compliment of people was well cool. And, we’ve got some cool volunteers at present.
We’d easily fed forty and, it had been a busy night. But, come the end of the night, it seemed Roger was laying a guilt trip on me. As he Roger had counted my three pound travel expenses out, he had said, “It’s getting harder to find this.” I’d replied, “Same here, hence asking.” Sometimes I think he forgets my value to the project, particularly when there’s quite a few volunteers there. As we left, Kat one of the volunteers dragged me out with another, Mark to a pub called ‘The Crack;, where we’d meet a friend of hers. Well, I got chatting to the barman, who I know from when we were both in ‘The Tree Of Death’, which I’d thought was stuck in postproduction hell, was shown this week at the Wirral Film Festival. That’d been a surprise and, as we sat, it’d been the girl who sat opposite me who fascinated, amongst all the pretty young students there; she had green hair and was a studded leather that looked good. Needless to say, I’d talked with her, telling her at one point, she was only the second I’d seen with green hair and it looked good. I got home after phoning to say I’d be late, early enough to see to Dad’s late-night milky cocoa. And yes, he’s ‘back to normal’; once we had been to the Azda on Friday and he’d bathed, I went to the shops. On my return from getting a prescription filled, there he was, up the ladder and, checking on the garage roof!
“Where are all your friends, when you need them?” I had read on Tuesday, beneath a friend’s picture on Yahoo Messenger.
Well, as I was off to the doctors, I had written, ‘will you be online in four hours?’
She said ‘yes.’ Unfortunately, on my return, she was a messenger no-show, so I’d left an apology and, an explanation in which I mentioned the back and my use of painkillers, which had been why I’d been late. Yet, although I was surprised that she hadn’t even left a message in return, saying, ‘Aw eh, that’s rotten’, it does rather go with what I’ve noticed of late: If I mention to someone that I have spinal degeneration of the spine, they suddenly disappear on me, or they actually take a moment to ask ‘how are you?’
The latter is rare though.
COMMENTS
I live with someone who has arthritis in his spine. It's a bugger.
Sorry I am not always around or even often around. I share the computer you know and I also enjoy the occasional tussle with depression. I just don't like to bother people with it.
Catch-22 though, isn't it? You could have the converse problem - someone who gravitates to others with 'problems' so that they can make the 'drama of it all' about them.
Northern Rock has been sold by our governments representative George Osborne, to Richard Branson’s Virgin Money for seven million, while the taxpayer has put over one billion into the company: so the company has been sold at a loss, just as they have done so many times, on previous occasions. One must ask ‘why?’
I feel that considering how much money the taxpayer put into Northern Rock, it’s the taxpayer who should have been consulted about it’s sale and, not a millionaire on the front benches who sold this company at a loss, on behalf of the taxpayer.
Currently 'Misc' here, define's with stories, what makes me... ME...
...am trying to irritate the pompous and explain why I can't go to an honours night.
…just woken, after three hours asleep, after lying down to rest my knees.
as you know. 'better' is a relative term.
I could take things VERY easy. but.... I choose to do as I do: hence the need for rest, at times, very much due to the fact I do not take the meds in the evening.
All Saturday my body was in sloth mode; a sloth with a severe case of lassitude that is. That is, until the evening. I had relaxed awhile, then rose, to proof-read and toy with text relating to the cloud, for Karl. In the background I had ‘Battlespace’ playing. And, with a plot straight out of a manga-based game, this scifi movie was a wonderful little movie with a big heart, that beautifully explained exactly where the Big Bang came from. It had been intriguing to read the titles at the end, in part to note how many jobs where done by a small team of just three people, with some sort of collaboration with Paul Darrow, aka Avon from ‘Blakes Seven’. Heck, I had even heard the name Roj Blake used during the voiceover through the film. At times it had looked like an American movie, yet felt like a British film. And, it had come as no surprise to me, to learn that the film was Australian. All-in-all, I’d say I enjoyed it.
amma knackered Neil, with a smile and people got fed... and a bottle of whiskey and some green and a boss knife from ‘Blade’, kinda circular, with curved blades that come out and lock; and a bottle opener with true blood piccies and yes, people got fed. But, I am proper cream-crackered though I had heard from my mate Purple. and saw Lucie the day before and Miwa messaged me from Japan. And, the girl in the ice-cream shop in Parkgate, where they do one of the finest ice-creams, recalled me from last time I went in, years ago. And, I went back in laters, after taking a fotie of a life-sized Captain Jack, made out of metalwork, as I had to ask her name. an she giggled with her hand over her mouth, then told me, Zoe. My friend Barry had said, "You're not easily forgotten Neil."
I do lonely a lot, so the odd day like today is Uber special, to me.
**tired eyes**
ah… but, to be remembered like that! It was the second time. The first was Sophie Aldred, the actress, the assistant to the eighth Doctor Who. She had recalled me as ‘the fellow from last year, who wears john lennon gigs... glasses’.
Come Wednesday evening I went for the train, having paid for my ticket earlier, annoyed to find that I had twenty-five minutes to wait. And yes, I got talking to someone and, I wrote a poem, But, it had been annoying. On the train I got a poem out of it, as I continues my journey to Karls and, the young Chinese girl squeezing through road railings, to escape from the scary man. I’d got my whiskey, then walked through town, singing softly to myself, “Happy Birthday to Neil…” several times. An, through Karl, I finally got to see the end of ‘Moon’ starring Sam Rockwell, which I’d lost ages ago, after seeing all bar the last quarter of an hour. I had test-bedded and proofed his research into the cloud. And, I got a card that amused. Needless to say, as soon as I got in and had a coffee, I watched ‘Moon.’ The film was that rare breed, an intelligent piece of sci-fi. And, thanks to Karl, I now have the last few episodes to watch, of ‘Heroes’ series four, which I’ve also wanted to see, for ages and ages and ages and….
I’d managed to find a job to try for through Keith at Ingeus, the work programme; but with my head thinking of little but the operation and, the consultation at the pain clinic in regards to my spine’s displacement, all I can think of is the annoyance of it all. Thankfully, much of it is to happen after my birthday. So, I might be able to enjoy that. Ideally, I’ll be ‘going for a drink’ with Barry who had phoned me, to arrange it. Then maybe, I’ll go for a proper pint, or whiskey, with Kat the volunteer from the project I like talking to. At least that’s the idea. As it is, I think too much and seek distraction, which The Fades and, my writing have provided. Yet that said, strangeness happens: to irritate and amuse. For instance, I looked at the card Keith had given me, with my next appointment on it, as I went to write it down on the calendar, which as it happens is when I’ll be having my colonoscopy. Needless to say, I postponed my appointment with Keith, by phone, telling him, “At that time I’ll just be coming out of the anaesthetic.” [[Or dead, or have a perforated colon, or…?]] And, all that said, I made myself busy Tuesday, making Rock cakes, an apple crumble and a good tea for me ‘n Dad, of fish-fingers, pasta and broccoli in a rich cheese sauce and an omelette, as I played with the PC and made my first DVD with menu, using the programme Converter X, which I obtained through the fellow who makes me some eclectic discs. Then in the evening Lucie called, as she said she would, [[always a pleasure, when someone does as they say they will]] and we’d watched a film, after I’d made her omelette with some of the pasta I’d served earlier. We’d watched, ‘Columbiana’; which I think is brilliant and, I’d held her awhile, after she’d talked of ‘stuff’, that she Needed to talk out. When she’d left, I’d watched number four of ‘The Fades’, which I’d sought, to complete the collection, then finally, watched the last episode, which just blew me away. And, outside the Moon was nearly full, behind a cloud laden sky, with a meteor near to the Earth, that I couldn’t see. And, thinking of that, ‘Day Of The Triffids’ sprang to mind. And maybe, just maybe, it’s good we can’t see it; ‘coz then we won’t go blind and, the man-eating plants won’t get us.
Went to bed early Sunday night, as I had Physiotherapy Monday morning I had watched episode three of ‘The Fades’: not recommended, especially if you’re trying to relax. I’d been truly surprised as to how good the show was. Considering it’s a BBC3 show, intended for the yoof market on a ‘trendy’ channel, the quality was superb, acting good and, it was genuinely creepy: it’s recommended viewing.
It took me nearly two days to recover from Mondays walk to Murreyfields. Well, come Friday morning, I was slow lethargic and in real pain, though ensure Dad didn’t know ‘bout the last bit. Between the lethargy and the aches and… I feel my age, or the age I’ll be soon. Anyways… come teatime, I heard the news and, after hearing that Britain can’t afford not to ‘help’ Greece, because our banks are already owed 270 billion, I declard, I’d rather watched a zombie movie. At least that sort of horror is fiction [[as far as I know.]] And, talking zombies, episode three of the new series of ‘The Walking Dead’ was awesome’. There was one scene where a fellow asks “So, do you believe in God?” And the young lady says, “I take it on faith.” Then adds, “It’s kinda on low supply”… and I’m paraphrasing. And, for me, it’s on real short surprise, especially after seeing the aftercare offered to a young man who’d had a lung removed and is one of our customers at the soup kitchen. And, back to fiction, the last ten minutes had a scene that exemplified the evil man can do, in the name of the greater good… which brings me back to debt: taking it that Britain now owes more than when the Conservatives got in power, being in Europe is doing us no frellin favours… and., I figure it’s time to shoot the dying man. And, Now…
After my traveling day on Monday, Tuesday was an “Oh Gawd I’m buggered day!” Not literally, but figuratively. But, I’d besides rising when I hadn’t wanted to; I had even got the guts up to watch the end of the film ‘Stakeland’, which I’d found so hard to watch first time round. It was still as difficult to watch the second time around, but I’d found it such a good film, I just had to watch it through to the end. But, I’d such a lack of energy all day, yet pushing through that, I’d still got my chores done and, baked an apple crumble and rock buns.
Come the evening I’d rested my knees awhile, which is shorthand for ‘I needed to sleep awhile’, before rising to write awhile. And talking of writing, I am pleased with the new piece and the way it’s progressing.
I was up real early Monday morning, so as to get my end of the chores done before I left for my blood test and, I’ll grant you, it’d had almost been worth it, for the clean air, the colour of the Autumn hues and, there being no children around. They had gone back to school. And, the needle going in hadn’t hurt much, as I talked through the procedure. Once home I played awhile, looking for a film I wanted, while looking for details on my intended journey in the afternoon, which had been an interesting one at that. I had started with the train, going to the bus stops; then realising I’d so much time on my hands, I had decided to walk the rest of the way to the Murreyfields, the private hospital I was going to, under the NHS. Quite unsurprisingly, the fellow I saw had been the very fellow who I had originally seen at Clattebridge Hospital. It had been more than a tad frustrating that my local hospital no longer provides what I need, a colonoscopy; and, it’s now the Main Hospital for the area, or ‘private.’ Ridiculous. Anyway, come the evening, I put disc two of True Blood series 2 to disc, then settled down to watch the film I’d been waiting so long to see, ‘Stakeland’, which I’d also put to disc, just to watch: and, it was worth the wait. ‘Zombieland’ was a film of its type, but funny. Again, this was of it’s type, it’s genre and, although both beak and bloody. If I’d to compare it with something else, I’d compare it to both ‘30 Days Of Night’ and, ‘The Road’.
As you may gather, I’d enjoyed it.
COMMENTS
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TrueBloodForLife
09:51 Dec 26 2011
I fully understand because the savage who murdered my sister got away with it to. For some reason it seem like the bad do wim alot more these days