"Art is not a mirror with which to reflect the world; it is a hammer with which to shape it"

Monday, 30 May 2011

Er, Happy New Year.... and WTF?!?!?

I was going to make the first post of the year glib, ironic, shallow and, you know, whatever. I was going to wish everyone a belated happy new year....and I still do.... happy belated new year.....

But things changed a bit.....

I had thought things were looking up: the ribs I cracked turned out to be broken but had healed; a generally annoying long-term recurring illness had subsided a touch and was starting to consider generally buggering off a bit which was good and then..... well, if I believed in curses, I’d start to think I’d taken a pump-action for a fun-day to a hall of mirrors, having first waltzed through a colonnade of ladders and kicked a cornucopia of black cats. But I don’t. And I haven’t.

On 5th April I watched episode one of Candy Cabs (that’s how I remember the date) this was not a good idea. And I’m sure it could be evidence at the Hague as cruel and unusual punishment. I’m certain what happened next had precisely nothing to do with bad television but given how terribly bad that television was it’s fun to make the link. And isn’t it good to have a reason for the unreasonable no matter how completely ludicrous, erroneous and unreasonable it might be?

So, programme ends. Watch news. Watch Newsnight. Start to realise my whole right-hand side has stopped working: face slumped, speech problems, arm numb and barely mobile... Alarm bells start to ring – I think we’ve all seen the advert. I was in A&E within the hour and admitted that night. Cue tests: lots of tests. The most painful part of which came after I got home – lumber punctures are uncomfortable but the headache I had for the following two weeks was like someone drilling straight into my brain through my eyes. Then pouring in liquid nitrogen. I’ve broken my ribs, my knees and sliced a thumb to the bone.... they had nothing on this. And the Doctor (likely qualified in ‘30’s Germany) said there would be no pain. Would hate to see his definition of pain. But, hey, no pain no gain; do I get a tin cup or something?

In hospital I was introduced to another new experience I could have done without: a visit from the Norovirus Fairy, courtesy of another patient’s visitor (who ‘thought it would be OK to visit while he had the symptoms’ but didn’t see the point of all those hygiene things that hospitals have taken quite a shine to – feel free to roll eyes and tut). B.P. went to 60 over 25 (which apparently is bad), required 6 litres of fluids, lost nearly a stone in 5 days, hallucinated a lot and knocked the drip out twice.... which was actually quite amusing and sort of, er, bloody.

I was released just before Easter and enjoyed two weeks of blinding headaches and lots of codeine. But at least it was sunny so I retreated into the garden with a CD player and dark glasses. I probably looked like Lermontov.



The return home was a problematic, weird experience crowned by the first couple of hours with the TV at which point I realised I couldn’t understand why anybody would ever want to watch TV or films as it’s just a bunch of inconsequential buffoons prancing like pointless puppets making empty burbling noises of no worth. Worse, I couldn’t work out why anybody in their right mind would dedicate any time to writing for such inanity. Thankfully, this seems to be wearing off.

So, where does this leave things: I’m still part paralyzed with no real idea when or if it will wear off. The list of things I can’t do seems much longer than those I can: can’t drive; can barely hold a pen or sign my name; can’t feel the laptop keys properly (so I’m using two fingers on my left-hand); have trouble holding fork, knife, toothbrush, etc. It’s a bit annoying.

Still, could be worse: I might have watched the rest of Candy Cabs.

And I doubt anyone’s reading this; so probably just pissing in the wind; I notice most Bloggers seem to have given up in the last 6-12 months.... guess everyone’s burbling away on Witter.... ‘cos, like, you know, what meathead's shagging what tart, is like, you know, so like, yeah, whatever, innit. LOL. OMG. LMAO.

Always end on a song..... one which has the chorus ‘life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it’ would be quite nice... what a coincidence...






Last Album listened to: Nine Inch Nails: Still
Last TV watched: Doctor Who: The Almost People

3 comments:

rob said...

Hi Jon,

I'd like to say it's a pleasure to read a new post from you but you really seem to be going through the mill.

Hope you fully recover soon, and have only good luck to come.

All the best,

Rob.

PS - I'm glad I didn't watch Candy Cabs.

Rach said...

You have had an awful year so far then. If bad luck comes in threes then hopefully it gets better.

And the doc that said Lumbar punches don't hurt? I'm just speechless.

Lastly there are still some out here who are twitter free. You are not alone. (spooky music to follow). Get well soon.

Jon Peacey said...

Thank you kindly.

But, heh, what's the point of mills if not for going through!

Not only do lumbar punctures not hurt (?!?!?) but according to one of the nurses it's common practice to send you/ allow you to drive home immediately after!

As for Twitter, I just don't get it. Something about it doesn't make much sense to me.

And remember, Candy Cabs, dangerous stuff... just say no.