Tonto

There's 2 types of godbotherer story, one where the punchline is 'that was when I carried you' and the other ends with 'i sent a boat and then a helicopter, what more did you want?'Today I spoke to a lady whose partner is dying in the most awful way - I cannot even write what she told me about how he is suffering, truly indescribable. Her faith frightened me because it felt almost inhuman and devoid of normal outrage in the face of this apalling cancer, and I admired and felt humbled by her strength - she turned to go and for a moment she held my arm really tightly like someone drowning and I caught a glimpse of real agony and dawning horror in her face. I hoped that whoever was carrying her would be able to manage till the boat arrived. He might be out of pain by the time you read this, lets hope so.

Does anyone know if heinz tomato sauce is pasteurised or not?New diet this time called 'neutropenic' normally i'd snigger of course....

on weds last my daughter calls dhss patient transfer from the liverpool royal hospital to ask to be transferred to the last flight since she must wait to see a doctor. she is told why are you calling so late to request this and if you don't have a letter for the audit trail then no we can't transfer you. end of conversation. my daughter having just been told her cancer had returned and she would be facing more chemo and a bone marrow transplant not surprisingly fell apart. if herboyfriend hadn't called a friend of a friend and got it sorted who knows what would be the story? I was not there and had I been then there would have been a great story in the media the following morning at 7am. instead I had to listen to the dhss minister smugly telling his interviewer that people were patting him on the back and saying they were with him. well I would suspect that 98% of them hadn't been using the dhss lately. since when does someone in patient transfer talk about audit trail paperwork to a patient calling from a hospital? if they hv problems with their audit then that's not the patient's problem it is the management's problem. imagine that this was your child your grandchild, your wife, your son and tell me you would be happy with that response?I so want to take thee people on their worst sick day with a hangover shove them on the red eye make them wait for hours with no food or drink, belt a few doses of chemo throygh them, wait another hour or two then tell them to ring patient transfer and see if they can remember their name never mind where their audit trail is.as you can tell, I am incandescent.

writing this on my pda from a ward in the royal liverpool hospital - guess what came back? there'll be more f5om here shortly sorry to say. hope springs eternal and all that.... more chemo but with more poke this time. fingers crossed everyone we're fighting again.

Found this on a forces website today: Although he could not say with words the love he felt inside, He treasured every moment and his heart would fill with pride, He never said I love you but he came to every game, Even in defeat his son knew he loved him just the same, He'd pat him on the head Or maybe ruffle up his hair, And tell him he was proud of him as long as he played fair, When he graduated college I love you wasn't said, He smiled as he shook his hand mumbling, well done my boy instead, When his son went to war he trembled as he spoke, And brushing away the tears he made a little joke, Now, his son's come home and he stands with eyes downcast, His hands stroking the coffin, saying I love you son at last.

999 and counting - I've just got broadband in and its fab. All pre-configured with female friendly instructions - its a doddle! Let me see, whats next? Oh yes - medieval walled cities of Europe - by train...woohoooooo! And so on and so forth! I went to Reading this year (998) - I was one of only 10 people over 30 there and probably 1 of only 4 over 45! What you doing here Grandma? Bless, you don't think they let people your age organise these things?....smirk...! And no I dont know where the toilets or the first aid tent is and for the love of God, PULL YOUR DAMN PANTS UP...! India or Spain? hmmm thats a tough one....

I've finally got my act together and paid via the miracle of paypal - phew. Is there a news black out? Someone ended up in a coma after a serious accident and this is not worthy of a single report? "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." Voltaire

Like Shady, guess who's back. I need to pay my subscription but I've been away so long I cant remember how - somebody help me before I forget entirely. Every time I press subscriptions it takes me back to my own subscription page which has no options - and yes I'm as thick as you like - just help me PAY, Dammmit!! My entire memory got wiped on my PDA today so I'm taking no prisoners. Cant remember anything since I got it. And precious little before that. So if anyone can point me in the right direction to pay I would be grateful. Alot has happened to me since I last wrote, dear reader. I am now 'recently single' and looking to open a couple of cans of whoop-ass, as my son would say! Some things stand the test of fire and become stronger and my marriage was not one of them, sad to say. However, we live and learn, dont we children?! So I have a whole new world to discover at my vast age - the drunk, desperate and divorced bar at the Hilton, Anne Summers and toilet seats that stay down all the time...! I'm surprising myself at what I can do - so watch out!

I was at the pulrose power station traffic lights waiting to go right onto the main drag about 1115am today and 2 cars in front of me was a campervan. As people drove round the corner they waved and smiled and were still smiling as they continued on. I though 'blimey that bloke must know alot of folk, must be all of his friends in convoy coming down the road!' Anyway when we got round the corner and still more people smiling and waving, he turned off right and I was able to see Father Christmas in full gear and fluffy beard in the driving seat! It made me smile all day, and everyone who saw him was smiling too. It was great. Well done that man.

George Michael (when he was straight!) singing 'last Christmas' has to herald the start of the festive season for me. I have good news, went to Liverpool Royal yesterday - the specialists have said we dont need to visit them for a year! They say that were it not for the fact that we are part of a trial for a new treatment they would not be seeing us at all, but the trial has protocols for data collection and they have to be followed. I'm trying hard to feel like partying, and I know it sounds a bit paranoid, but I cant do it 100% - a little over 65% is about all I'll allow. I'm sure most people would see why. The fickle finger of fate and all that good stuff. Booked tickets for the Peel TT concert of one of the remaining BGs today - standing of course, cant justify VIP £91 though, sorry! Yay for my past - spell massachewsits masatusits master2tits dammit! Dog is fine thank you for asking, and no there are no flowers coming out of her nether regions. yet.

Well, the fates must have been having themselves a good chortle at my last post. The other day I came home early - feeling ill and the dog managed to eat half the compost in my newly planted pots along with several varieties of spring flowering bulbs. The cost of the vet was £116 - thanks very much. In case you're interested daff bulbs are extremely poisonous - need to be flushed out of the system within 2 hours otherwise its seriously close to goodbye doggie. It WAS seriously close to goodbye doggie, I can tell you, but not for the reasons the vet thought

Decided to use the blog to comment on a news story this week about the two old horses that were put down as part of the will of their owner who had died. It's contraversial, I know, but here's another viewpoint, and I dont write this to invite comment or animal rights email - it's just a blog. Back in the way-back-when, when I used to ride work for a hunting stables - the elderly gent whose horses were my particular job shocked my fluffy thellwell heart to the core when he told me that his 2 hunters were to be put down when he died. I could hardly speak to him I was so upset, I felt this was a terrible reward for horses who had given him a lifetime's service - he had had both from very young. He could see I was upset and explained it to me thusly: he could not bear to think of his two veterans being passed from hand to hand down the chain, as expenses for keeping them gradually rose and people who had taken them on failed to realise the costs, until finally they ended their lives suffering miserably in the back of the knackers van shoved in with 5 or 6 others terrified out of their wits to be put down as part of a long queue in an abattoir. In his way, he said, they would end their days with dignity at home and minimum suffering with an injection and then cremation - rather than going for dog food. Some 3 years later, the gent discovered he had an inoperable brain tumour and, true to his word, both horses were put down before he himself died, with him holding their heads. They were not young by any stretch when this happened, and well passed their hunting days of course. I admit to still being mutely horrified that he did this, but I think I understand his reasons. He really truly felt that noone could look after his horses the way he did - and he was right, they had every comfort known to horse and jockey - and so he did the best he could for them when he knew he was going to die, and was present to have his wishes carried out. I know how much our own veteran doberman costs to keep, and its steep and getting steeper all the time. It's something we do because of love, because we wont fail her now just because she's old, smelly, forgetful and tatty. But the other side of this coin is that sometimes you have to take heartbreaking decisions as well, we know that it's not going to be long before we too have to take that awful decision, and is it fair to the dog for us to carry on saying 'her quality of life is still good' when clearly it isn't - because the alternative is simply too awful to contemplate.

You shouldn't have married him then! If only it had been! At least then I could have fixed the problem(s)!!

It's my birthday this month - next year I should reach the big 5 0 - all things being equal B) My son is back with us from where ever the bodysnatchers took him and things are progressing fairly quietly, for which I give thanks to whatever star system decided to give me a dig out. Take me to your leader that I may give him/her/it/them a big sloppy kish - mwah mwah darlink. I have to dust off the funeral coat yet again tommorrow. And probably the funeral umbrella and wet weather gear as well, I just saw Noah nipping off pretty smartish. This time I will be mostly standing in front of anyone who decides to use this opportunity to take the family rift to another plane of cringe-making viciousness once the obligatory ham sarnies and several double whiskies take effect. What is it about death and funerals that brings out the vulture with no shame in some people? I've seen it happen so many times and I still cannot fail to be stunned by this behaviour every time I see it. I wish I had a pound for every time I'd seen it - I'd be sat on the beach in the Maldives shouting for the champagne wallah I can tell you. Instead of freezing my pert behind off (oops slight exageration there!) trying not to sniff without my hanky and wondering where the pound coin has gone that I had ready for the offeratory(? cant spell) - I could be somewhere warm and calm and welcoming. I can't let this entry go by without telling anyone who'll listen that I've just come back from somewhere warm and this year's no-no absolutely no-no is the MALE THONG - dont do it - your bits stick out the sides when you sit down - yes they do and its horrrrrrrrible. The gent in question was well past his sell by date and far from 'loooookin gude' actually was positively vomit inducing - it was so awful, I cant begin to describe it/them. dangling. eeew. AND another thing - lycra is OUT OUT OUT - you can ONLY wear it to the beach if you iz a porn star on location or you are under 6 years old - otherwise GET A PAIR OF SHORTS!!

Number 1 son is giving me the mother of all jip. I think if you could discover a hormone restrainer for young men the world would be a nicer place. Take 2 tablets sonny boy and then go and make your long suffering mother a cup of tea and say sorry. They know how to push your buttons and you try to keep the peace, you try to help and you try and try and try and STILL it makes not a jot of difference. No matter what I say I cannot get to the root of the problem and I'm beginning to think there isn't one, its just life - deal with it. All of us at some point in our early lives have to commit to the programme of adulthood - those that dont become the flotsam on the fringes of society. Some people make that committment early, others never do. I made it about aged about 24, if memory serves me well. Cant believe I'll have to wait that long for my boy - probably longer being male. Sorry about the sexism, but I cant be pc at present. Close to despair today. Is this the payback - get one child back and now play to get the other one returned? Has life turned into a macabre version of a game show? A kind of Hells Kitchen out of X-factor by Rising Testosterone Levels - to give it some racing speak? Life is such a bitch some times. I only ask for a bit of peace for a short while, some recognition of the unspeakable weariness of soul that I'm experiencing at the moment. Give me a chance to re-charge my batteries and then wallop away. I'm supposed to be going on holiday this weekend, but whatever else is crap in his life - it isn't timing Today parenthood sucks big time.