9th July 2002
9th July 2002.
Going out for lunch with Kaz today. Quite looking forward to a good gossip and a nice cup of decadent hot chocolate with lashings of whipped cream. Well after a pizza and pasta buffet why worry about the beverage?
Ade came for tea last night, well that is Ade has learned that if he calls directly from work he is guaranteed a feed if he sits long enough He’s one of those men in danger of dying of starvation since his divorce. In fairness he does work hard on the submarines and I don’t blame him for being too lazy to cook when he gets home. He does odd jobs for me, so it’s fair exchange.
I just wish he hadn’t ‘given up’ smoking though. Since he quit four weeks ago he’s smoking 30 cigars a day. They bloody stink. I hate it.
Last night I got a text off our Lou demanding that I go round for a brew as she was dying from boredom. Get used to it girl, that’s life on your own. She recently left her husband after thirteen years of marriage. She’s met a new bloke called Colin. I like him he’s nice and looks as though he’s going to treat her well.
I’ve never seen her looking so happy. The only blight on her horizon is that Les is giving her a terrible time. She can’t stand Colin. Lou is 33 and Col is 51. I strongly suspect that the problem is that Les fancies him herself and is jealous. I’ve seen this tons of times with Les. When I met Tim she was absolutely horrible to me. And now she’s doing the same thing with Lou.
Okay yes he’s old enough to be her dad, and he might not be the best looking bloke in the world and yes he’s got a bit of a gut, but hell can’t she see that he makes her daughter happy? And where’s the harm in that?
She pointed out that in twenty years he’ll be seventy. My god, it’s a new relationship it probably won’t last until he’s seventy and if it does then well done them for getting twenty happy years out of it. I’ve told Les she’s bang out of order. Colin doesn’t beat Lou, he doesn’t womanise, and he seems to treat her well and with respect and tenderness. I’ve told Lou to go with it and if her mother can’t accept it and be civil to Colin then sod her, it’s her loss. Our Les is jealous and can’t stand to see anybody happy. She’s probably right, it might not last five minutes, but for those five minutes Lou is happy, her kids are happy and life is good for her.
Oh well time for a bath got an hour to make this tired old knacker drop dead gorgeous.
10th July 2002.
What a bloody morning. Went to M S (client) and there was no answer. Tried half a dozen times to get the office on the phone and it was the damned machine. I rang for the first time at 8:45 and never got a human being until 11:30. M could have been lying hurt for all that time. This is the third times it’s happened with M she’s extrtreemly sick with lung cancer and emphasema and is constantly being taken into hospital through the night. I’ve told M (my Boss) that unless we get a key for that call, I’m not going to be responsible any longer.
The next three calls passed without incident and then I went to RA. I’ve been saying for weeks that he had some nasty sores that I didn’t like the look of and that he’s doing a lot of scratching. The GP said that it was allergic reaction to meds and prescribed anti-hist. Last week the wounds were weeping and I asked MA (his daughter) to get him re-checked and to ask specifically for an MRSA testing. Anyway now they have decided that both R and M have scabies … lovely!
I had to give him his usual full body wash and then slather him head to foot in Derbac. Problem now though, is whether I have been infested. I suspect not, I’ve been doing him for six weeks and have no unusual scratchings, of course with suffering from Rhesus Disease I tend to itch anyway if my blood overheats, so it’s difficult to tell, especially with being on such high doses of anti-hist myself.
Anyway as a precaution, I’ve taken the rest of the day, and my first three calls tomorrow morning, off and am now sitting stinking. I am covered in aue-de- Derbac. If Mark has an accident today and gets brought home from school by the headmaster I’ll never forgive him. I just hope that Mark is clear. However I don’t have the same hopes for Tim.
It would almost be worth the humiliation of scabie infestation to know that Tim was also ratching all his tender places.
I’m still not happy with the diagnosis though, the sores on RA’s legs are not healing and it is still indicative of MRSA. I’ve taken a blood sample and asked again that he be tested.
Guess where he picked up this problem? Yep Hospital. MRSA is going to hit epidemic proportions over the next ten years if something isn’t done to increase hygiene standards in our hospitals. Most people have never even heard of the condition and yet there are several cases outbreaking every single week from hospitals nation wide. It’s a bugger when you go into hospital sick and come out sicker.
I have to keep this bloody stuff on for 24 hours .. yeuk.
Cried myself to sleep again last night, but at least this time there’s a valid reason for it. I was watching a program about ageing and death and it made me think of Marian. She’s been gone eight months now, and I miss her so much. She was only fifty three and had no bloody right to die. For the last eighteen years she’s always been there for me. Mark couldn’t have had a better Grandmother and we miss her to hell.
One of the last things she said to me before she died was. “It will be all right you know.” Well I want her to know that it isn’t bloody all right. It’s far from all right She is the nearest thing I’ve ever had to a Mother and I need her strength and her wisdom. She loved me unconditionally and I could do no wrong in her eyes even though I told her every single time I messed up. Parenting was so much easier when I had her at the end of the phone line to sound off at. I never once heard her raise her voice to Mark and yet one look from her and she could make him do.
“You won’t tell Nanna will you Mum?”
Damn her, I’m still very angry with her.
I should have known the cancer had returned, all the signs were there, but I just put it down to her MS. The MS made a perfect mask for the cancer to hide behind. And all because she was too bloody stubborn to go for her regular check-ups, stupid woman. I should have kept a closer eye on her and made sure she attended her appointments but she kept telling me she’d been … stupid damned woman. I should have lived closer.
I’ve just made a huge mistake, realised I’ve got no baccy, it’s 12:30 and I haven’t had a cig today. I can’t leave the house to get any .. bugger!
Hmmm I wonder? If I put a fiver in my purse and tied it to the dog’s collar with a note asking for a pouch of baccy to be got from the GB and delivered to six queen street, if it would work? Dogs that daft that she’d probably get herself run over before I got my smoke.
Unclean! Unclean I feel like a leper.
You know the advert where the owman’s picking up a dog turd when her Ex walks passed with the new girlfriend, well it would be just my luck if Tim chose tonight to decide he’s left something here. “He’s seen you bleach your facial hair …he’s licked your belly button with his tongue” I’ve got a new line to add to the song. “He’s seen you covered head to toe in smelly scabies cream” Hah the shame! Do hope Cli’ doesn’t come home tonight with one of his girlies.
11th July 2002.
I watched a program last night that angered me so much. It was about a pair of homophobic men who went to stay for a week with a gay couple. If those two wart-hogs are representative of today’s average hetrosexual, then I’m ashamed of being straight.
They were guests in the home of the other two blokes and they were pure pigs, rude, disrespectful, and the poor gay men were intimidated by thinly veiled insinuations of physical violence.
One said, that if there was a test that could be done on an unborn child to discover whether it had the ‘gay gene’ then he would want it done on his kids, and if they tested posititve, then he would force his wife to have a termination.
I hope after the showing of the program the two rugby playing neanderthals are shunned by their peers. People can’t be blamed for ignorance, but they can be blamed for damned bullying rudeness.
Andrew and Eileen (Marians son (not the one I went out with for seven years and wish I’d never left, his brother, and his wife) are coming tomorrow, we are going out for lunch and then taking Mark to the zoo. It won’t do him any harm to have an extra day off in a good cause. And then on Saturday the (quite) famous writer Simon King is coming to stay for the weekend. I’ve been friends with Sime for about five years now and Mark loves him. He’s one of the best horror writers I’ve ever read, but he tends to be a little bit stuffy in real life (bit of an old woman but in the nicest possible way). He’s a damned good friend. He’s just this week finished his fourth novel ‘Wings of Atlantis’
So we’ve got quite a busy few days, but I’m financially strapped and could have done without one or other of them.
12th July 2002.
I watched a program last night and it featured a singer called Reba something-or-other. I’ve been thinking about it all morning it’s sparked a question in my mind and I can’t work out the answer.
This lady can’t sing, she sounds awful, constantly reaching for notes that aren’t kept on a particularly high shelf. She has vauge reminiscenses of Hilda Ogden. So why do people buy her records? Why is she in the country charts almost all the time? Why do people sit glued to her music videos? I’ve got a fairly decent voice, better than Reba Whatisit, but people aren’t flocking out to buy my albums. Probably because I haven’t made any, but even if I had I doubt I’d sell many, I just don’t have that good a voice.
So maybe the reason she earns her living as a country music singer is that people are more interested in the fact that she has a big, invasive sister attatched to the side of her face, than they are about her singing. Having her con-joined sister fixed to her head must make breathing difficult.
So my question is; Even though she sounds awful, is Reba thingymajig a fantastic singer because of her adversity?
Certainly by con-joined twin standards she’s the best there is. As far as I’m aware she’s the only Siamese twin to ever have a record deal.
Is she someone who stands in her own right as a first class artist? Or is she a person condescended to, humiliated, ridiculed. Is she a self inflicted cruel joke.
These ladys are intelligent, well spoken, opinionated women. Both of them have plenty to say and are articulate at saying it. I find it really distasteful to think of people, particularly people in the music buissness, telling Reba that she’s a fantastic singer. Yes she can carry a tune, but her range is terrible.
People can’t possibly buy her music for her voice, so then it must be for goulish reasons. But whatever the reason may be, she IS selling records. Is that a bad thing?
Singer or freak?
To be encouraged or to be disuaded?
I can’t decide.
Had a bad morning at work. I have one client who is the most disagreeable woman in England. I have the pleasure of doing her because she’s upset every other nurse and carer until they’ve refused to go to her. She’s lonely, and she’s selfish and she’s old and bitter and her life is not giving her much to be plesant about.
I went to B’s today and she commented that I look tired. I don’t know why, I’ve done sod all. Since quitting the pub I don’t know what to do with all the spare time I have. She insisted that I have a cup of tea with her. I hate tea, but Bena’s lovely and it’s quite a few weeks since I had any spare time to sit and have a goss with her.
Anyway I arrived at old Mud-guts ten minutes late, I knew I was going to be in for it. By God did I pay for that cup of tea.
“I thought you were never coming.”
And top of the morning to you too Mrs. R
I made her usual two slices of brown toast. She decided, for the first time ever, she wanted white. Her tea was too hot so I added more milk, then it was too cold so I had to make her another one. She has an ulcerated leg and I’m not due to change her dressing until tomorrow. She insisted that it had been weeping all night so I had to re-dress it. The wound was as dry as her humour. Her support stockings were wet so I had to wash and then dry them in front of the fire (an extra ten minutes) then she moaned that she’d get phenumonia because they hadn’t been aired off properly.
What really pisses me off with this woman, is that, other than to dress her leg, she doesn’t need the call. The reason care has been put into place is primarily to see that she’s still alive every morning. She can do everything for herself, but she’d rather sit Staaarving until I get there so that she has something to winge about.
I have a 26 year old man who is dying from Aids, he’s one of the few that the ‘program’ hasn’t worked for. I’ve got two 30 somethings with progressive MS. They are dying. I have a 50 year old in the last stages of lung cancer. A lady with five children one of them severly handicapped she is quadruplegic. A man with MRSA who has a hole in his lower back to the bone, it is six and a half inches one way by five inches the other. You can fit a hand into the hole.
And then I have this able bodied, sound of mind, elderly lady who whinges constantly because she’s got nothing better to do. She really does try my patience.
Going out with A&E today. Looking forward to it. Mark is bored and constantly looking out of the window every five minutes to see if they’ve arrived yet. I’m not expecting them to get here until at least twelve. Child might not live that long.
He can’t find his new Jeans. It has to be that pair of jeans, no other will do. If they haven’t been put in the wash basket, then how am I supposed to know that they need washing? Children are strange creatures.
Going out for lunch with Kaz today. Quite looking forward to a good gossip and a nice cup of decadent hot chocolate with lashings of whipped cream. Well after a pizza and pasta buffet why worry about the beverage?
Ade came for tea last night, well that is Ade has learned that if he calls directly from work he is guaranteed a feed if he sits long enough He’s one of those men in danger of dying of starvation since his divorce. In fairness he does work hard on the submarines and I don’t blame him for being too lazy to cook when he gets home. He does odd jobs for me, so it’s fair exchange.
I just wish he hadn’t ‘given up’ smoking though. Since he quit four weeks ago he’s smoking 30 cigars a day. They bloody stink. I hate it.
Last night I got a text off our Lou demanding that I go round for a brew as she was dying from boredom. Get used to it girl, that’s life on your own. She recently left her husband after thirteen years of marriage. She’s met a new bloke called Colin. I like him he’s nice and looks as though he’s going to treat her well.
I’ve never seen her looking so happy. The only blight on her horizon is that Les is giving her a terrible time. She can’t stand Colin. Lou is 33 and Col is 51. I strongly suspect that the problem is that Les fancies him herself and is jealous. I’ve seen this tons of times with Les. When I met Tim she was absolutely horrible to me. And now she’s doing the same thing with Lou.
Okay yes he’s old enough to be her dad, and he might not be the best looking bloke in the world and yes he’s got a bit of a gut, but hell can’t she see that he makes her daughter happy? And where’s the harm in that?
She pointed out that in twenty years he’ll be seventy. My god, it’s a new relationship it probably won’t last until he’s seventy and if it does then well done them for getting twenty happy years out of it. I’ve told Les she’s bang out of order. Colin doesn’t beat Lou, he doesn’t womanise, and he seems to treat her well and with respect and tenderness. I’ve told Lou to go with it and if her mother can’t accept it and be civil to Colin then sod her, it’s her loss. Our Les is jealous and can’t stand to see anybody happy. She’s probably right, it might not last five minutes, but for those five minutes Lou is happy, her kids are happy and life is good for her.
Oh well time for a bath got an hour to make this tired old knacker drop dead gorgeous.
10th July 2002.
What a bloody morning. Went to M S (client) and there was no answer. Tried half a dozen times to get the office on the phone and it was the damned machine. I rang for the first time at 8:45 and never got a human being until 11:30. M could have been lying hurt for all that time. This is the third times it’s happened with M she’s extrtreemly sick with lung cancer and emphasema and is constantly being taken into hospital through the night. I’ve told M (my Boss) that unless we get a key for that call, I’m not going to be responsible any longer.
The next three calls passed without incident and then I went to RA. I’ve been saying for weeks that he had some nasty sores that I didn’t like the look of and that he’s doing a lot of scratching. The GP said that it was allergic reaction to meds and prescribed anti-hist. Last week the wounds were weeping and I asked MA (his daughter) to get him re-checked and to ask specifically for an MRSA testing. Anyway now they have decided that both R and M have scabies … lovely!
I had to give him his usual full body wash and then slather him head to foot in Derbac. Problem now though, is whether I have been infested. I suspect not, I’ve been doing him for six weeks and have no unusual scratchings, of course with suffering from Rhesus Disease I tend to itch anyway if my blood overheats, so it’s difficult to tell, especially with being on such high doses of anti-hist myself.
Anyway as a precaution, I’ve taken the rest of the day, and my first three calls tomorrow morning, off and am now sitting stinking. I am covered in aue-de- Derbac. If Mark has an accident today and gets brought home from school by the headmaster I’ll never forgive him. I just hope that Mark is clear. However I don’t have the same hopes for Tim.
It would almost be worth the humiliation of scabie infestation to know that Tim was also ratching all his tender places.
I’m still not happy with the diagnosis though, the sores on RA’s legs are not healing and it is still indicative of MRSA. I’ve taken a blood sample and asked again that he be tested.
Guess where he picked up this problem? Yep Hospital. MRSA is going to hit epidemic proportions over the next ten years if something isn’t done to increase hygiene standards in our hospitals. Most people have never even heard of the condition and yet there are several cases outbreaking every single week from hospitals nation wide. It’s a bugger when you go into hospital sick and come out sicker.
I have to keep this bloody stuff on for 24 hours .. yeuk.
Cried myself to sleep again last night, but at least this time there’s a valid reason for it. I was watching a program about ageing and death and it made me think of Marian. She’s been gone eight months now, and I miss her so much. She was only fifty three and had no bloody right to die. For the last eighteen years she’s always been there for me. Mark couldn’t have had a better Grandmother and we miss her to hell.
One of the last things she said to me before she died was. “It will be all right you know.” Well I want her to know that it isn’t bloody all right. It’s far from all right She is the nearest thing I’ve ever had to a Mother and I need her strength and her wisdom. She loved me unconditionally and I could do no wrong in her eyes even though I told her every single time I messed up. Parenting was so much easier when I had her at the end of the phone line to sound off at. I never once heard her raise her voice to Mark and yet one look from her and she could make him do.
“You won’t tell Nanna will you Mum?”
Damn her, I’m still very angry with her.
I should have known the cancer had returned, all the signs were there, but I just put it down to her MS. The MS made a perfect mask for the cancer to hide behind. And all because she was too bloody stubborn to go for her regular check-ups, stupid woman. I should have kept a closer eye on her and made sure she attended her appointments but she kept telling me she’d been … stupid damned woman. I should have lived closer.
I’ve just made a huge mistake, realised I’ve got no baccy, it’s 12:30 and I haven’t had a cig today. I can’t leave the house to get any .. bugger!
Hmmm I wonder? If I put a fiver in my purse and tied it to the dog’s collar with a note asking for a pouch of baccy to be got from the GB and delivered to six queen street, if it would work? Dogs that daft that she’d probably get herself run over before I got my smoke.
Unclean! Unclean I feel like a leper.
You know the advert where the owman’s picking up a dog turd when her Ex walks passed with the new girlfriend, well it would be just my luck if Tim chose tonight to decide he’s left something here. “He’s seen you bleach your facial hair …he’s licked your belly button with his tongue” I’ve got a new line to add to the song. “He’s seen you covered head to toe in smelly scabies cream” Hah the shame! Do hope Cli’ doesn’t come home tonight with one of his girlies.
11th July 2002.
I watched a program last night that angered me so much. It was about a pair of homophobic men who went to stay for a week with a gay couple. If those two wart-hogs are representative of today’s average hetrosexual, then I’m ashamed of being straight.
They were guests in the home of the other two blokes and they were pure pigs, rude, disrespectful, and the poor gay men were intimidated by thinly veiled insinuations of physical violence.
One said, that if there was a test that could be done on an unborn child to discover whether it had the ‘gay gene’ then he would want it done on his kids, and if they tested posititve, then he would force his wife to have a termination.
I hope after the showing of the program the two rugby playing neanderthals are shunned by their peers. People can’t be blamed for ignorance, but they can be blamed for damned bullying rudeness.
Andrew and Eileen (Marians son (not the one I went out with for seven years and wish I’d never left, his brother, and his wife) are coming tomorrow, we are going out for lunch and then taking Mark to the zoo. It won’t do him any harm to have an extra day off in a good cause. And then on Saturday the (quite) famous writer Simon King is coming to stay for the weekend. I’ve been friends with Sime for about five years now and Mark loves him. He’s one of the best horror writers I’ve ever read, but he tends to be a little bit stuffy in real life (bit of an old woman but in the nicest possible way). He’s a damned good friend. He’s just this week finished his fourth novel ‘Wings of Atlantis’
So we’ve got quite a busy few days, but I’m financially strapped and could have done without one or other of them.
12th July 2002.
I watched a program last night and it featured a singer called Reba something-or-other. I’ve been thinking about it all morning it’s sparked a question in my mind and I can’t work out the answer.
This lady can’t sing, she sounds awful, constantly reaching for notes that aren’t kept on a particularly high shelf. She has vauge reminiscenses of Hilda Ogden. So why do people buy her records? Why is she in the country charts almost all the time? Why do people sit glued to her music videos? I’ve got a fairly decent voice, better than Reba Whatisit, but people aren’t flocking out to buy my albums. Probably because I haven’t made any, but even if I had I doubt I’d sell many, I just don’t have that good a voice.
So maybe the reason she earns her living as a country music singer is that people are more interested in the fact that she has a big, invasive sister attatched to the side of her face, than they are about her singing. Having her con-joined sister fixed to her head must make breathing difficult.
So my question is; Even though she sounds awful, is Reba thingymajig a fantastic singer because of her adversity?
Certainly by con-joined twin standards she’s the best there is. As far as I’m aware she’s the only Siamese twin to ever have a record deal.
Is she someone who stands in her own right as a first class artist? Or is she a person condescended to, humiliated, ridiculed. Is she a self inflicted cruel joke.
These ladys are intelligent, well spoken, opinionated women. Both of them have plenty to say and are articulate at saying it. I find it really distasteful to think of people, particularly people in the music buissness, telling Reba that she’s a fantastic singer. Yes she can carry a tune, but her range is terrible.
People can’t possibly buy her music for her voice, so then it must be for goulish reasons. But whatever the reason may be, she IS selling records. Is that a bad thing?
Singer or freak?
To be encouraged or to be disuaded?
I can’t decide.
Had a bad morning at work. I have one client who is the most disagreeable woman in England. I have the pleasure of doing her because she’s upset every other nurse and carer until they’ve refused to go to her. She’s lonely, and she’s selfish and she’s old and bitter and her life is not giving her much to be plesant about.
I went to B’s today and she commented that I look tired. I don’t know why, I’ve done sod all. Since quitting the pub I don’t know what to do with all the spare time I have. She insisted that I have a cup of tea with her. I hate tea, but Bena’s lovely and it’s quite a few weeks since I had any spare time to sit and have a goss with her.
Anyway I arrived at old Mud-guts ten minutes late, I knew I was going to be in for it. By God did I pay for that cup of tea.
“I thought you were never coming.”
And top of the morning to you too Mrs. R
I made her usual two slices of brown toast. She decided, for the first time ever, she wanted white. Her tea was too hot so I added more milk, then it was too cold so I had to make her another one. She has an ulcerated leg and I’m not due to change her dressing until tomorrow. She insisted that it had been weeping all night so I had to re-dress it. The wound was as dry as her humour. Her support stockings were wet so I had to wash and then dry them in front of the fire (an extra ten minutes) then she moaned that she’d get phenumonia because they hadn’t been aired off properly.
What really pisses me off with this woman, is that, other than to dress her leg, she doesn’t need the call. The reason care has been put into place is primarily to see that she’s still alive every morning. She can do everything for herself, but she’d rather sit Staaarving until I get there so that she has something to winge about.
I have a 26 year old man who is dying from Aids, he’s one of the few that the ‘program’ hasn’t worked for. I’ve got two 30 somethings with progressive MS. They are dying. I have a 50 year old in the last stages of lung cancer. A lady with five children one of them severly handicapped she is quadruplegic. A man with MRSA who has a hole in his lower back to the bone, it is six and a half inches one way by five inches the other. You can fit a hand into the hole.
And then I have this able bodied, sound of mind, elderly lady who whinges constantly because she’s got nothing better to do. She really does try my patience.
Going out with A&E today. Looking forward to it. Mark is bored and constantly looking out of the window every five minutes to see if they’ve arrived yet. I’m not expecting them to get here until at least twelve. Child might not live that long.
He can’t find his new Jeans. It has to be that pair of jeans, no other will do. If they haven’t been put in the wash basket, then how am I supposed to know that they need washing? Children are strange creatures.