Monday, March 9, 2009

He's at it again..

Ring Ring,

Hello, CCC pharmacy can I help you?

PC: Is Eve there?

"It's for you Eve, I don't know who it is, they sound upset?"

Me: Hi, how can I help you.

PC: It's #4.

Me: Silence

PC: Hello.......hellooooo, I know you're there.

Me:, it's me. Did you try home.

PC: You don't know what he's done yet.

Me: Did you try our house first?

PC: Yes, Come and get him.

Me: I should be able to make it in....


Me: (carefully) What did he do?

PC: It's shave for a cure day in a few days. (People shave their heads for charity.)

Me: Yes?

PC: S****** J***** had long blond hair this morning. (My heart beat really fast here.)Do you use food colouring at home?

Me: ? (gulp)

PC: Green food colouring?

Me: ? sorry

PC: S.J's hair is green, all over.

Me: Thank God for that. (People colour their hair as well on shave for a cure day.)

PC: ?

Me: Oh I thought you meant he'd cut her hair off. (Short pause) How blonde was her hair, and how long?

PC: White, she can sit on it.

Me: Oh

PC: Come and get him, NOW.

Luckily SJ's mum is being pretty cool about it, she laughed and said "It'll come out easier then the bubble gum did. I have two boys, don't worry. Really, don't worry."

I had my doubts that #4 had done it as there is no trace of green on him, which seems highly unlikely. The teacher says he put his hands in plastic bags to protect them while he coloured S's hair, "like the hairdresser does". The teacher looked meaningfully at my newly coloured hair.

We left.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

A new doctor.

I decided I would get a new doctor, one that instilled confidence into me, one that seemed to know what he (or she) was talking about, one that would tell me what the heck is going on with my health. I did research and found a GP that 1. Is known as good at hearts and 2. Is open when I can see them. (A combo that is no small feat in our town.)

Mmmmm. For my survival a good idea, for my peace of mind a bad idea. I need ten more years before #3 and #4 are "old enough", obviously I'd like more.

I explained how every time I'd seen my last doctor he'd given me a new diagnosis, worse than the last, so I'd stopped going. A plan that, so far, was working very well for me. My new doctor agreed that some of my old diagnoses did seem a bit "out there", so we'd start from scratch, so to speak.

It got worse though, apparently denial is not an effective cure for heart disease. (Who knew? lol). So, an increase in blood pressure meds, a new medicine added and a new shaking of head and tutting at my ecg and another armful of blood later I await a new dreadful diagnosis in a state of denial.

Also, I can't start smoking again. This is good news, I have always maintained that when I get ill enough I shall start smoking again as it was a past time I enjoyed. Once my health is truly stuffed there will be no point in maintaining my abstinence and I shall restart.

Yes, folks it's six months since I quit and although I wouldn't kill anyone for a cigarette, or even harm them severely, I still want one, a lot.

Unfortunately (actually fortunately) I can maintain my exercise regime and increase it, but the lard butties have to stay off the menu.

My new doctor gave me a talking to, and a plan of action.

1. Actually get blood pressure under control.

2. Probably add more meds to the ever increasing list I am on, although he did stop two as pointless.

3. Try and actually lose some weight....perhaps 20 kilos? mm? (I didn't hide my sulking about this)

4. Increase my exercise (see 3.)

5. Lose about three inches off my waist ( a deal struck from the initial six he wanted.)

6. Less cheese and salt.

7. And, No, smoking is still out. (I knew that, but I keep checking.)

A slightly depressing post, but I need to itemise my plan of action and actually stick with it. Writing down what needs doing means I (may) have to do so some of it, or at least face facts.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Cyclone watch

Cyclone Hamish is sitting off the coast, lurking with intent. So far it is taking after its name and wavering about like a Glaswegian on Sauchiehall (or something) street on a Saturday night.

Jokingly, last time they called a cyclone a stupid name (Larry) I said that nothing with such a dumb name could do much damage, at which point it set off for our house in a straight line unheard of before or since in cyclone mapping. In deference to this history I shall say that Hamish will be taking after all things Celtic and causing mayhem and madness (or falling down drunk in the middle of the coral sea after an all nighter.)

Hamish is only a three, and we've bought a generator, so I think all in all we'll be fine.

#1 wants to be sure we've got enough beer in, #2 wants to go to her boyfriends, #3 has practised the trumpet (oblivious as always) and #4 wants to know if the roof is going to blow off. Yes, yes, stop that and hopefully not.