6 months ago today….

It seems hard to believe that 6 months ago I was sitting on a hospital bed waiting to go down to the operating theatre and less than 24 hours later (ahead of all expectations) I was out of intensive care and back in the same ward. OK it’s true, I was flat on my back and feeling rather groggy, but the operation was over and had been a great success.

So, here I am 6 months on and I feel pretty great. I’d be lying if I said that I am completely healed (so I won’t) and it’s true I’m still getting some pain from my rib removal site (but maybe wouldn’t do if I was a bit kinder to my body), but mostly I feel, well, great actually. Just recently I’ve been feeling fitter than I have for years too – my lung function had decreased so gradually I had no idea it wasn’t perfect, until they made a bit more space in me for my lungs to work properly. You wouldn’t believe how much fun breathing is these days!!

Of course I'm sure that there will be those people who tell you that since I now use 2 sticks to walk outside that things are worse, but my major lurching limp has gone so in fact I think my walking is much better – and anyway, my physio says 2 sticks or none, so it looks like I’ve been doing it all wrong for the last few years anyway. There will also be people who say that because I am now using my wheelchair more, this means that things are worse but in reality, I am just being more sensible! So – all you pessimists out there – don’t listen to yourselves, listen to me instead – things are so much better for me it isn’t true!

Other things that may interest all the twisted babes out there – my heartburn is hugely improved (I’d like to say gone as I have been heartburn free for a couple of weeks and am nearly off the tablets but I’d like a few months free before I count all the chickens^*1). I haven’t had problems swallowing for about 3 months so that’s brilliant too. Muscle spasms have nearly all gone and my worst pain is either from my rib removal site (which will heal in time) or from my lower back (where I have arthritis).

So, as updates go, in many ways there’s nothing to report except that life is good – and oh yes, am I happy I had it done? Well, I have an amazing (nearly) straight body and I am wearing clothes I would have felt uncomfortable in before. My pain levels have much decreased and my surgeon has given me the kind of future I feared I might never have.

You bet I’m glad I had it done!

^*1 Including those that have actually crossed the road

I have a new car

I have a nice new car. Actually, that statement doesn’t really say it at all as in fact the car is most definitely not new, it is actually very old, its just finally come to me (just like it was always meant to).

Now, you have to realise that I like cars. I mean I really like cars, really, really like them. I always liked cars, right from when I was little and (although I know its not a very girlie thing to do) I thought there was nothing better than getting out in the garage with my daddy and taking the car to pieces. Of course the being with my (fabulous) dad might have had something to do with it, but it left me with a love of the things. Long car journeys were filled with spotting different makes and models and I almost managed to completely fill my I-Spy car number plates. I can even remember most of the makes and models that my parents owned, let alone the ones that hubby and I have had.

When hubby and I got married, we couldn’t afford a second car and this went on for years. At one point we found ourselves with a 2+2 sports coupe which I had bought from a young lad up the road and as our only car, it was used for everything - even deliveries for hubby’s job. It just wasn’t big enough and finally we got a big car for hubby but I kept ‘my’ Deidre for some time until she fell to pieces with rust. Ever since, I have fancied another one or possibly an ‘upgrade’ to the ones they made a year later (which had a bigger engine among other things). You don’t see them very often, most of them have long since died, but there I was idly browsing through Ebay (classic auto*) and I saw one^*1 and it looked perfect (to me!).

Hubby came home that night and said “I’ve been thinking we might get a second car again” – which I took as fate! There was one slight problem, it was on the far edge of the country, right around where if you kept going, you’d have to stop driving and start sailing!
This is where PTV and his lovely wife came into my fiendish plan - I asked PTV to go and check it out for me as there is no-one whose opinion I value more when it comes to cars^*2 and he sent me a text which said simply “Buy it!” – so I did (well truthfully, he did, and then he checked it out some more, and then he got the tyres done and so on – so I owe him big time…!). Anyway, he and his lovely wife came down to ours for hubby’s birthday party and they drove it down for me. These are seriously good friends, aren’t they? Everyone please, big round of applause.

Anyway, since hubby’s birthday was one of those significant ones (the ones that end in a big fat O) - he complained that it was his birthday, but I got a car. I gave him my (big but boring) car in exchange, what more does he want??

^*1I do this whilst listening to canned musack on those hideous automated phone services. I sit there and look at the Cobras, Vipers and Ponies (for the uninitiated these are cars, not animals) and dream about empty roads and being able to reach the pedals.
^*2This is the absolute truth.

I feel like I'm at the Oscars ...

Hubby and I just threw a party to celebrate(?) his coming of age, or of becoming half the age of an antique or something like that…

It was great and loads of our really close friends came to visit – the first time I have seen many of them since my operation. I am so grateful for them all turning up but even more so to them all for washing up, clearing up and generally tidying up whilst I sat there perched on a stool. Apparently I was supposed to be ‘giving directions’^*1, but I know it was all done to help me out and I am really eternally grateful. Now in best Oscars tradition I would like to thank ummm, well everyone. There are a few ‘special’ people out there – the B.U.F. ^*2 for one and my (soon to be famous) author friend for another, but to single them out would be unfair, when I saw lots more than two pairs of dishpan hands. Anyway (she says wiping a tear from the corner of her eye ) thank you everyone – you not only made the party special by your presence, but made it easy on me too. Thank you!

^*1 And just how complicated is it to load a dishwasher that I need to give instructions?
^*2 I’ll tell you another time…

BTW, all that sitting around watching other people work, has made me very tired and I am off to sleep for a week so blogging is going to temporarily cease….

Good Luck Ly!!!

There's someone who I've never met, who lives 'across the pond' and spends her time baking what look to be the most fabulous cakes. She has hummingbirds in her garden (of which I am supremely jealous). She has two boys, is almost the same age as me and likes lighthouses and the sea. You see, I've never met her, but I feel I know her very well. She encouraged me before I went in for my surgery and since. Well, it's her turn now and I just wanted to wish her lots of good wishes. If you feel like offering your own luck or prayers, please do so as I want her to recover as well as me. One day maybe we'll even meet up and compare scars....

Good Luck Ly!!!!

Torture in a box?

I recently bought an epilator from a well known TV shopping channel. I did this because I get a money back guarantee and I figured that if it hurt like f**k (which I thought it probably would) I could send it back. Oh yes, and on the subject of sending it back – what do they do with used personal items like that? Best not to go there I think…

Anyway, I got it out of the box and it looked at me for a week or so while I built up courage to use it – after all, these things are pulling your hair out by the roots and this one is an ‘all over body’ model so not for use on just your legs. In fact, if it was for use on just your legs, I wouldn’t have bought it, as I have no hair on my legs. Yes, that’s right – no hair on my legs – never have had – something to do with my wonky wiring I guess. Actually it is no longer strictly true that I have no hair on my legs, as since the operation (and only since the operation), I have had a patch about the size of the palm of my hand, growing on my left shin. Weird huh? Anyway, you may be wondering why I would want such a device if I have no hair on my legs – well, it’s my pits you see – long and lustrous ain’t in it^*1 – I even have to take a razor on a weeks holiday with me (and use it twice). It’s a pain and so is epilating under your arms as I discovered today (I am sat here at my keyboard with my arms stuck out at right angles as far away from my body as possible typing this with my nose ^*2). The hair under my arms grows so fast, that that, coupled with my impossibly long arms and my constant desire to dye my hair red, makes me wonder just how closely I am related to an orang utan - especially based on this recent picture of me!

So, I bet you are all wondering just how it worked out and so I thought I’d give you all a little review. I started off with the patch of hair on my leg – hey I thought, this is great, doesn’t hurt at all…completely overlooking the fact that I can’t actually feel anything on that bit of skin anyway so it wasn’t really a fair test on which to base a ‘whole body decision’. Bravely I went from there to my underarms. That was ummm…different! You know that thing where you don’t want to touch something horrid (like rotting seaweed at the beach or stinging nettles found at the back of the flower bed) and you just kind of dab at it quickly – well, that’s what I did and boy does that bring tears to your eyes. What you have to do is pull the skin taut, grit your teeth and get in there. Once you’re going it’s not too bad – uncomfortable yes, but not as bad as getting a tattoo – and it gets easier the more you do (probably ‘cos there’s less hair to pull out). So there you go – I did the other side too and my bikini line (not too bad but like it says in the instructions trim it first girls and boys) and now I can’t wait to use my new torture device on other people ()

OK, final note – just in case I have made you all so excited at the prospect of using one of these things (you may actually like pain after all) – was it worth it? Well, so far, I’d say yes – I have impossibly smooth pits (like I’ve always dreamed of) and if it is true that you only have to do it every 6-8 weeks then it’s masochism for me all the way…

^*1 This is actuslly a bit of an exaggeration and I've been told a million times not to do that...
^*2 This of course is a lie. In fact, I have no residual soreness…I was just trying to be funny.

The suit of armour

I read somewhere on one of the forums I belong to about someone complaining about being stuck in a suit of armour. Well, maybe they didn’t say they were actually stuck; I think perhaps it was just something to describe how their body felt. Anyway, despite searching the archives, I haven’t been able to find the particular post again so I can remember what version of it I like, I guess.

The thread writer explained that it was something to do with a strange sensation around their ribcage that they had after having had their ribs removed for anterior surgery. The memory of the thread only stayed with me as it seemed some kind of odd comparison – I mean how many people actually get to wear suits of armour these days. I suppose its possible she belonged to some kind of medieval re-enacting society but surely as a ‘girlie’ she wouldn’t be trying on the armour (unless it was like this). Anyway, you can imagine that with a brain like mine (you must be getting an idea of how I am just a little bit odd by now) – the mental picture stayed with me of this poor woman trapped in her suit of armour.

Many moons have gone by since that post, but I find myself thinking about it a lot recently. In fact, I have good reason to, as the area around my ribcage is starting to feel quite odd. Now it may be all the bending and stretching I’m doing and all the lifting my arm up (darn sports again!) but it feels umm not unlike you would imagine a suit of armour if it were a bit tight. It’s something like a one sided corset – maybe something like half of this ^*1 . BTW, please don’t look at this picture if you are

• a) underage..... or
• b) have never learned about the birds and the bees and fetish wear.

The suit of armour description is sounding better all the time – I can’t go round telling people it feels like I have a tight rubber corset where my ribs used to be – they’d think I was mad^*2! It’s not a bit like telling them I feel like I’m wearing a suit of armour – I’m sure they’d think that was all quite normal after all…

^*1Torture v. thickening waist??–ummm, pass the chocolate please…
^*2…der. You don’t get it – read it and this again – quickly and in sequence thank you!

I went swimming!

Today I went swimming for the first time since my op. It was great! Now before I go on, I should explain what kind of a swimmer I am – you see swimming is not really something that I do, it’s more what I am really. I’m sure any attempt to explain it will sound just like mystical claptrap, but I was born to swim, you see. I go to the pool and I watch other people struggle up and down the lanes and its obviously hard work for them. Well, and I don’t wish to make all you puffing and panting types jealous, it’s not like that for me. I just get in the water and I swim – if don’t go in for months I can jump in and swim a mile. You see, I could swim before I could walk and swimming is just who I am! Mystical, maybe, claptrap, almost certainly, but there you go.

Well, enough of all that, back to where I was. Today I went swimming for the first time since my op nearly 6 months ago. I was given the all clear to do so about 3 weeks ago but life got in the way and I just didn’t get round to going to the pool. TBH, I was a bit scared – what if I could no longer do this wonderful thing that I’ve been able to do all my life? What if my metalwork stopped me from floating? What if my scar pulled too much to do front crawl? ^*1 So many questions….

Anyway, I got in the water and did 25 lengths. It was fine apart from a few things. This is what I learnt:

1. My legs no longer seem to work in the water. This is odd but not completely unexpected. When I was a kid they never did very much at all and then I learned to roll my hips to get them to work – since I no longer twist in the back I can no longer roll the hips. Ergo, legs don’t work. OK, odd, but at least you’re more streamlined!
2. Pushing off from the edge hurts my back. This is not really true – it’s only if you hit the wrong angle (which is most of them). By the end of my time in the pool I’d found a way round this.
3. Men in the Jacuzzi are very nice at rescuing your walking sticks when you drop them whilst trying to find your glasses. I don’t think this is because I was in a bathing suit and that they thought I was beautiful. More likely they were mesmerised by my wobbling thighs.
4. Despite not using my legs I did 25 lengths in 12 minutes. This would put my mile at 36 minutes. When I was young I could do a sub 30min mile without breathing heavily or even thinking about it and it has been my dream to get back to that. Just before my op I did it in 30 minutes and 50 seconds which I thought was pretty good (especially considering my advanced years!) – 36 minutes would be fine and dandy (as a start!)
5. Fat ladies who have just come out of aqua aerobics and who are taking the opportunity to stand in the centre of the pool and gossip, occupy an awful lot of space and get in your way.

Well that’s it really, I went, I swam and I showered, I came home. It was nice…

^*1 I don’t do breaststroke, it involves moving your legs in some completely stupid way – goodness knows what kind of an idiot invented it!!.

Please note there are no smilies in this post because I am trying to cut down...

A weekend of fun......

Well, how things have changed in the last few months for me…

Me and the BMB ^*1 were supposed to be going away together for a few days – yup ^*2, we were running away without hubby. Umm, just before you get any ideas, hubby knew and was happy about it and no, we do not have that kind of marriage…

Anyway, back to where I was. Me and the BMB were supposed to be going away last Wednesday and because of my delicate medical state (yeah, right!) the BMB was supposed to be driving. Tuesday he rang me:

Me “You packed, ‘n’ ready to go?”
BMB, “Um there’s a bit of a problem” ^*3
Me “You’re not backing out are you?”
BMB “Gawd no, it’s just that the brakes on the car are shagged and we have no transport”
Me “Ah, looks like I’m driving then – heck, I’ve been driving for 2 weeks now, I bet I can just jump in the car and go right across the country – it’ll be fun…”

So anyway (I say that a lot, don’t I) – long story short (difficult for me but I will try my best) – we headed off in the car and I drove. Secretly, I think the BMB was terrified – especially after I told him I couldn’t twist any longer to check if the way was clear to overtake or to turn out of steeply angled junctions. Since I drive the car like a dodgem too (I only have two speeds in a car, ram foot on pedal and go fast or ram foot on brake and stop), I imagine his poor knuckles were white for about half the trip until he realised that I hadn’t actually forgotten how to do it and wasn’t really going to kill us both! I didn’t though and we got there fine – even if I did find it pretty tiring.

Once there, we met up with a whole bunch of friends and decided it would be a really fun idea to sit out in the baking sun for several days and see how easy it is to get sunstroke. Actually there’s a reason for this as many of you will know, as I am involved in sport at a pretty high level, and this trip was all about getting back into competition. It went great – the BMB ran around helping everyone out like some kind of blue arsed fly and was hugely loved by everyone for it. I (after not doing any training at all for 5 months) had a fab time and came away really happy with a silver medal too!

So, in all this, what of my back? Well, considering everything it was mostly OK. After the driving there, the 4 days of sitting out in the sun without any shade for the hottest 4 days this year, all the exercise, catching up with a bunch of mates and the driving home (phew!) I got though it all. I did learn some stuff though – stretching too much hurts your scar and where your ribs should be. Doing too much exercise makes your back ache and when it does I end up dragging my leg around like its attached to a ball and chain (or maybe like I’m walking through glue – oh yes, or even quicksand…). But despite all this it was superb.

There was one odd thing and it only happened with the BMB – I found that when I look up at him look up at a certain angle I go all dizzy. First of all I though that maybe it was because he was so handsome or something^*4, but now I think it’s because he is so tall. When I started PT I was getting lots of these spells and my physio told me that told me that this would happen (no, not that I would come over all unnecessary at tall men, don’t be silly), but the dizzy spells. She said that because I had spent so many years with my head held oddly to compensate for the balance of my spine, it had to readjust for the new position. At first I got dizzy going upstairs and although I put it down to altitude sickness, it did get better if I didn’t look up to see where I was going. Over the past few months, the spells have got much better, but I’d better learn fast not to look up at tall men on my right hand side - unless I want to be known as the girl who swoons at the feet of tall stangers…!

^*1 See earlier postings.
^*2 Certain people may find this funny…
^*3 Lots of ‘sorries’ followed this bit.
^*4 I have to say this or he will be hurt.

Mobile phone ringtones

You have to wonder sometimes about why people use different ring-tones on their mobile phone. Is it their favourite record (I admit to having tried this but heavy metal just doesn’t sound the same …grin ) or is it just what’s fashionable like the Crazy Frog thing? (And despite what people think of me I am not so annoying that I ever tried that!). Well, I’ll tell you what I use and why. The simple ‘why’ is that all the things that came on my phone were really, really awful except one. I have a Motorola phone ^*1 and they’re quite common ^*2 so imagine (and this is true, believe me) – all those people who can’t be a*sed to download anything new try all the ring-tones that come with the phone. They too find that they are all really, really awful except one – so they use that one. Result? Phone rings in Tesco and twenty people all start digging in their handbags and pockets…

Anyway, back to me – ‘cos this is my blog and I can write about me in it if I want. I use the Mission Impossible theme – corny huh? Well, it represents the fact that I almost never get to it in time to answer it – that’s where the Mission Impossible bit comes in. Is it buried in the bowels of my handbag, amongst discarded sweet wrappers, a purse, a swiss army knife, keys, a tape measure, a nail file (why? When I have a swiss army knife), a lipstick (again why? Have you ever seen me wearing it?) and a dozen other things that may or may not belong to me? Or, is it simply in the lounge when I am in the kitchen? (I am so slow that I could be beaten in a race to get to it by a tortoise riding on the back of a slug!) If it is in the lounge, there is every likelihood that it could be under the sofa^*3 where the cats have probably tried to hide it in order to muffle the irritating ring-tone. It could be just about anywhere in fact…

You see…what and why……

BTW, I do know someone very close to me who has a very normal ring-tone for their everyday calls but uses the special ring-tone of the Addams Family just for the mother in law….

^*1I have a pink V3 – I love it and this does not make me a poser or chav – I just like it – OK?
^*2 Yes, you’re right, pink V3’s aren’t that common – but it seems that Motorola use pretty much the same ringtones for all their phone models.
^*3 If you don't get this link, here's a hint - look at the pictures.

5 Months Post Op today

Actually, I’m lying, I’m not 5 months today, I will be 5 months tomorrow – but that’s Saturday. You may be thinking that the Internet is still there on a Saturday, but I won’t be. Not that I’ll be away or anything but as I’ve mentioned before – I’m a weekday blogger!

So, at 5 months, how do I feel? Well pretty darn good actually. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have any pain because I do, but some of that is caused by the arthritis I have at the base of my spine, and the operation was never going to make that go away! I am still getting pain from my ribs (or lack of them). The ‘phantom’ ones in particular really play me up – of course, it may also have something to do with the fact that my chest drain was really close to this area and my diaphragm got sliced in two as well. Thinking about that – I’m assuming it will take a long time before coughing and sneezing doesn’t result in a string of expletives!

I’m also getting some pain in my left hip – I had such a big sideshift that my right leg used to take all my weight. Now my left one has to do some of the work and it whinges from time to time…Oh yes, and I still have the dead thigh thing – looks like I’m stuck with it. (Not to worry, it’ll be handy at party times when we don’t have anywhere suitable to play ‘pin the tail on the donkey’). Thankfully, the feeling is starting to come back around my scar and at the rate it’s going I think I should be able to feel my podgy tummy properly by Christmas! Seriously the tummy is not as podgy as it was, just still a bit swollen over my ribs –“still have some fullness there” as my surgeon nicely(?) put it!
So, to drugs - no, not that type (!) – the ones I’m supposed to take, what of them? Well, my standard painkillers are down to about the same as they were before the op – I’m taking less of them at a slightly higher dose. I am managing to steadily decrease them at the moment so watch this space. The news on the nerve pain is not so hot. I recently went to my doctor and said I wanted to reduce the dose, as since I had no nerve pain whilst on them I thought this meant I was fixed. She thought it odd that someone wanted to get off their medication (our surgery is in that kind of area ^*1) but decided to humour me. I reduced my dosage by one tablet and the pain came back – not badly, but enough for me to realise I wasn’t ‘fixed’. I’m staying on current levels for another month and will have another go. Can’t be helped, but it’s my only piece of bad news so that’s pretty good I think.

My major problems with heartburn have definitely improved. I’m still having some attacks, but they are much less frequent and definitely less painful. I’ve been told that it can take up to a year for everything to settle into its new place so there’s still time for this to improve even more. I no longer seem to have any problems swallowing which is just great. My digestion is back to normal (mostly) – the only odd thing is the habit my stomach has of gurgling madly when I first lie down in bed at night. Hubby has gone from laughing at it to (now he’s used to it) telling me he’s finding it soothing – “rather like whale song” he says!

Apart from all of this stuff, I feel really well in myself. Of course, we’ve had a fair bit of sun lately and I love sunny weather. Having my restrictions lifted has meant that I can go out in the car and also get out and potter in the garden – something I really enjoy. It all means I’m much less frustrated with not being able (or allowed) to do anything.

An odd upside (I think) that I didn’t expect is the fact that I have had to buy so many new clothes. I thought I might like to (as different styles would now fit), but I never expected to have to replace all my trousers ^*2. It seems that enough of your lumbar spine is below your waistband to make a difference and your waistband just simply doesn’t end up being, well, where it used to be! For me, I have decided to have a bit of a new look – I am growing my hair (yes really) to a longer short style and have even bought a t-shirt recently which has flowers on it instead of a slogan. Give me another year or so and people will accuse me of growing up!

Anyway, I know this is a long post but I guess these update ones will be. The next back one will be on or around the 8th of August. Then, I shall be 6 months post op – can you believe it?

^*1 Here in Wales, everything is bilingual – Welsh^*3 and English. The signs in our surgery are in about 17 languages whereas in our old one (way over in Wooly West Wales^*4) you were lucky sometimes to find the English sign!
^*2 L. and all the other friends in US, you’d call these pants – over here pants are what go under your trousers (if you get my drift). An aside on this subject (just to save any embarrassment) is that in the good ole US of A, what you call a fanny means something very different over here. Over here it’s a – well, I can’t say, I’m too much of a lady, but it’s something that little girls have one of, and little boys don’t! Oh, and on a similar note, a gem for my Australian readers – if you want to seal a parcel, don’t ask for Durex in the UK – you’ll just get a well know prophylactic. I used this nice long word so I didn’t have to use any rude words, but if you don’t know what one of those is, please look here – don’t Google it – heaven knows what you’ll come up with…..
^*3 Learn it here, with Colin and Cumberland!
^*4Have you noticed how often www crops up - spooky eh? I wonder if it's something to do with the mice myself....

I've added some more links - look...

I thought I’d start with some fun – and absolutely no poetry – guaranteed! And oh yes, this does have an American flavour, but why not?

Then, there’s the gadgets weblog. I always knew that there were things missing from my life, I just never realised that they were a computer rear view mirror and a pancake maker that imprints Jesus’s face on everything I cook! Well, it’s important that you too know about these things….BTW, there are serious items here too – it’s not all fun and games you know!

The next site that I drop into from time to time is The Apothecaries drawer. This is just an amazing website full of – well, I don’t know what really, just lots of stuff. It calls itself an eclectic and sceptical look at topics near the triple point of science arts and culture. I keep going back to the blog in particular (even though it’s not updated that often) - I don’t think I’ve scratched the surface of it, but it is just stuffed full of amazing , well, stuff. It was here that I came across the work of Rob Gonsalves . This man has some incredibly Escher-like touches – some of the stuff is just brilliant – very surreal and totally amazing.

This one is being added to my links page - Clothing ideas for people with back irregularities

Oh yes, and on the subject of eclectic stuff – OK, so I didn’t actually say that my links were eclectic, but you must have guessed by now…anyway, I just love this blog by, and called Paper Lily. It’s comment on design really, but good (or simply unusual) design comes into so many of our everyday items and mostly we just ignore it. I think it’s good to stop and look at the beauty of a colander once in a while…..

The Perfect Daytime TV Show

Whilst I have been unable to do anything (you don’t know why? Keep up, keep up…), I have watched a certain amount of daytime TV. I’ve still chosen what I wanted to watch rather than just leaving the box on all day and I am still unaware how many soaps there are on every day. Maybe they all have soporific theme tunes or something – that might explain it. Anyway, I have noticed that there are a large number of cookery/DIY/Gardening shows on along with the normal daytime stuff and after I woke up the other morning, having had one of those really bizarre dreams in which the world as you know it is completely weird and you’re married to your high school teacher who is an alien or some other such rubbish ^*1 and it occurred to me that I had, overnight, come up with the perfect daytime TV show. It goes something like this…

The show has two contestants who have to choose a house in the country and then break into it – outlining its security weaknesses. Once inside, they have to identify any valuables and then auction them in order to fund a complete makeover of every room in the house, including the kitchen. As soon as the kitchen is finished, they have to cook a meal and invite 6 perfect strangers, picked randomly out of the phone book to come to dinner. They then must re-plan and plant the front garden in such a way that the presenters of the programme can identify it easily in order to bring the contestants back to the studio. Backstage in the studio will be the owners of the house that has just been broken into and completely remodelled on a pittance. They are invited to meet the contestants. (Any abuse hurled at this point will only add to the general excitement of the show). The winner is the person who manages to complete the task in just one day and it will be broadcast in real time over 24 single hour episodes. Kergchung, kergchung…….<sup>*2

*1</sup>Actually in my dream, the house was full of things that weren’t my cats but looked like them. In reality they were man-eating monsters that had disguised themselves as cats (how they did the size change I have no idea because when they were monsters they were man sized not cat sized – I mean, cat sized man eating monsters wouldn’t be too bad, umm unless there were thousands of them of course). I would have killed them all but I couldn’t tell them apart and didn’t want to kill my own cats (they were cunning enough to never appear at the same time). I ran away (yeah right) at one point and was cornered by the back door (which wasn’t my back door, even though it was my house – in fact it seemed to be in my lounge?) and when one of them tapped me on the shoulder I screamed so loud I woke myself up. Gosh the brain is a strange thing….
^*2 I’m an addict I’m afraid on this

The all new P.W.S.B.K awards

I have decided to launch the all new P.W.S.B.K awards. PWSBK (pronounced pushbike ^*1) stands for “People Who Should Be Killed” and as an acronym is rather apt, since all the people nominated should not be allowed to drive anything with more than two wheels!

Let me present the first nominee and outline the position.

Hubby and I go shopping. I am using my wheelchair and need a wide space next to my car door so that I can easily get out of the chair and into the car. For this reason, we park in a disabled car parking space which is extra wide for easy access. Shopping is completed (along with coffee and cake) and we return to the car to find this:



The little runt of a car in the middle has just squeezed into the space that plainly isn't a space! Well, we did not key his car or smash his windows (as much as I wanted to). He is however the first nomination for this award. If you know who he is, please tell him that he is owed a knuckle sandwich…

BTW, if you have any nominations for crappy parking (of any description), please send me the photos. No- I am not publishing my e-mail address for all to see – if you know my e-mail address, great, send them to me – if not, leave me a comment and I’ll get back to you. I don’t think it would be too wise to say – "hey big world wide web – send me photos, any photos……"

^*1 I’m Welsh – of course it’s pronounced like this!

My hairdresser knew my darkest secret!

Not long ago I went to the hairdresser for the first time since my surgery. (I would have gone before but between the very idea of bending my neck backwards over a sink whilst my head is pummelled*¹ combined with the fact that up until then I felt like sh*t made me decide that I couldn’t face it.)

Anyway, my last haircut before surgery was not done by my regular ‘girl’ (I have no idea why they are all called girls, since some of them are ancient, but there you go) – instead the boss did it as my ‘girl’ was away. Consequently she didn’t know I was going into hospital and even if she had I probably wouldn’t have told her why. You see, I always tried to stand to make it look like I didn’t have any curves (apart from proper womanly ones of course) - I have no idea why I wanted to hide it, it’s not like I was ashamed that my back had gone off in its own direction (literally) but maybe I just wanted to look a bit more like a magazine model. Yep, me, the ex- 4ft 9” (now 4ft 11”) thinks that with enough make-up and the right clothes I could in fact look just like Elle McPherson (not!).

So, I went in for a nice cut and to get rid of my flowing (umm what I actually mean is unruly, greasy and straggly) locks. Now at this point you have to appreciate that I normally have short hair – but not short hair like most women my age. No, I have very short hair, in fact it’s just the kind of short hair that can look exactly like I have had a struggle with a lawnmower (though to be fair I think the lawnmower comes off worse) – it’s short and spiky (as long as I get it cut often enough) and sometimes I dye it with the brightest shade I have the courage to do. The Christmas before last I had lots of very red streaks – not auburn or ginger – really red red! I loved it and called it my Christmas hair – others were not so impressed (friends, mother etc) – hubby was cool about it, but then he usually is (he’s very laid back is hubby..). Anyway, at the risk of digressing some more, I left the hairdressers the same colour that I went in with and with not much cutting going on either! My ‘girl’ said “You should grow it, its over your ears now and it seems a waste – just think if it was long we could do all sorts of exciting things with it” – “Like cut it off?” I asked? Anyway, long story short, she won - so I am growing it to a length which most people seem to regard as short hair. In fact, now I’m a bit more used to it, I think I like it and there’s more of it to put streaks in too – seems a waste to spend all that money on just dying 2” of hair when you can do 5” for the same money after all!
Anyway, I have digressed enough about my hair; this was supposed to be about the hairdresser! I got there, walked in (with my two sticks) and sat down to have my hair washed. A conversation ensued:

My ‘girl’: ’“I haven’t seen you for ages”
Me: “I’ve been in hospital having an operation”
My ‘girl’: “Oh, did they straighten out your spine then? You look a lot less crooked.”

Rats! She had known all along and I thought I’d kept it hidden so well….

*1. Actually, you don’t get pummelled at our hairdressers, or at least not when J. is there. It’s like an orgasm in a hand basin when he washes your hair – there are ladies who don’t care who does their cutting as long as he does the washing. He even has very old ladies going weak at the knees and asking for him by name. I’m amazed his boyfriend doesn’t get jealous sometimes….

Yippee!!

Well, I had it – my review appointment that is….

It was good news, good news, good news all the way. You are looking at a girl (OK so you can’t actually see me I know) who is now free of restrictions. I can drive (yes, yes yes!), hoover to my heart’s content (just in case I would want to) and get back down the gym and the swimming pool and anything else that takes my fancy. I am to build up slowly and be sensible (hahahahahaha) but within reason I can do anything I want. There was no news on whether I could roller skate but I think I need these to do that and don’t have any in the house.

Anyway, after pitching up at the brand new swanky spinal unit at the hospital, I did all the usual stuff, got asked how I was, showed off my (awesome) scar and went down for x-ray. Wow, that was easier than I am used to! You see, they ask you to stand on both legs equally – now, if you are tipped over to one side as far as I was, all that makes you want to do is fall over sideways! Not so now - I stood up nice and tall and got my new x-ray taken. Here's a great before and after shot:


So, yes, I still have curves (and ones in my spine too) but I am older than most scoliosis patients and had a pretty inflexible spine to start with. In addition, my consultant was keen to get a balance between correction and maintaining as many flexible levels as possible. It is for this reason, he doesn’t want to do the top curve (more good news) unless I have any problems with it in the future – he just said they’d keep a close eye on it. They will also keep an eye on the fact that I now only have one flexible joint left at the base of my spine and that is going to have to do a lot of hard work in the years ahead. I mentioned that I still have a lot of pain in that area (see earlier entries about low grindy pain which I’ve had for years) and he said that he didn’t see that changing. Just for once, I actually got to see the Head Honcho, the Scarlet Pimpernel himself(!) and he was really very nice. Of course, he was very pleased with his own handiwork (not like I’ve had anything to do except heal, after all), then shook my hand, shook hubbies hand and said that he would see me in 3 months time.

So that’s it – isn’t it amazing news?

I shall do the next scoliosis (or should that be ‘post-scoliosis’) update on or around the 8th of July. I will be 5 months post op at that point. Mindless drivel will continue in the meantime….

Tomorrow's the day!

Yeah, I know it's normally today's the day, but tomorrow I have to get up early to leave the house and won't be bothering to update you before I go - sorry!

I bet you're all wondering why the rush to get out of the house, well, tomorrow is my big review appointment where they dash my hopes of driving again... No, seriously it's where they get to do my next 'big' check and let me know how many of my restrictions will be lifted. I'll let you know how it goes (probably on Friday 23rd).

Oddly, after all the phoning to demand an appointment, they sent me a letter (that wasn't odd, the next bit was), followed up with another letter for a second appointment in a months time. Now, I am sure I don't need two appointments 1 month apart, but I guess I have slipped through the system (again!). I have decided not to phone them and advise them of their mistakes just in case I get the BML again (eek!) and that she tells me tomorrows appointment is off. I have also decided not to call them just in case the second letter was supposed to contain those magic lines "due to circumstances beyond our control we have cancelled your appointment for blah and replaced it with this one blah!.."^*1. I figure that once I am there, they will have to see me, like it or not - after all, the sight of a grown woman lying kicking and screaming on the floor is likely to upset the rest of the patients after all!

Ah yes, and finally, as I'm sure you are all just dying to know and I will be overloaded with comments if I don't tell you....the builders did actually finish yesterday; they did a very nice job and cleared up after themselves. I am happy, hubby was happy when he came home from work and the cats are happy that it's all gone quiet again. I just wish everything else in life could be solved so simply.........

*1 ...and I've had a few of those I can tell you

Finishing today?

I have been promised that today the builders will be leaving. I just hope they finish the work first. Seriously they are getting on well today and everything seems to be taking shape – dunno why they have to work in such a mess, but it’s their mess so I’m not getting involved as long as they clear it up after themselves. (Eeek - don't I sound like my mother!!^*1) What they have finished looks really good so I’m not questioning the quality of their work at all – just their timekeeping….

Anyway, the boss came to the door this morning to ask how I was going to pay, cash or cheque. Oh good question, I thought, I always keep over a thousand pounds in used fivers stuck in my back pocket – I was wondering why it was so difficult to sit down…

Methinks the sarcasm would be lost on him so I said “Cheque, does it make a difference?” (thinking there might be a discount for cash or something). Nope he said – no difference at all - he just wanted to know one way or the other. I wondered though – maybe he too was wondering how he would be able to sit down with that many used fivers in his back pocket - might make it difficult to drive - after all, his legs aren't that long....

^*1 Note to self - must stop that....

Me and my big keyboard

I just knew that publishing stuff on the big ole World Wide Web that says the building work is going well will just put the kybosh on it. That is whatever a kybosh is – I mean, what a weird word! Aha ….. (simple Google search later)…. so, this is the truth behind it!

Anyway, in builder speak, I have discovered that getting it finished by the weekend does NOT mean they will work on a Saturday to do so. I’m actually now wondering which weekend they are talking about….

Good news is that the phone ‘fixed itself’ (after a bit of wire wiggling) – don’t think the damage to the drain will be fixed by a bit of wiggling tho’…

Oh yes, and even though I know that my domestic/building arrangements are of no interest to you at all, I shall continue with them just in case I need to ‘name and shame’ all those involved …

It’s all go you know…

Work is now going on apace at the back of the house, the front of the house and round the side – in fact, the only place there doesn’t seem to be any work going on is on the other side – but considering we are attached at that side I’m almost relieved! To make up for lost time, I had 7 fine young men arrive on the doorstep with the ‘main man’. There they were, shirts stripped off and glistening sweaty in the sunshine - if I wasn’t old enough to be their mum, I’d have snapped them up in a heartbeat if they’d have stopped working for a minute – but they didn’t! They got here early and pretty soon were all breaking and shovelling concrete as if their lives depended on it
- at one point the whole house was shaking on its foundations and I could settle to nothing except e-mailing some best buddies for reassurance and phoning hubby for more of the same. I did have some reason to worry as one of the builders who gave us a quote reckoned that section of the concrete they were ripping up hid a nasty surprise, a void, old drains or possibly dead bodies – but he was wrong – it was just a slab in an odd place and of an odd thickness. Well, not any more it isn’t – now, it’s gone altogether and the new path around the side is already down in its place. Next step is the patio and front path – and although I am temporarily without a phone (the cable having mysteriously been disturbed), at this rate, with these ‘supermen’ on the job, it should be done at the weekend just as predicted – it had better just be at the original price!

How do you breed this type of builder?

We need some work done on our patio and side path. We don’t have a ‘pet builder’ so I did what you are told is the right thing – picked someone who was a member of a trade federation, went for the mid priced quote and went with my gut instinct on the manner and professionalism of the guys who came out. I picked one and he was due to start on Monday. So, on the Monday morning 2 guys turned up and said that they were the sub-contractors for the job (all fine and dandy so far!). After much sucking air in over teeth at the work (having not seen the site before) they started digging and breaking up concrete and all was hunky dory until Tuesday. Tuesday they sucked in lots more air in over their teeth and said the job couldn’t be done for the money. So….. “What,” I asked “do you want me to do about it?” – “Well,” they said “we don’t know, we’re just not happy and this bit alone will cost £300-400. We want to do a proper job but at this rate we will be working for (thrusts hand into pocket and pulls out a handful of small change) – this!” – he says dramatically!!!

Fine, say I, but that’s not my problem – my contract was with the original builder – you should speak to him. “We have”, they said “and he says it can be done for the money, but we want to do a proper job” (I think trying to suggest that I wouldn’t get a ‘proper’ job unless they did it themselves). “That’s it”, I said, “I’m off to phone the builder”. This I did and he told me that I shouldn’t have to have this kind of hassle and that would call them and let them know that they were off the job. Seconds later, a mobile rang somewhere outside – there was a heated discussion and a certain amount of yelling and then lots of clanging as tools were hurled into the wheelbarrow – and then - they went!

A few minutes later my builder rang asking if I was in and followed it up with a visit less than half an hour later. “I’ll start with my own boys tomorrow – same job, original price, don’t you worry about a thing”. Just keep your fingers crossed…..

Good news (I think….)

I have just got back from physio and I have been discharged – “never darken my door again”, she said - or something like that; it might have been "come back if you have any problems" – but hey, they’re almost the same – it’s easy to get confused…

Anyway, in a nutshell she is really pleased with my progress and feels that we have reached a point about as far as we are going to get together. She feels that anything else we could do would just be “trying to get back nerves that you haven’t got” (quote unquote!). She has a point too! I have instructions to carry on walking with the two sticks when outside, since my posture and walking ability is vastly improved with the extra feedback that I get through my hands. I have no doubt that it not only makes me faster, but also much safer! (No more grabbing hold of complete strangers for me as I keel over backwards!) I have also had instructions to use the wheelchair for anything involving distance and not to be stubborn about it – partly because if I am to walk I am supposed to do so properly. If I am tired or in pain then I will not walk well so I am to be a good girl (like always, of course, what did you think?!) . At least it gives me a nice comfy chair in which to have a rest (not that you get a lot of rest when your wheelchair doesn’t have any handles!). If I wish to progress to one stick for short distances then I am allowed – especially for practical things like carrying stuff – but – I must use it in my left hand – eeek! That’ll take some getting used to! There’s a practical reason though – I still have a right hand curve in my spine so don’t want to end up leaning into it and affecting my unfused section, now do I?

Apart from that, I am to continue with all the excercises which help my balance and stuff. More than that, I may have to get extra specialist physio in particular areas, but for now, her work is done here…..

I keep looking at that picture

Do you know, ever since I posted my last update, I keep looking at those before and after photos. I really can’t believe that I was stood up as straight as I could in each one. It looks so artificial to be leaning over in the one and also to be so straight upright in the other. It’s hard to believe that either of them is me! What’s even odder is that when I first decided to have the operation, I seemed to be the only person who wasn’t completely convinced that I needed it. All my friends were, my family was, hubby seemed to be and even the cats blinked at me meaningfully when I asked them the question! Now, looking at those photos, I can see exactly why they were all convinced and I’m just surprised I couldn’t see it myself. I mean, sure, when I looked in the mirror I knew I was crooked, but I just didn’t know how far off ‘normal’ I was. Of course now, when everyone else thinks I am straight, I can look in the mirror and easily see that I still have 30something curves in my spine – but that’s fine, after all, I'm just being picky –and I mean just look at those photos……

4 months today.....

Wow! Can you believe that! In some ways, this last 4 months has been the whizziest time ever and in others it seems to have taken forever!

Anyway, to the business of catching up with things – where do I start? I think I’ll work from the top down just to be interesting so here we go.

My popping neck / top of spine is still gently popping – it doesn’t hurt at all and I believe it to be a continual realigning of my neck as it spent so many years tipped to one side just so that I could look at the horizon in a straight line. In fact, when I left hospital I was still putting it on one side just ‘cos that was what I was used to, even though it made the horizon all squiffy! I couldn’t seem to find a happy medium either – I’d realise that I was tilting it, so I’d tilt it the other way and then it would still be wrong. The world didn’t half look wierd for a bit! You will be pleased to know that I now ‘have my head on straight’ which is a big improvement!

Still working down, my scar is really nicely healed. The pink is starting to fade out of it already (I know, I’ve been surprised too!) – the only thing wrong with it is a little wide bit under my arm – but it’s nicely hidden by the bra strap so that’s OK too! The chest drain scar – despite the infection - is also starting to fade. Some of the feeling is coming back around the scar but the nerves lost in my thigh are still doing nothing – it’s very odd scratching your leg when you can’t feel it! (Very philosophical stuff comes to mind here – you can see yourself scratching but have no idea if your leg is really there or if you’re in bed asleep and dreaming your leg isn’t there – or something or other.....)!
Pain from around the scar area is OK but where they took my ribs out still gets pretty sore – I call it ‘the phantom rib’ as I have heard stories about people keeping feeling in their missing bits of anatomy after amputation etc. Never mind the phantom rib, sometimes its more like the phantom raspberry blower in that the pain will sneak up on me and stab me one before running away!. (You just don’t want to be in a car and go over a big dip, I can tell you!) The preggo belly is gone (hurrah!) but I still have some swelling around my side. I was told that this was fluid and could take months to go – looks like they’re right. If I do too much it grows which is no fun at all….unless you’re some kind of a sadist of course…

Anyway, back pain is now mostly limited to the bottom of my back (as long as I don’t do too many stupid things) and that bit of my pain is just the same as before surgery which is a bummer. I was really hoping for a magic wand to put everything right in one go, but it looks like sprinklings of fairy dust didn’t quite hit that bit. Still, on the bright side I am in much less pain from muscle spasms than before surgery (touch wood etc) and I’m very happy to settle for the great improvement in pain that I seem to have got. On the subject of pain, I am still on some pills – the nerve pain pills are still at full strength (sigh!) but I am down to 3 or 4 a day of the others. Its fine – after all, I’m still only at 4 months so I think I’m about where my surgeon expected me to be.

Speaking of improvements, check this out for a picture!

It's almost unbelievable isn't it????!!!!!^*1

As to yet more improvements, my walking is getting better all the time. I’m still walking with two sticks outside (safety first) but can get around with one (or none sometimes) in the house. I actually think in many ways my walking is way better than it was before surgery – then I used to lurch from side to side and now I feel like I am positively gliding around – you could almost put a book on my head as I do so (well, almost!). I think it’s really incredible! I am using the wheelchair for long trips outside (or where there would be a lot of standing) and I am going to be sensible over my future use of it. It has been an incredibly enabling tool for me recently and has allowed me to do things that I haven’t been able to do for many years.

I can now do loads of things around the house from getting dressed without my helping hand (although there is still a large amount of fishing for feet off the edge of the bed) to doing a large amount of the cooking (which my physio reckons is really good for me since I can grab hold of the kitchen worktop if I start to fall over!) My physio is really pleased with my progress so I think all in all everything is going well. I do still have all my restrictions in place (no swimming lifting bending driving etc etc) and the no driving is starting to pall a bit now. What am I saying – it sucks!!!! I can’t wait to get behind the wheel again (see, I knew I’d miss it!) – especially since one of the real downsides is that hubby has to give up most of a day every weekend just running me around or running errands for me – I bet he can’t wait for me to be able to drive either. Hubby is still being great and doing all the household stuff – some of the fairies have come back to help out in some small way but he’s doing the lion’s share still. So – thanks hubby!!!

Well, think that’s about it for an update – there’ll be more after the 22nd June when I next see my surgeon and find out what his next evil plans are for me……..

^*1 Yes - I really was standing as straight as I could for both the photos!!

Just a few days more…

Just a couple of days to go and I will be 4 months post op and you can all have an exciting update and some spiffy pictures…..

The mammoth posting ....added to....

A few days ago I had a mammoth posting session about our interesting trip home after a weekend away but I did forget to mention something else weird that happened.

Not long before the ‘big jam’ we had to go through a section of road works – the inside lane of the motorway was coned off and there was a 50 limit in the remaining two lanes. Well, hubby drove along, keeping strictly to the speed limit and pulled out to overtake a vehicle that was indicating left and slowing down. The guy stopped the car in the middle of the inside lane (the left one of the two open ones), got out of his car and walked through the cones to the hard shoulder. It was at this point that he got his wanger out and started watering the sparse grass that grows at the roadside (no doubt even sparser now). He left his car, with no hazard lights and just his indicators on, completely stopped, stationary, not moving, sitting as a target for unsuspecting twonks who aren’t paying attention, on the motorway. What kind of a wazzock does that – even if he was desperate he could have eased his way through the cones to pull off – they ain’t concrete after all. I’m wondering if he was in some way related to the mad alien bag lady ………..

<------distant relations----->

Linking to the world….

I am going to start adding a few non-scoliosis/back links in the other links section. They are blogs that I follow (or at least dip into from time to time). The first two I am adding are about as far from each other in terms of content as they could be but there you go – I know the people that write them and they’re not quite the same as each other either – I mean one of them is taller than the other to start with (and oh yes, don’t be clever, of course they are both taller than me!)

Anyway, “Getting the Words Out” is by a budding new author who writes excellent stuff – historical, but there you go – learn something while you read a novel, it might help your brain tick over! It contains links through to their own web page too, where you can find details about the latest publication and (most importantly) where you will be able to buy it. The second one is “50+ and proud of it”. Allegedly this is about being an executor of a will and how to deal with all the red tape that goes with it. Secretly I think it’s just a way to vent and provide a outlet for this guy’s dry wit – well, it amuses me anyway….

It’s a police conspiracy I tell you….

We went away last weekend to see my best friend who has been poorly. It was great to see her and to catch up although, as usual, our time together was much too short. I mean, how can you say what you want to (which would take at least a fortnight) in just a couple of days…anyway, she’s going to be having some time off work so we have promised each other some great girly days out and a weekend away in a foreign city trying to pick up some hunky continentals (honest hubbies, we’re only joking!). I bet you’re wondering now where the police conspiracy comes in – are the police conspiring to get us together, or to keep us apart even (which would make much more sense, given the way we behave when we’re together) – nope none of that, it just had to do with our journey home….

We (foolishly) picked a bank holiday weekend to get together – it all made perfect sense when we planned it – hubby with time off, me apparently recovering well from my op and things just slotting into place reasonably neatly around hospital appointments and the like. We decided not to travel on Friday night (too much bank holiday traffic we thought) so headed off on Saturday morning. The first interesting (hah!) thing happened on the one stop we had to make. I needed to pick up an invoice from a shop but we managed to arrive 5 minutes after the most irritating man in the world. He wasn’t just annoying, he was worse than me on getting off the point and managed to occupy 2 shop assistants and the manager whilst he whittered and rabbitted for a whole hour about stuff that I found increasingly annoying. (An hour on a hard chair does that to you if you have a bad back and need to be somewhere else AND all you came in for is a piece of paper!) Eventually I got my invoice and we got in the car and headed for England in lovely May sunshine and light traffic (actually, I’m lying here on both counts – it was heavy traffic and driving rain but the world always seems much nicer when you’re off to visit a friend!). I was highly amused at car full after car full of parents with small children in the back, several bikes (often one pink with stringy bits hanging limply off the handlebars in the rain) perched over the rear windows and either towing a caravan or with roof racks piled high with (now very soggy) stuff for their lovely weekend away (in the rain) by the seaside. Oh gosh, I remember weekends like that from when I was a kid, wet car, wet dog, wet tent and plenty of joy and good cheer to go round! (Sarcasm fully intended here).

But, back to the police – on the journey home. Sorry to disappoint you – but there were no police on the way there – just speed cameras (and hubby slowed down for every one – good man!)! We headed back late Sunday (to avoid bank holiday Monday traffic) and about halfway home saw the big information signs saying that the motorway was closed at Junction 17 with queues after 16. That was it – out with the map and we left the motorway at 16 taking an A road that runs parallel to the motorway though a small town. We headed into the town to discover temporary traffic lights at the high street with a “road closed no entry ahead” – a diversion indicated turning right – which we did. We followed the road round only to discover that we were in Sainsbury’s car park (a dead end) and that 4 cars, 2 MPV’s, a Range-rover and a large coach full of holidaymakers had followed us! (Foolish people – didn’t they know we were lost?) So, we turned around (as did our convoyGB) and went back the way we came heading back towards the motorway as there were only 2 roads in town (the one that was shut and the one to Sainsbury’s car park). Now we were heading in this direction, we could see diversion signs and – guess what – they took us to the motorway. Aaaargh! We decided to get back onto the motorway (fresh out of other choices) and take our chances. Luckily it was plain sailing all the way to J17 where we headed for the exit. Others were not so sensible and J17 had turned into a scene from hell – the air was full of the smell of burning rubber and the sounds of squealing brakes and loud bangs as all those people who couldn’t read*¹ hurtled down the outside lane and stopped within inches (or not – hence the bangs) of the car in front. Interestingly (for them) and hilarious (for us) they were just yards past the junction and therefore STUCK! Serves ‘em right for not paying attention! Gawd knows why the police didn’t cone off the motorway to stop that happening, but they didn’t, and it was ‘total gridlock mon’ *² as far as the eye could see. Well, we got off the motorway without incident and decided to ignore the direction the diversion signs pointed as that looked gridlocked too. Some other people (hopefully) with maps headed off in the same direction as us (including part of our earlier convoy I think) and we crawled up the road away from the motorway in a long queue of traffic until I had a flash of inspiration (could have been impatience actually as I was getting quite cheesed and painful by this time
) and decided to chance the country lanes. It was all going really well, when we came across a sign- it said - “road closed no entry ahead” and (deja vue here) a diversion indicated turning right! Thankfully we were out in the country so they hadn’t managed to cut off our escape route by building Sainsbury’s car park and we managed (despite running out of diversion signs) to negotiate our way through the lanes and back to the motorway past the section that was closed.

I fell to wondering (as I do) on the remainder of the journey - how did all that happen – a Bank Holiday on half term with the heaviest traffic of the year and there were more road closed signs and diversions than I’ve ever seen n my life. Well, I think I know the answer – it’s definitely a police conspiracy. I think, sometime around last Thursday, a bunch of policemen had an evening out on the pop^*3 and hatched a plan for closing as many routes as they could with road closed signs between the east and west of the country. They then drove around planting as many diversion signs as they could lay their hands on and used a series of random dice rolls to decide which junctions they would go on and in which direction they would point. They could then send up their ‘eye in the sky’ to transmit telly pictures back to their sports and social club for weeks and weeks worth of entertainment. Of course, I have no proof yet, but it’s only a matter of time until I unearth the plans somewhere on the Internet…..

^*1 Of course, I am just assuming they can’t read – they may of course be blind and their seeing eye dog (please give generously) is doing the steering and he can’t read, or maybe they’re aliens who are just trying to blend in by driving cars (and can only read Vogon^*4 or something)…..anyway you get the idea ….
^*2 is that one of the best ads ever??
^*3 Beer
^*4 Great Poetry – you should try it….here