Proper Snow

Oxford radio have just announced that all hospitals are only operating an 'emergency only' policy... outpatients must remain 'out'. No chance of a scan today then?

I awoke to the dark, dull and silent atmosphere... no cars along the lane; no rain on the now blacked-out skylights and two cats sat either side of me, staring at me as if telepathically they were asking me to wake up and feed them. The ache just under my right ribcage worse this morning, but hey ho, I'm getting used to it now.

My car is safely tucked away in the garage, while my neighbour's car and large white van are covered in about eight inches of snow along with everything else for miles around. I watched parochial news featuring older people saying that this is nothing compared to the forties! Of course it isn't... we've all been told many times that things were better, worse, bigger, smaller or harder back then. But then, I really don't mind the snow! I have enough food to keep me going for several weeks and plenty of wood in the woodstore and candles in the cupboard. It's just that if the pain in my upper abdomen gets worse and I generally go downhill, it will have to be a helicopter job with a hoist!

As for the symptoms, perhaps anyone out there in the blogosphere can help out three so far, confused doctors?? I have an intolerance to wheat/gluten... maybe, and I've been told in the past that I have stress-related IBS. Recent illness began in early November with sudden attacks of feeling as if I was on fire, with outbreaks of sweat on body and head... no, not menopausal flushes! I've briefly had them in the past and it is a different kind of heatwave! I'm constantly tired, pale, worn out and I'm having mouth ulcers and the corners of my mouth become sore. So, I have increased my vitamin B, C and D and am eating all the right foods, including my five or seven a day!

My diagnosis? I think I have either a severe intolerance or allergy to wheat/gluten. I think my gall bladder is enlarged (and was confirmed by examination at Doc's). All blood and urine tests have ruled out any really bad nasties (or so the Doctors say). So I have now stopped eating and drinking anything that may have trace elements of wheat or gluten. This is so hard, as I've just discovered that the Cappucino coffee sachets that I have continued to drink, have wheat in them... no wonder I don't seem to be getting any better! However, I could have gall stones... anyone know what the symptoms are?

Thank you for listening to my boring symptoms. I hope everyone out there is healthy and happy - or will be for 2010. Best wishes for the year ahead.

Time flies... sometimes

This was Pebble at approximately ten weeks... now he is over two years old and tall, long and weighs about 5 and a half kg. He gets along okay with Banjo who is well over 11 years old and they tolerate each other; sometimes they chase each other and Banjo will try and wash Pebble... for all of 30 seconds, when he dashes off or tries to rough and tumble with her. This results in some hissing from Banjo. They don't sleep together, but will lie alongside each other in front of the log fire and only when I am with them.

I don't know how Charlie is getting on in my daughter's household... I have been busy seeing GPs about some possible Gall Stone trouble! Not funny and very painful. Now I have to go for a scan. I'm so glad I have completed my Will!

When I looked back at the pictures of my two cats I realised just how quickly the last two years have gone by. It's now four years and three months since he died... sometimes it seems like yesterday - sometimes it seems a lifetime away. Time either stands still when you want it to move, or it flies when you forget to count the days.

Charlie

Well, this is the latest picture of my daughter's new addition to the family... Charlie! About one year old, overfed, never been allowed to play and still trying to 'fit in' with a household of two adults, two boys and an existing male cat who every now and then, attacks him... it's a cat territorial thing!

He is, however, so very affectionate and loves to climb on my lap, and snuggle in to the crook of my arm, turn over and lie with his legs in the air, purring while I stroke him.

However, Charlie has a little habit that's causing my daughter to be annoyed... namely he pees in the hall instead of going outside. Now my daughter wanted to rub his nose in the pee, thinking this would deter him. I explained that you only usually do that to puppies, certainly not cats! It's a sign that he is completely 'lost' in a house with an existing male cat and is trying hard to establish himself... with pee.

It's a shame my feet are in the background! Along with a 'Burford Garden Centre' shopping bag!

Just like old times

Before my lovely man became ill, part of my consultancy job with a Constabulary was to travel to different locations, interview, observe, gather information, evaluate then write a report and present the findings for different projects... a job I loved doing, because I met lots of interesting people and learnt a lot. So, now I find myself travelling to various villages where they've set up their own community shop; I interview, observe, gather information, evaluate, collate and report, ready to set up our own village shop... I love it! At last, I'm doing something useful and meeting lots of people in the process!

As a footnote to the sad ending of little Bubu (two posts earlier), my daughter has taken in another unwanted young cat called 'Charlie'. His owner didn't want him any more and deposited him at the Veterinary clinic where daughter Number four works. Charlie is short and round and very affectionate and unlike Bubu, is far from emaciated, but, he now has a new home and a family that loves him.

Reflections

I really love Autumn and Spring... mostly Spring, because it heralds the start of something new, fresh, and light and green. Autumn will always remind me of the death of my lovely man... the golden light on the green lawn and the dahlias bobbing in the gentle breeze. It was his favourite time of the year, and the house he'd built years before had been called 'September Cottage'. How I long now for a new house of my own... a new beginning... apart and separate from all the trauma and grief of the past four years!

To that end, I have now decorated all the interior of the house... the house that conforms to all the disability regulations... I just have to repaint the outside... the postman told me the other day that 'the front door needs a coat of paint'... thank you Postie, but don't you have other pressing job-related issues to worry about?

I am on a Steering Group to try and establish a new village community shop and Post Office as the old one is closing down... the owner wants to retire somewhere 'oop north'. I am trying to help, but one half of me is already moving mind, body and soul, as well as house and home to another location... one that is away from neighbours who terrorise cats, away from umpteen covenants on the house that restrict me from just about everything, away from teenage boys who destroy my security lamps, pear tree and stream with their thoughtless antics.

I can't seem to get a job, no matter how hard I try and despite leaving out my date of birth. I have given up trying to find a 'nice, good' man still with his own teeth and hair... who needs em? I have now learnt to live without male company, male protection or attention and have resigned myself to the status quo.

Once Christmas is over with and the outside of the house is painted, I shall seek a valuation and start looking in earnest for another property that I can call my own... one without memories and one where I can feel safe, alone and can look after my cats, paint, decorate and garden landscape to my heart's content. I just need a bit of extra money....!

Upon reflection, what does any of it matter? I exist fairly well. It could be a whole lot worse!

KBO

I'm now wearing my third temporary tooth veneer... long story...; have just had stitches out on a back molar that is being prepared for something 'big'; about to go back to the hairdresser - highlights were non-existent but cost me a lot; a skirt I'd ordered doesn't seem to appear from M&S...

While annoying, none of this is life-threatening, just a sad indictment of today's consumer society and lack of something... be it organisation skills, shop training, lack of listening skills?? Whatever the cause, I now come to expect these things whenever I venture out to buy something.

So, what joy to have my son-in-law come over immediately to fix my new surround-sound system that was buggered up somehow during last week's half term break!

Having watched the drama 'Into the Storm' recreating Churchill's time in office during WWII, I have decided to adopt one of his mantras: Keep Buggering On... KBO! So apt in this current climate. And 'Bugger' is a word I've always loved using... so quintessentially British!

KBO - everyone!

Three weeks

To drive thirty miles to look after little BuBu is no hardship; nor is it any trouble to wash her, help her out into the garden where she obligingly 'goes'. Nor is it any hassle to stroke her under her emaciated chin, eliciting little purrs of delight while she lies on the sofa, struggling with the debilitating effects of malnutrition, neglect and abandonment. Each day she gains just a little more flesh on her fragile small bones and her spine no longer sticks out like a ridge of distant mountains.

Three weeks of warmth, food, and much love couldn't stop her body's slow disintegration into diabetes, complete blindness and deafness and a confused state of mind. On Tuesday morning, my daughter brought BuBu into bed with her where she lay across my daughter's neck and could feel her pulse and hence began to purr. BuBu could no longer keep down any food and could'nt seem to go to the loo any more. The Vet gave her verdict and hence her end. Little BuBu went into an enforced sleep... she was only about 18 months' old. In three short weeks, she had captured all our hearts.

I would really like to meet her former owner who left her flat and her kitten behind!