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For the past 12 moths or so, I have been getting slowly less active (physically) and able as well as suffering severe shoulder pain resulting in me visiting a chiropractor and asking a forum consisting of people i genuinely consider friends in real life for suggestions, Our very own Yves Geza came up with this...
Japanese geisha girls
Or maybe you'll be able to find some sort of unsubtle Polish [?] equivalent in a massage parlour in town.
Now the gist of the tale.
Ended up using a delightfull collection of Fillipino (?sp.) and other ladies dressed in assorted shades of NHS blue.
Turns out that the problem was neurological rather than physical...
A few other problems turned up and I was referred to see a neurologist, who booked me in for an MRI scan, then told me that I had a tumour pressing on my brane (deliberate typo) and an ambulance (no blues and 2s but my first ride in one) whisked me down the A38 to Plymouth, Derriford Hospital in preparation for the removal of my new (or maybe not so new) lodger, Mr Meningioma.
Surgery was arranged for the Thursday and the team picked my brane (or, more accurately Mr M.). I Came round (sort of) in the ICU, where I stayed for a while until a space could be found back on Moorgate ward, where I spent the next 5 or 6 days in the hands of the genuinely fantastic nursing staff.
As soon as I had awakenned from the anaesthetic, I could tell that there was an improvement in many aspects of how I felt and could move, as well as feeling less confuzzled and what I had put down to weakness (cat turtling [stranding me on my back] me) seems to be a thing of the past.
All in all, not the most pleasant of experiences but made bearable by a ward staff who are truly the most caring individuals I have ever (or COULD ever) met.
Most importantly, I am mended. They can't guarantee they got evey last fragment (the guarantee would necessitate the removal of the whole head and I wouldn't sign the consent form for that) but it's not a rampant (or malignant [malevelant maybe]).
So, a huge thank you to the NHS, especially Mr N D Haden and his team of surgeons as well as Moorgate ward (coincidentally, where Mum had spent a short while after her sub-arachnoid haemorrhage) and even the domestic staff who were without exception efficient and cheerful.
But, MOST of all, thank you to my darling wife, who didn't miss a single day, either making the treck down the A38 or staying in a very handy Travellodge just up the road in Plymouth. It helped that the weather has been reasonable almost every day and that her little blue car (Mx5, again from our very own YG) is such a joy to drive (although at ~ 25MPG and a 100 mile or so round trip, it approached £100 per diem in fuel.)
I think I have a phoneto of my facial bruising somewhere which I shall put in my gallery when I find it - it looked and felt like I had been 10 rounds with Ali in his prime but it's fading fast. Still got a red line over my forehead which smarts a bit but it'll heal.
In other news, I seem to have dropped something - from 21 stones (all but the shouting) to 17 st 10 lbs - and I'm pretty sure Mr M wasn't that heavy. All down to eating sensibly - exercise hasn't really been an option for months.
Now, I am off to spend some money - I seem to have accrued a surplus in the past few years and I'm feeling a little mortal so may as well get the benefit of the stuff while I'm still young enough to enjoy it.
The most frustrating aspect (that's hit me so far) about the experience is that I shall have to take Phenytoin (an anti epileptic) for 3/12 months and because of its function more than its effects, driving isn't an option for me until the DVLA tell me I can. Not too bad since there's a bus stop at the top of the road but still, I now have energy and a zest for life and want to get out snapping in the autumn.
Sorry for using this place as a sort of blog - I shall now copy it and paste it on TP, where you'll probably see it before spotting it here!
To quote a line from Queen's Flash,
Gordon's Alive!
Japanese geisha girls
Or maybe you'll be able to find some sort of unsubtle Polish [?] equivalent in a massage parlour in town.
Now the gist of the tale.
Ended up using a delightfull collection of Fillipino (?sp.) and other ladies dressed in assorted shades of NHS blue.
Turns out that the problem was neurological rather than physical...
A few other problems turned up and I was referred to see a neurologist, who booked me in for an MRI scan, then told me that I had a tumour pressing on my brane (deliberate typo) and an ambulance (no blues and 2s but my first ride in one) whisked me down the A38 to Plymouth, Derriford Hospital in preparation for the removal of my new (or maybe not so new) lodger, Mr Meningioma.
Surgery was arranged for the Thursday and the team picked my brane (or, more accurately Mr M.). I Came round (sort of) in the ICU, where I stayed for a while until a space could be found back on Moorgate ward, where I spent the next 5 or 6 days in the hands of the genuinely fantastic nursing staff.
As soon as I had awakenned from the anaesthetic, I could tell that there was an improvement in many aspects of how I felt and could move, as well as feeling less confuzzled and what I had put down to weakness (cat turtling [stranding me on my back] me) seems to be a thing of the past.
All in all, not the most pleasant of experiences but made bearable by a ward staff who are truly the most caring individuals I have ever (or COULD ever) met.
Most importantly, I am mended. They can't guarantee they got evey last fragment (the guarantee would necessitate the removal of the whole head and I wouldn't sign the consent form for that) but it's not a rampant (or malignant [malevelant maybe]).
So, a huge thank you to the NHS, especially Mr N D Haden and his team of surgeons as well as Moorgate ward (coincidentally, where Mum had spent a short while after her sub-arachnoid haemorrhage) and even the domestic staff who were without exception efficient and cheerful.
But, MOST of all, thank you to my darling wife, who didn't miss a single day, either making the treck down the A38 or staying in a very handy Travellodge just up the road in Plymouth. It helped that the weather has been reasonable almost every day and that her little blue car (Mx5, again from our very own YG) is such a joy to drive (although at ~ 25MPG and a 100 mile or so round trip, it approached £100 per diem in fuel.)
I think I have a phoneto of my facial bruising somewhere which I shall put in my gallery when I find it - it looked and felt like I had been 10 rounds with Ali in his prime but it's fading fast. Still got a red line over my forehead which smarts a bit but it'll heal.
In other news, I seem to have dropped something - from 21 stones (all but the shouting) to 17 st 10 lbs - and I'm pretty sure Mr M wasn't that heavy. All down to eating sensibly - exercise hasn't really been an option for months.
Now, I am off to spend some money - I seem to have accrued a surplus in the past few years and I'm feeling a little mortal so may as well get the benefit of the stuff while I'm still young enough to enjoy it.
The most frustrating aspect (that's hit me so far) about the experience is that I shall have to take Phenytoin (an anti epileptic) for 3/12 months and because of its function more than its effects, driving isn't an option for me until the DVLA tell me I can. Not too bad since there's a bus stop at the top of the road but still, I now have energy and a zest for life and want to get out snapping in the autumn.
Sorry for using this place as a sort of blog - I shall now copy it and paste it on TP, where you'll probably see it before spotting it here!
To quote a line from Queen's Flash,
Gordon's Alive!
We will be down in October, polish the lenses, the car is big and will be full of go go juice, ready to enjoy life 
So glad you are on the mend though, you will be beating me up that flamin path at Tintagel next time 
(eventually) 
