Born June 1st 1962


The Prof likes to treat me on my birthday, but I have to be firm that we do things I want to do
rather than things HE wants to do
Shopping is NOT my idea of fun
Anyhow tomorrow we are going to Liverpool tomorrow! 
I have insisted that we go and see the latest Juliet Binoche arty movie ( only showing over the border)
( he's agreed through gritted teeth)
then we will have a bite to eat, 
After that I know we will have a mooch around John Lewis ( ok you HAVE  to compromise don't you?)
Tomorrow night we will go and see my twin sister with a cake!
Fifty fucking three! 
I'll be half a century old plus three
Hey, f&cking Ho!


Bells In The Night


After I qualified as a staff nurse in mental health' I got a job in a prestigious psychiatric hospital in North Yorkshire. The hospital had only seven wards which were all  situated within a beautiful Regency style building in it's own grounds. The wards were carpeted and sympathetically decorated in a period style and  their day rooms filled with comfortable sofas and occasional furniture.
It was a pleasant place in which to work.
I was placed on the mother and baby unit , where seriously ill post partum women and their offspring were admitted for treatment, but most of the other wards catered for acutely mentally ill patients, patients with cognitive impairments and people suffering severe epilepsy..
Staffing generally was very good , but when there was an emergency situation on a ward then an alarm bell would sound and each ward would send a " runner" to help with whatever problem was afoot. No wards were ever locked.
I was telling some of the junior staff this story last night whilst on a break, as a sort of lesson of how Intensive Care is one of the few places in nursing that is probably safest from assault and injury ....things in the early 1980s could be very different!
I remember one night at the hospital when  at around 4am the alarm bell sounded. I was one of five nurses  who responded to the call,
The emergency was on the epilepsy assessment ward , a ward staffed by both general and mental health nurses. On duty were three nurses. A heavily pregnant girl, a young staff nurse just out  of training and an experienced male staff nurse. All three had been sitting in what was essentially a glass box which overlooked the dormitory of patients on two sides.
Out of no where, a powerfully built male patient had suddenly become agitated and  very confused and had hurled himself at the windows of the nurses station. He shattered  the glass with his body, and like an animal he went for the nurses inside. The male nurse hit the emergency buzzer then bolted out of the office to get help, but as he ran, the office door bounced shut , locking the two women inside. The pregnant nurse, with great presence of mind clambered over a desk and jumped through a window into the grounds to safety but unfortunately the patient caught hold of the young female staff nurse before she could flee.
By the time we arrived on the scene a couple of minutes later, the patient had fractured her jaw and had broken her arm as well as biting her badly on the side of the face.
This was the only time , I have been truly frightened at work Over the years I have been personally abused many times by patients and relatives alike. I have been screamed at, shouted at, spat at and in one case threatened with a broken teapot! but this situation with a brain damaged patient and a young helpless staffnuse still lingers long in the mind.
A scary story to share with a group of nurses in the wee small hours of the morning eh?

Guilt



I've just had a dream that I was the nimble girl
The only difference was that I had three balloons!
Hey ho
( i missed my first fat club weigh in today because I'm in between night shifts)

Two Scotch Eggs in my Underpants

This is a postscript to this morning's post.
I got up from a deep sleep at 4.30pm
and looked like the wreck of the Hesperus when I led the sleepy dogs down the
stairs.
Through the window on the front door, I noticed that something had been 
left tied for me around the front door handle, so thinking that Auntie
Gladys had been at work with her scones I opened the door.
There all wrapped up inside a small container 
were two exquisite looking scotch eggs and a card

They were absolutely delicious and tasted like nectar.
Your kind gift has made my day
I sat on the damp grass in the front garden in my underpants and ate them both
with my eyes shut!
Thank you

One of the eggs waiting to be scoffed!


What Do You Do When You're Sad?

I've been feeling somewhat sad over the last few days. I'm not unhappy, but I do feel sad and it's not like me at all. I am tired, which doesn't help. Meg, like many old  dogs, seems to be unsettled and restless overnight, and more floor puddles have been appearing in the middle of the night despite a late toileting regime .
I am working nights this weekend which doesn't help either!

When I am sad, I regress to a place of comfort. Some people eat ( I'd kill for a scotch egg just now) others sit in the pub...but for me....comfort comes from the movies. Escapist, stories of other lives and adventures.


My lonely teenage years 
Was filled with big action fantasy high camp disaster movies!

It's a habit that has served me well over the years!

The film of choice today would have been " Jurassic World" dinosaur mayhem and the delightful Chris Pratt with his dimples could have been the ideal panacea a wet Friday's blues but the soddin film doesnt come out until the 15th of June so I had to made do with an online troll for something interesting.

Chris Pratt and big dinosaurs! Bliss!



What I found was a sweet little indie film called " Pitstop" a film that scooped a whole lot of awards from several international film festivals over the last couple of years.
Pitstop tells the story of two middle aged gay men living in the same backwater Texan town. Gabe ( Bill Heck) is a carpenter who lives a quiet existence with his ex wife and daughter. As his wife  now best friend ( Amy Seimetz) embarks on a tentative relationship with a co worker  Gabe's closeted gay life leaves him feeling increasingly lonely as he mourns the loss of a failed relationship with a married man.
Meanwhile across town we see factory worker Ernesto ( Marcus DeAnda)  who finds himself in the death throws of a relationship with the much younger and directionless Luis.
Through a set of understated and not fully explained scenes, the two men lead very drab and
unfulfilled lives , and don't actually meet up together until the very last quarter of the movie, after they hook up on the net. It is only then, quite unexpectedly, that the film suddenly seems full of  hope for the couple who  find themselves part of something that could become rather special.
8/10

What do you do when you're sad?
Answers on a postcard 





!


No news day today,
Dog haircuts completed, the cost has gone up!
Rude moronic shop girl smiled at because I couldn't be arsed saying something.
Dinner cooked,
Rhubarb swapped for some chicken feed.
Gardening done,
I'm now wandering through youtube
And have just enjoyed Estonia's Entry in Eurovision
Oh the excitement!


Finlay @ Christmas


Some animals get under your skin
For recent readers, I post this, my favourite photo of Finlay
He was sitting on the couch watching tv when I snapped this pic of him and father Christmas
It made a lovely Christmas card
I still miss him...he broke my heart

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But...you've given your heart for a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart for the dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear? 

Kipling

A Happy Dog

I was reading Yorkshire Pud's blog last night and was reminded of  an area in Sheffield I used to know very well. YP rented an allotment off Hagg Hill, which was the back road between the surburbs of Crooks and Walkley and Rivlin Valley which led into Hillsborough.
At rush hour these essentially country roads were often gridlocked with commuters so  the usual five minute journey across the valley could take a frustrating half hour or so.
Back in 2002, we had only one dog, a bouncy, lively Welsh Terrier called Finlay.
Finlay loved Traffic jams , for it was the only time he was " allowed" to drive the car.
Ok when I say drive the car, he used to sit on my knee with his paws on the steering wheel and his head out of the open window, a position of power where he could  watch the world move slowly by as we edged our way through the traffic home.
His happiness of this simple little treat always made my day.
On one of these treat days, We were spotted by the traffic police. I never saw the policecar behind me, so the sharp knock on the window threw me slightly
I wound down the window fully and Finlay stuck his head out to say hello to a slightly amused policeman
" What are you doing? " the policeman asked as Finlay smiled broadly at him with big goo goo eyes.
" He likes to drive" I said lamely
" Has he past his test?" The policeman asked
" well  no but , I do the peddles for him " I tried to be funny
" In the back" the policeman ordered with a smile, and before he walked back to his car he kissed Finlay very gently on the head.

Such is the power of a cute happy dog!

Finlay, a few hours before his death  in 2007