Coffee with Eleanor

 I went for an X-ray on my neck and shoulder today, more healthcare but this time professional and very slick. I was in a local cafe by 11am which is owned by the family of Mike Peters,the frontman of the band The Alarm , who died a few days ago. My brother looked after his guitars for him and they were kindred spirits so to speak. The cafe was surrounded by floral tributes from fans, friends and villagers which was sweet

Chic Eleanor turned up looking every inch the English lady she is and hugged me for the longest time

“Darling you need a hug and I have them in abundance “ she purred

I didn’t argue.

I moaned and she listened over coffee

It was good to see her

This afternoon I completed a literature search for uni, 

I will leave you with these two videos of well known songs

Genius

Adele’s someone like you and Abba

White Coat Syndrome

 

I was reviewed by the eye clinic consultant today

Apparently I have an abnormal Right eye from a blood vessel bleed which  probably occurred a few years ago

I cannot abide anyone assessing my eyes

A no nonsense nurse that felt as though she could handle herself in a pub fight squeezed painkillers and a pupil dilator in and as I half struggled to stop her , she held me down like a reluctant Virgin to complete her pressure studies 

LOOK FORWARD ! She instructed as if she was training a horse and I tried to comply…..

By the time the consultant reviewed my scans and asked for my blood pressure to be taken it was 200/100

I wasn’t fucking surprised

He frowned and said “This is not good”.

My blood sugar was a little high too but hadn’t dipped after my lunch only an hour before 

I tried to explain I was stressed but he was convinced I was devoid of any moderately healthy symptoms 

I nearly fainted when he said the treatment for my condition was injections into the eye itself 

I wondered if the robust clinic nurse would be doing it? And when? 

An hour later at home my blood pressure was 140/88 and my blood sugar was 6

The Twins

 

I woke with Weaver's serious face staring at me

Bun was sat on my legs

Both purring like German war planes

Drama

 

Blogging can attract a certain type of commentator, a personality that can identify as the persecutor or Critical Parent. In the context of Karpman’s Drama Triangle the Persecutor is an overly critical, demanding and controlling type who actively seeks to maintain power by blaming, criticising and punishing others. 

They are often judgemental and can seek to dominate the interaction by manipulation and the adherence to rules.

They bully.

lol are any of you having a light bulb moment? 

The other roles within the triangle are the Rescuers and the victims and by playing each role the drama can continue. Awareness is the key, awareness and recognising what roles you are playing in the interaction, having the ability to laugh and point at it or like an adult to be able to remove the interaction from play.

Trolls are personality damaged people, they seem unable or unwilling to leave their persecutor role which is an awfully sad place to find yourself in.

Mary Used To Like Cats

7 years ago 

Mary and Albert 

 

Saturday

 

If you are of a certain age and British, this clip will bring back many happy memories of an early Saturday evening. 

Not much to report or talk about today. 

Shut Up And Dance

This is my favourite dance song, not that I do a lot of dancing nowadays.

The video has been edited well as you can see.

It always brings a smile to my face

I met my friend Polly for coffee at breakfast time . She is a doctor and a friend I can trust and bizarre as it sounds she gave me a neurological exam whilst we sat in the Bryn Williams cafe window.

She thinks my arm weakness may be a result of muscle damage and suggested I go for an ultrasound .

I’ve emailed my doctor with her suggestions 

Skirmish

A quiet war has been raging in the cottage 

It’s all very subtle

So subtle I have missed it 

Last night I noticed that Mary wasn’t curled up asleep on the couch as per her norm

I found her sat next to the cat flap looking innocent

If she could whistle, she would have done it

I knew something was afoot.

A flash of eyes told me the story, golden eyes outside the cat flap 

Bun or Weaver were waiting to come in

Mary was the gatekeeper 

And was letting no bugger inside

Old dogs eh ? 

They can be real twats