7 November 2014 (Friday) - Still Bleagh

When being told that after the operation I would have two weeks's sick leave there was no denying I was expecting something of a skive. I had plans for extended dog walks, and some serious telly-watching sessions. Instead I'm now wondering if I wouldn't have been better off with just putting up with having nasal polyps.

I suppose I slept reasonably well last night. But I spent an hour this morning putting off the dreaded sinal douching. On the one hand it must be doing some good judging by the post-surgical scabbing it seems to be washing out. On the other hand it is a truly horrible sensation and having done the sloshing I then feel rather grim for the best part of an hour.

I was planning on putting off this morning's douche until after I'd walked "Furry Face ^TM" but the torrential rain was showing no signs of abating, and "Furry Face ^TM" could clearly hear the rain and was showing no signs of stirring. So I bit the bullet, sloshed out the inside of my head, had brekkie, and worked on my latest Wheri-project for a bit until the nausea passed.

The weather dried up a little and so I walked "Furry Face ^TM" round the block. A new geocache had gone live in Great Chart, but today that was far too far away to walk, and I didn't feel confident driving. Someone else could have that First to Find. We walked for ten minutes and then came home again.

Over lunch I watched a film. "Romper Stomper" is supposedly something of a classic film; I thought it was just two hours of needless violence. Whilst watching, my dog had a minor grumble; he'd noticed something in the front garden. Geocachers!! We sprung up and caught the Looneydrews just about to find the cache in our garden. We chatted for a bit; they were gald to have found me. They had a trackable they wanted to pass on to me; a dog-related one. It had daschunds on it. Not entirely unlike "Furry Face ^TM".

I enjoyed chatting with them; I do hope they didn't think me rude but I was seriously wilting, so I made my excuses, and went back to slobbing in front of the telly; waking an hour or so later.

I played with my latest Wheri-project for much of the remainder of the afternoon. It's now all but finished; a little tour round some of the now closed pubs of South Ashford. It needs field-testing. Hopefully I can do that next week as I recover (I certainly intend to recover!).

The plumber called; it was time for the boiler's annual service. In years gone by I have skimped on boiler servicing up to the point where the thing needed immediate replacement. Now it gets an annual once-over (I should be so lucky!)

And with "er indoors ^TM" off flogging candles I spent the evening dozing in front of the telly... This is becoming a habit... must buck myself up.

6 November 2014 (Thursday) - Bleagh

I took myself off to bed at 10.30pm last night and slept without the CPAP machine for the first time in months. A reasonable night's sleep apart from a tiddle trip about 2am. I woke up shortly before 7am feeling quite chipper. I shaved, did my sinal douching and immediately felt like death warmed up. There is something seriously wrong about washing out the inside of one's head with warm salty water. It's not an experience i would wish on anyone, and I am supposed to be doing this for the next month or so.

I took "Furry Face ^TM" for a walk round the park. Many of the trees had lost most of their leaves. When did that happen?

We only went on one of our smaller walks; and I ended up cutting that short. Had I not met up with "little" Christine for a chat I would probably have phoned "er indoors ^TM" for a lift home; I was feeling so iffy. I came home and sat in front of the telly watching Jay and Silent Bob for an hour or so, and then after sulking through Candy Crush Soda Saga for a bit I watched a film I can remember watching with my cousin some forty years ago. In 1976 "Aces High" was a rather good film; today I found it rather disappointing.

The postman came, I then had a rather nasty row on the telephone, and after a little more dozing in front of rubbish on the telly I looked at putting another Wherigo Geocache together. I started off with a tour guide of South Ashford, but am now thinking about "lost pubs". In any event I doubt many people will actually *do* what I am putting together, but for a personal project whilst I'm under the weather it's not a bad thing for me to be getting on with. I just need to come up with seven pubs in the Ashford area that have closed down over the last few years; all within a relatively sort walk of each other. I have some ideas...

Feeling somewhat better I then did my early evening sinal douching and.... what can I say? On the one hand I sloshed quite a lot of gunge, muck, surgical scabs and blood clots out from my conk. (Yuk!) On the other hand it left me feeling washed out (literally and figuratively) for a couple of hours. So much so that there is no way I could have gone for saxophone practice.

Talking of which did you know that today would have been the two hundredth birthday of Adoph Sax; creator of the saxophone (had he lived long enough)...

5 November 2014 (Wednesday) - Post Op

Despite a full-face ventilator CPAP gadget I got off to sleep reasonably promptly last night. I was disturbed a few times by various noises, but I suppose that is to be expected in a hospital ward. I didn't realise that I would have my temperature and blood pressure checked at 1.30am though. That came as something of a surprise. After then I then dozed fitfully until giving up the attempt to sleep and having a shave at 6.30am. For all that this reads as something of a whinge, this would have been something of a lie-in on most days. However shaving with a cannula in the back of one's left hand was rather tricky.

At 7.30am someone nearby started noisily clouting something metal with a hammer. I suddenly vividly remembered being in the children's ward at the Royal East Sussex Hospital some forty-odd years ago. Mornings there were rather noisy too as I recall.

Brekkie was a disappointment. Having been promised a fry-up I was offered porridge and bread & butter. I'd been looking forward to that fry-up too. With brekkie scoffed the surgeon (and a serious entourage) called to say that once the medications were sorted I could go home. He did warn me that there would be a delay, and to expect to be home some time in the early afternoon. I was rather pleased to find all my supplies delived by 9am, and "er indoors ^TM" had delivered me home by 9.30am.

"My Boy ^TM" made a flying visit; he was off to acquire a "hooky christmas tree"; having heard reports of from where they might be obtained. Should any of my loyal readers be in need of "hooky christmas trees", it would seem the first fruit of my loin may know a supplier.

My little dog seemed pleased to see me; he did whinge at me a few times to take him out, but I wasn't feeling quite up to a route march just yet. He soon got the idea that I was having a lazy day, and he jumped and clambered onto the back of the sofa from where he watched the world going by. He's clearly recovering from his back injury.

Before leaving the hospital I'd been asked to select lunch. So at mid day I found myself sitting at home wondering who (if anyone) was eating the lasagne and ice cream I'd ordered.

I then popped to the chemist to collect various prescribed sinal douches and then got some scoff from the KFC which I devoured whilst watching something I'd recorded onto the SkyPlus box; a three part documentary about a re-creation of the voyage of Sir Ernest Shackleton from Elephant Island to South Georgia. It was quite a serious acheivement at the time, and the passage of a hundred years would seem to have done nothing to belittle it.

A colleague from work called round to take my sick note to the boss, and so I then started on two weeks' recuperation. I started this by carrying on staring at the telly, then by playing a little Candy Crush Soda Saga, which is a mind-numbing game. I then had a go at douching my sinus. If any of my loyal readers should wonder, take it from me - I wouldn't normally douche a sinus. I am jsut hoping that (with practice) the douching effect will become more noticeable than the feeling of drowning as my nose fills with salt water.

As as I came up for air "er indoors ^TM" went off flogging candles, so I watched more telly whilst next door practiced their violin. Had I nor just had nasal surgery I would have given them a blast on my saxophone; that usually shuts up their violining...

I think I might just go stir-crazy over the next fortnight...

4 November 2014 (Tuesday) - Nose Job

I woke shortly before 3am, and lay awake tossing and turning fretfully. I got up shortly after 5am and "Furry Face ^TM" sat with me hoping for toast crusts that today weren't coming.

No food or drink for me this morning.

"er indoors ^TM" drove me through a dank morning to the hospital. I was soon booked in by a male nurse. Working in a hospital is odd; the places are *huge*; and they employ (literally) thousands of people. Consequently youu find that there are dozens (if not hundreds) of people with whom you are on nodding terms. This nurse was one such chap; we've both been smiling politely at each other for over twenty years without ever actually having spoken.

Once booked in I was put into my surgical attire, and then introduced to the surgeon and the anaesthetist, then taken to a waiting area where I waited. It was only an hour or so, and people were obviously busying about. Time soon passed, and being second on the operating list I was called in shortly after 10.30am.

Everyone was so good to me, I don't *think* that anyone noticed my nerves.

For those of my more inquisitive or bloodthirty readers I've written a brief summary of why I was in hospital today. You can read it by clicking here. One of the ways in which medical professionals are different to the general public is that they (we) are nowhere near as squeamish about matters surgical matters from which others may well shy away. Having fully understood what was going to happen for some months, just as drips were being administered I suddenly came over a litttle apprehensive.

But it was too late to chicken out. There was an odd sensation of cold spreading up my arm (from the administered drip), a very vivid dream in which I had been told that the operation had been cancelled, and suddenly it was an hour and a half later and all was done.

Very soon I was up on Rotary Ward scoffing shepherd's pie. I tried to transmit to the world to say what was going on. I could not. For some reason I could use Facebook messenger, but Facebook would not work (despite a 4G signal).

After a little while I was visited by the surgeon who asked how I was, and asked if I wanted to go home. After a little to-ing and fro-ing I decided to take up the offer of an overnight stay on the ward. I was feeling a little woozy.

Anyone who knows me will realise I don't like hanging around in my pit, and having no inclination to get out of bed made me realise that I wasn't quite one hundred per cent. Apart from loo trips I stayed in that bed for the rest of the day, which is very unlike me. I must have been poorly.

I spent the afternoon reading an old favourite book of mine "Brideshead Revisited". The actual book; not an e-book. This one had pages, and showed signs of age and was visibly falling apart. I realised that this was the first "proper" book I've read for a long time. Holding the thing was awkward, turning the pages was a faff... I shall get the e-version.

The evening meal arrived. I had the choice of sandwiches, soup, rice pudding or fruit. Due to a mis-communication (which I made no effort to correct) I had the lot. And then "er indoors ^TM" arrived and I plead hunger and she went off to get me more to eat.

Visiting time ended, "er indoors ^TM" tootled off, and I settled down with my book again. For some odd reason it was at this point that my phone's internet connection started to work again.

I resisted the temptation to make more work for the hospital by not going and throttling "Jimmy". Jimmy" was awaiting a lift which had been delayed because of a local traffic accident, and was bellowing his life story to anyone who was interested. And also to everyone else within a five-mile radius. Why to some people have to shout everything they utter?

One of the reasons I was staying overnight was thatt I was trialling a new CPAP attachment, so I wrestled it into place, and put my head down shortly before 11pm...

3 November 2014 (Monday) - Bit Dull

Was it two or three times I was up to the loo in the night? I can live with peeing, but after each trip to the loo the CPAP machine re-sets itself and there is a five minute hiatus whilst the thing trys to inflate me like a balloon whilst it re-sets itself.

Last night I'd spent quite a bit of time listening to our nutty neighbour ranting at his equally nutty wife. I'd heard a rather loud crash which sounded like a lot of crockery being smashed followed by his screeching "You are an evil woman but it is me that will be judged". This morning the row continued. I couldn't hear him this time, but she was shreiking from 6am.

As she wailed like a banshee, "Furry Face ^TM" helped me with the crusts from my toast. I watched a couple of episodes of "Family Guy" to try to get some space back on the SkyPlus box, and then saw the end of an episode of "Charmed" on the E4 channel. It looked like it has promise. I wonder if I can get it on the catch-up on the SkyPlus box?

I drove to work though the pouring rain. As I drove the pundits on the radio mentioned that the weather was particularly dreadful in the West Country, but was a lot brighter in the South East. Five minutes later the official weather forecaster contradicted that entirely; as did I by looking out the window of my car.

Perhaps more interestingly on the radio was the revelation that the UK is probably going to leave the EU after all. One of the fundamental principles of the entire European concept is that of freedom of movement. The German government has insisted the right of EU nationals to live and work in other member states is sacrosanct. And if there is anything the average Brit doesn't want is thousands of more immigrants that we can't afford to keep stocked up on benefits popuring into Dover. Apparently leading German politicians are reluctantly going on record to say that they will accept Britain's leaving the EU if the British cannot accept this principle.

And to add insult to injury, having dumped Britain with a multi-billion pounds windfall bill, the EU now wants interest payments on money as yet unpaid.

I predict....

...Britain *will* leave the EU in a few years over this issue. But in the meantime we will pay every penny of this bill that has the masses up in arms. And we will also be flooded with thousands of such immigrants that the average Brit does not want. And furthermore not a single one of these immigrants will go home once Britain has left the EU.

I stopped off at Morrisons to get some fruit to add to my lunch. I also bought some new slippers; I can't turn up at the hospital tomorrow in the skanky old things I've been using for the last three years (much as I like them). I texted "er indoors ^TM" to tell her she didn't need to get me any new slippers (when shopping) as I'd already got them myself. Or so I thought. I actually texted her the message "git slippers". Obviously this was intended to be read as "got slippers", but it was in fact read as "get slippers", so "er indoors ^TM" went shopping as well... If any of my loyal readers want a pair of slippers...

I then got back into the car, went to add my fruit to my lunch box, found I'd left it at home, and so went back into Morrisons to get some lunch.

Work went reasonably well; the rain subsided at lunch time to allow me a quick practice on my saxophone. "Hello Dolly" is now a lot less like "Hello Sailor" than ever it was, and "da-da-da- da da da-da" is coming along nicely. I wonder if I'll get much chance to tootle over the next day or so?

I came home and found "Furry Face ^TM" to be particularly excitable. Jumping and throwing himself into the air it really does look as though his back is a whole lot better. We had a quick walk round the block where he put to rest any suspicions that he might be less than one hundred per cent by picking several fights with passng cats, dogs and mopeds.

And then with "er indoors ^TM" off bowling I fell asleep in front of a succession of various TV shows. I *hate* that. Let's hope tomorrow's surgery sorts that out...

2 November 2014 (Sunday) - Wet, Gutsache, Telly

After four hours sleep I was laying in bed debating getting up or laying awake trying to sleep. In the end I decided I would only fall asleep later anyway so I might as well be up and about when awake anyway.

With uncertainty as to whether or not to proceed with the day's planned walk (because of bad weather having been forecast) I looked out of the window to find a dry (but overcast and still dark) morning. I checked a few forecasts, and remained gripped by indecision. So I had my brekkie and took my tablets (which worked wonders for my state of mind!)

A minor storm was raging on social media. It's no secret that I record a *lot* of TV shows onto my SkyPlus box and watch them later. This has the advantage that I can watch the shows at a time that suits me and that I can fast-forward through the adverts. However it has the disadvantage that by the time I watch any given programme, at least half a dozen people have already told me what happened.

This was one of the reasons I wanted to watch last night's "Doctor Who" as broadcast. (Being on the BBC it has no adverts anyway). What happened was.... no; I won't give anything away that you haven't already seen on trailers. I thought it was good.But (as always) I would seem to be in the minority.

There is something about "Doctor Who". I must admit that some episodes are good, some not so. But it's rather different to how it used to be. When it had its first run it was a British TV show. And British TV at the time had three channels. There was BBC1 which was funded from TV licence payments so they could make whatever they wanted. There was BBC2 which no one watched anyway. And there was ITV; the only competitor to the BBC. Consequently (applying the theory of market forces) the BBC had little competiton and it got away with making some rather dire TV.

With very little sci-fi on the telly (no British sci-fi of note at all), over the years "Doctor Who" picked up pretty much all the sci-fi enthusiasts who became something of a "cult" audience. And like any kind of sci-fi fandom, "Whovians" created a whole mythos and expectation of the show which bore little, if any, relation to what's actually seen on the telly.

I can't beleive the nasty negative comments I was reading about last night's episode (which I quite liked). Here's a challenge to anyone who feels that they used to like "Doctor Who" and now thinks it's rubbish. Don't rely on your memory; actually watch an episode of the old stuff. Watch Jon Pertwee mincing about like a pantomime dame. Watch Tom Baker fooling and playing the idiot to cover up the lack of any kind of plausible plot. Watch Sylvester McCoy struggling with a script purposely written to get people to stop watching the programme.

And if you still don't like the current offerings, then stop watching the show.

I then checked my emails; one was from "Coursera". Next week they are starting a new course entitled "Origins - Formation of the Universe, Solar System, Earth and Life". Presented by the academic staff from the University of Copenhagen it seems an interesting topic. It might give me something to do when otherwise bored. It's free; so I've signed up for it.

Eventually people were waking up and appearing in cyberspace. With others to make suggestions we soon formed a consesnsus view to postpone today's planned ouiting to Meopham; it would be a long way to go to get wet and muddy. Instead we thought we might go somewhere (relatively) locally; I suggested a (sort-of) urban stroll around New Romney after the worst of the forecast rain had been and gone.

I spent a little while fiddling about with FTP uploaders, and then when the weather forecast told us that the worst of the rain had passed five of us (and the non-convalescent dog) left the convalescent dog in his bed and drove down to New Romney where we walked round tarmac-ed ares for two miles, found half a dozen geocaches (one the like of which I'd not seen in over four thousand previous finds) and got soaked in the worst of the rain that hadn't actually passed at all.

That weather forecast had lied(!)

It was good to get out for a walk, it was good to get home and to get dry. We were home far earlier than is usual for a Sunday, so we spent some time catching up with episodes of "Downton Abbey" which had been recorded onto the SkyPlus box. Half way through a serious telly session we had a visitor. "My Boy ^TM" had come to collect his waterproofs; he's planning to go fishing on the beach in a monsoon tomorrow.

We had a rather good casserole for dinner; I was hoping it would settle my innards; they haven't been right since last night's does of vindaloo cashew nuts. Unfortunately the casserole didn't settle anything, and with "er indoors ^TM" off bowling I spent the evening farting like a fruitbat.

You can tell a bad fart; not even your own dog will sit with you... but my grand-pug will sit with my grand-son. I do like the photo I was sent today from "Daddies Little Angel ^TM"'s bathroom floor.

1 November 2014 (Saturday) - Family Day

By the time I'd stuffed up the astro club's accounts and solved a geo-puzzle last night I didn't get to bed till nearly 2am. After an hour's laying awake I was watching "Toddlers and Tiaras" on the TLC channel before 6am. I *hate* these poxy steroids.

"Furry Face ^TM" seemed rather excitable this morning, he chased sparrows out of the garden at tiddle time, and was running up and down the stairs as though nothing was wrong with him. After jumping on and off of sofas, I caught him upstairs building up for an epic leap on to the bed. So I took him for a walk. Compared to what we've done before it wasn't a long one. Just through Bowens Field to the fountain in Viccy Park and home through the co-op field. A short stroll, we were home before 8am. But I felt he needed a walk. He's clearly missed them - the soles of his little feet have all gone fluffy where he's not walking the fur away at the moment.

Once home he took himself straight to bed and was soon soundly snoring whilst "er indoors ^TM" lambasted me for over-exerting the poor pup.

I had a go at the household accounts. They have been worse; they could be better. Things would be a whole lot better if I didn't keep having unexpected emergencies and going out on the razzle. But what's money for if not to squander foolishly.

And then over second brekkie (hot cross buns and coffee) we watched last week's episode of "Doctor Who". I do like Peter Capaldi as The Doctor; but does the show really need "token fit bird #34" to keep going home in every episode?

Whilst "er indoors ^TM" pootled about I popped into town. Astro club money to pay into the bank, and some shopping of my own. I wanted a bigger rucksack for hiking, and I got one from a street trader. I wanted a cheapo coat for slobbing about in, and I got one from the OxFam shop. I wanted some new slippers... and was unlucky. What's happened to all the shoe shops in town. When the fruits of my loin were smaller there were eleven shoe shops in Ashford. I can remember we walked round the town and counted them once. Now there is one. Just one. Perhaps people buy from supermarkets or on-line, or make shoes last longer. I don't know, but I could only find one shoe shop.

I found a couple of cheeky Munzees, and came home through the rain.

Once home we collected "My Boy ^TM" and Lacey and drove round to the Riverside Diner for a spot of lunch. A rather good chili-cheese burger went down well; four meals and pop came to just over twenty quid. I was impressed with that. Whilst in the area we looked at the Christmas display in Bybrook barn Garden Centre, and then drove down to Folkestone to see "Daddies Little Angel ^TM" and the baby. He's putting on weight.

I suppose that after such an awful night's sleep it's only expected that I would doze off during the afternoon. I wasn't sparko for long; but long enough.

Home again; and with "er indoors ^TM" off out on some beano or other I got the Christmas beer out of the bucket and into the barrel. Whilst it's very early days it doesn't taste *too* bad. Here's hoping. And then i settled in front of the telly with my dog and watched "Doctor Who" as it was actually broadcast (for the first time in a month). Having seen cybermen all over the BBC's program breaks for the last week I thought I knew what was going to happen. But what a surprise...

As a Saturday treat I'd bought myself a packet of vindaloo cashew nuts which I scoffed whilst watching telly. If any of my loyal readers ever want to throw away good money, buying vindaloo cashew nuts is a good way of doing so.