Knickerbocker glory’s in tiger country.

knickerbocker glory

So you might not know what a knickerbocker glory is, I never had one but always coveted one…in every cafe we ever went in as a child I watched enviously as other children were given these beautiful treats by doting grandparents. I wasn’t the only deprived child, my husband also coveted a knickerbocker glory and never got one. This current generation with mcflurries and kiwiyo will never understand our loss, I suspect there must be something they covet…maybe it is cabbage or tapioca..or semolina…

Anyway I had to have surgery this week and it was classed as high risk and I am classed as high risk. I don’t have cancer, I have chronic diseases which is exactly like it sounds..chronic kind of slow and lingering. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis, Ulcerative colitis and a bit of Sjogren’s, I also bleed in surgery for no known reason and have allergies to a fair few antibiotics including penicillin and also a latex allergy, add in steroid dependency immunosuppressant drugs and I am quickly becoming the last person you want in your operating theatre we can now add in difficult intubation on more than one occasion and to be fair you wouldn’t touch me with a barge pole if you could help it.

It was my sixteenth surgery. That is my sixteenth surgery done with anaesthetic and cutting in Theatre, not including those other procedures like the colonoscopies, endoscopies, flexi-sigmoidoscopies, IVF procedures, MRI’s CT’s and minor intrusions.

There will be many of you out there that have been through more and many that have been through less but all I can tell you is that despite everything, which included losing 3 litres of blood in 2 minutes in my last surgery and nearly not surviving this one had terrified me the most. The sixteenth.

The sixteenth surgery was in tiger country. Not in my belly or my abdomen or some big roomy cavern but up my nose and into my head to the deep space beneath the brain that is called the sphenoid sinus. Tiger country because the membranes are all that stands between the scalpel and the brain, Tiger country because the membranes are all that stands between the scalpel and those major blood vessels and arteries. Tiger country because that is how Dr Shetty described it and that is how I found my peace on the afternoon of my surgery, he was going to be slow and careful and exercise stealth to remove the disease and infection from the tiger country.

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

William Blake.
The team were meticulous in their preparation, no sign of latex, blood products on standby and two full anesthetists as well as an anaesthetic technician and I was swallowed in the most wonderful blanket of fentanyl to wander through the forests in the thick of night to hide from the shadows of the tigers burning bright. It was so warm and I was in a cafe and I was going to be getting my first ever knickerbocker glory, it had been ordered and it was taking such a long time to come. My mouth watered at the thought of the coolness of the ice cream and the lusciousness of the fruit. It was so hot in the cafe and I needed air, so I sat on the step in the doorway to feel the breeze across my face, and there it was on its way out to me when they called me back. They were calling my name rousing me from my sleep and it was so warm and I wanted to wait and get my ice cream- my knickerbocker glory, but the calling wouldn’t let me stay and I had to waken.
It was over. Job done. Temperature had dropped to 35.8 so I was laden with heated blankets and on oxygen, despite their best efforts I had been a “challenging” intubation and my throat was raw and sore, and my right eye was watering from the sticky gel they had used to protect my eyes from being shut so tightly. I looked at the clock and checked the time. it was 15.45 and I was alive. 15.45 and I had survived and Dr Shetty had removed the disease and brought me safely back from the Tiger Country.
I cannot thank them enough.
tyger__tyger__burning_bright_by_nienor-d2ju394-800x0-c-default

Pug Love

So we have become temporary pug sitters or pug parents. It seemed a good way of helping out a friend in need and this is a pug of princess proportions who has appeared in high fashion namely an edition of vogue.

She is like a food vacuum cleaner and any food that is on the floor for more than a matter of seconds is fair game and so far she has hoovered up several cat dinners as well as her own. I have learned to be vigilent and move the cat bowls as soon as the cats lose interest but to no avail- I fail on  a regular basis only to hear the snuffling and shuffling that indicates the cat dinner is lost forever. I have googled this phenomena and apparently it is a pug trait. Pugs do food. It’s not their fault. It is like scorpions do sting…well pugs do food.

So have we found our inner pug…do we feel the pug love.

I have to say she has won us over she might be the ugliest cat that our cats have ever seen, and she might not do long walks in leafy suburbs, she fell off the laundry doorstep the first night and now refuses to use that doorstep…but she is very endearing in an under the skin kind of way. She misses her real mum on a regular basis and is sometimes very very sad and then at other she is is playful as a puppy and excitedd to be in the world.

I hope her time with us is leaving a good impression I get the impression that in her sphere of experience we are probably the equivalent of hillbilly rednecks, but yes we have found some of our pug love. XXXX

 

 

 

 

My own flock of birds….

The trip of a lifetime

We left on December 10th to visit our families in England and to spend a little over a month reconnecting with people and places treasured and valued from our varied and various pasts.

I suspect there is more that this trip will be the basis of more than one blogpost.

I am scared of flying, well to be a little more precise I am terrified of take-off, very uncomfortable at the thought of being in the air, petrified of turbulence and I always pray to God and anything else when landing…so the thought of three take offs, three landings and one leg of the journey being approx 16 hours in the air- it was actually a major mission for me, that I can only liken in terms of dread to the equivalent of facing fairly major traumatic surgery. (something that I also seem to do quite often…) On the plus side- at least you don’t have to recover quite the same following a flight.. well hopefully not.

Anyway off we went…on our awfully big adventure…excited and wary…especially of the transit through Dubai where I did actually get stopped and drug tested….and I attempted to use logic to over come my fears.

Take-offs were remarkeably unremarkeable…quite an oxymoron, I can only say that the A380 is smooth as..it was hard to really tell that you were taking off, but my nose started to bleed just before we landed in Australia only about 3 hours into our flight schedule and I have come to the conclusion that landings are landings, the only way to survive them is to pray repetititively- something I don’t normally do in my everyday life, close your eyes tight shut and grip something rather tightly like you supposedly do when in labour…and pray..pray for loved ones, pray for those with you, and pray some more..

Turbulence was another issue… I tried to rationalise it. I decided if the plane was travelling at however many miles an hour that on the whole most patches of turbulence should only realistically last for  minutes rather than hours whilst we travelled thought the offending weather system. I also looked at the cabin crew and decided that if turbulence was always a major issue it probably wouldn’t be a career of choice for so many people and that people wouldn’t then have long careers. One of my schoolfriends became an airhostess….cabin crew and she has been doing the job now for maybe 25 or more years which would suggest that most of my worries about take off landing and turbulence are not warranted as she is still flying regularly.

My nose continued to bleed on and off all the way to Dubai- and we all wonder if this is why I got hauled out for drugs testing…it was actually over and done with in a few minutes but was a little terrifying, especially as a number of drugs that I use for my Rheumatoid Arthritis are not widely tolerated/accepted in the UAE.

Anyway the final leg of our journey was Dubai to Manchester and I felt at ease with in minutes, as I could hear the change in the voices of the people around me. Suddenly the tone and the words and the accents were familiar to me. The language was the same, there was a common and shared understanding and I knew almost instantly what it was like to rejoin my own flock of birds. I was one of them, I could hear it in their voice and my own, I fitted in- I belonged.

My own flock of birds.