Friday, October 12, 2018

My gravity is failing






Before I get to the bad bits, feast your eyes on my great granddaughter who's having a quick taste of her birthday cake. 

I seem to have developed the habit of falling over at least once a month. I believe my gravity is failing or should that be getting stronger.  The stupid thing is that I don't just fall, I fall insanely stupidly.  And to make it worse the paramedic who looks the size of my left leg says she was here last year to pick me up off the floor.

The last fall really hurt since I managed to do a twist mid-air and land on my right leg/knee replacement.
This didn't hurt as much since I was already close to the ground but the way I ended up was strictly Marx Bros. in style.  I have an extension that sits on top of the toilet seat for the crunched up knee replacements. I also have a handle on the wall and as I reached for the handle, the seat twizzled and I missed the handle completely.  I hit the floor, bum first, right leg bent and jammed beside the toilet and wall, bum jammed in the corner of the door frame and left leg ended up in the next door bathroom.  Now that's two separate rooms here and thank goodness the toilet door opens outwards. 
Twenty minutes to disentangle myself from toilet and get to the stage where both legs were facing the same direction.  Crawl to the phone but don't ring 000 just yet, there's the crawl to the front door to open it and grab something warm on the way.  Do the ringing bit, explain the fat lady has sung her way to the floor and can't get up. Everything else is fine, nothing broken, I'm warm, I can wait. 
I really hate the fact that I might be using an ambulance that someone really needs but now they have a team just for falls.  Up goes the cushion and I'm standing and walking to my chair.  I get a lecture on my legs about the fluid which could go to my lungs and heart, well jes tart, it's not like I started out to make elephant legs and I can walk.  She then goes into shock at the 240/110
blood pressure.  Of course I know it's stroke material but I was more worried about the other end which was building up explosively so she decided to wait a few minutes and do it on the other arm. They do a heart test which shows a perfect beat so the blood pressure again, it's down 20 but she wants me to go to hospital for tests for stroke. I told her if my mother can't give me a stroke then nothing will. She rings clinician (?) who wants hospital but goes for doctor's appointment in two hours.  
I'm sure Doc is writing a book about how idiots fall. Says my blood pressure has gone right down and was pleased that blood sugar was only 12 when they stabbed my finger which they couldn't stop bleeding. It's always the way, I either can't get blood or bleed to death.  I was pleased to get home and dry toast and tea was all I could get down. Staggered off to bed with precious cat and rang mother to see if I could frighten her to death, almost but she's bloody tough.
So it's now 4 days and my toe is not broken just bruised from where I jammed it in the toilet brush.  
So the fat lady not only sang but managed the splits, pretty good for my age.

Friday, August 24, 2018

It must be nearly Spring, the dills are begining to bloom





Cartoon of the year.  Embiggen at your risk. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Sunday, August 19, 2018

We do nothing except talk about the weather better than talk about the nightmare of Dutton as PM






This is better to look at than that lump of spotted dick pudding who believes he has the ability to run a country. He couldn't run a chook raffle in a pub and he has the personality of that ice berg.
Enough of him but oh hell wasn't it cold this morning.  It was cold last night and raining and thunder and stupid cat trying to warm his paws on my neck. I finally gave in to the blackmail and put the fire on for him, went to open the sliding door just enough for him to go out.
I could not get it open. We had so many damn hailstones piled up against the door that when they started to melt, they sealed the door. A sheet of ice three inches from the bottom.  Let the Mad Monk rave on about no climate change when we have ice in Melbourne and bush fires in N.S.W.
And just when you thought Parliament couldn't get any worse, we now have a member of such idiocy that I vote for decorating his office in the style of a padded cell. I have deliberately forgotten his name already as it appears his ranting speech was self publicity.  What is wrong with this country when we keep electing raving lunatics who belong to raving lunatic political parties. I think we should start testing for mental capacity, first question, Can you open your mouth without inserting your foot half way down your throat?

I could do with a drink but the thought of putting ice cubes in the gin makes my feet cold. I'll make do with tea.

Friday, August 10, 2018

Another day in Paradise and the cat hates me.


And it starts with United Energy who spent loads of money sending out 3 letters last week to say the power would be off from 8 a.m. to 1.30 p.m. today. So I was supposed to turn everything off, keep the frig closed as much as possible and the freezer not opened at all, oh, you little jokers.  I had ice-cream in the freezer, I'd have had to weld it shut.

So wandering off to bed at midnight with thoughts of nekkid men already strolling through my empty mind, I suddenly realized I'd need a shower now because it will be freezing in the morning and I wouldn't have the heater for the bathroom or the heater for the lounge.  Damn, last bloke leaving my shattered dream had a bod to die for (not at all your taste, Andrew) but I managed to shower without falling over or the door falling on me.  Remembered too that groceries were being delivered at 9 a.m. and then I would visit mother, didn't want to waste a wash.

8.45, cat is sitting on me and staring into my eyes.  The message is clear, fire food fire food and open door or reverse order considering the state of the kitty litter.  Forgot to wash my hair, no dryer, no fire, no tv for the news, anxious to see if we had another quake in Oz, did I mention no fire?  The wind was wild to say the least and I had much amusement in watching the cat remember to turn into the wind.  He ran in and no fire so he opted for food, apparently not to his taste. Swearing was going on and he was just told, no fire, deal with it and he stormed off shedding fur everywhere.  I had 3 layers of clothes on, it was freezing. 

About 11.30 when none of the little red lights had gone off and wind was having a real tantrum, it hit me that no idiot would go up a ladder and play around with wires so I checked the phone but no cancellation was recorded. I rang mother just as something in the carport probably the Volkswagon crashed and she immediately made me promise not to come out in the weather to see her. Joy, visions of ginger cake and hot tea replaced the hot blokes running through my mind. The fire went on with the tv so I could give her the news. Cat came screaming in for warmth but disturbed the balloon still floating about the ceiling and nearly frightened himself to death, raced across a sheet of those big bubble wraps which went off like fire crackers but was caught on his claw and wherever he went it went too.  Mother nearly choked on a biscuit as I gave a running commentary on the noise, she recovered with a mouthful of tea, damn.

I still want to know how much money those idiots wasted on useless letters.
 

Tuesday, August 07, 2018

The Horrors are crawling in my dreams again.








This is the way tranquilizers should be packaged and I need about a dozen of all of them.  My sister told me, yes, told, TOLD me that should things go wrong in Queensland I would have to clear out a room for her to live in.  That's live, not visit but LIVE IN.  But if I can't clear out a room then she can move a caravan into my carport right beside the two cars belonging to her son. I think I have room for the pony.  So instead of being happy happy that she's leaving soon I will have nightmares about her coming back. 
Tranquilizers in quantity is what I need. I call them Bitch Blitzers.