New Year's Eve

started bright and early here. I didn't get the long lie-in I was after. Two reasons: 1) I woke myself coughing and couldn't stop and 2) I have 24 people coming for eats/drinks/whatever tonight and I now have to go get an MRI scan at noon.

Went for the MRI on Monday evening as previously directed only to find the scanner was BROKEN. I was told I'd wait at least another 3 weeks for a new appointment, but Lo and Behold yesterday they call and say go today. At least I get to finally start the PA (psoriatic arthritis) treatment after this.

My New Year's Eve 'At Home', (don't call it a party as WH hates parties) should be renamed 'gathering for those recovering from the bug' as every single person has had it and the phone lines have been hot with people checking that if they come they wouldn't infect anyone. Never have people been so courteous but given the nature of the disgusting germ round here, you wouldn't wish it on your own worst enemy.

So tonight we party and celebrate the back of a year that has been fairly rubbish and not much improvement on the previous one and that not only had a couple of bereavements but a murder trial as well. Hopefully 2009 will be much improved. As of this week the kitchen is all but finished, the driveway and front is too and that only leaves 2 bathrooms, the utility, cloakroom and a back garden to plan. Sounds quite a list but believe you me it's small beer compared with what WH has achieved in the rest of the house.

I'm really looking forward to 2009, it's almost 2 years since I first set foot in this house and I'd really like to be able to relax and enjoy it. I'd like WH to be able to too and rid himself of this awful depression, which I am assured has very little to do with the house but even so it would be a big relief.

So cheers here's to 2009 and a Happy NEW Year.

We wish you a Merry Christmas

A very quick post in here to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas (I will def be right behind you on this one) and a hope 2009 is better for everyone too.

I'll be hoping for peace, love and understanding in my stocking as life with a possible bi-polar depressive is eventful to say the least and extremely stressful too. If I can survive the festive period and catering for seemingly half of Great Britain in what looks like an Afghan Field Kitchen I will will bestow up myself a Lifetime Achievement Award with a box of Hotel Chocolate's finest, won by dint of a relative suddenly informing me she's allergic to chocolate and has been for years so a substitute present had to be brought on p.d.q.

A final word to all you long suffering Better Halves out there, never EVER believe a builder or Worst Half when he says just a couple more days and it will be all done. Christmas dinner, if we ever get to cook any, will be spent in the field kitchen but only after all the guests have managed to scramble over the 6 foot hole outside the front door or battled through a pile of rubble and a utility with no walls. They have been warned.

Cheers. Hic!

An early Christmas present

Those wild boys from Deer Lick Holler have been busy and given us not one but two new freely download-able tracks as a gift for Christmas. Kind of makes up for the fact that they have not toured this autumn, after 8 years solid gigging they did reserve a rest. Barley Scotch aka John Wheeler was supposed to be doing a solo tour of 'songs and standup', a reprise of his appearance at this year's Edinburgh Festival, however the deepening financial crisis and lack of ticket sales have forced him to cancel.

So mosey on down to their 'Tasting Room' and have a listen now. Hey, even download them if you really like them.

It's that sort of week

and it's only Monday.

Last week I had a fatal error on my pc. It lost all my files. Nothing left, zilch, nada, zero. OK most stuff was backed up but not the VAT I had been working on for days. Today I rang my friendly neighbourhood PC Repair Man, actually my boss in a previous life. He couldn't save it either. So that was disaster number one. Moral of the tale back up your stuff daily. I just ordered an external hard drive to do it automatically now.

Number 2 problem is the washing machine has just packed up, sounds like the pump. It stayed full of water so I propped it up on bricks (of which I have a plentiful supply) and drained it out by gravity. Problem 3 occurred putting it all back. I leaned over and heard a distinct crack. A dull pain in my side ever since confirms my suspicions, another broken rib, sixth in 4 years. Ouch.

The washing machine is only 16 months old but in the move I forgot to renew my maintenance cover. I called up to check. What a joke, 'We'll only charge you £150 but this does include a FREE warranty for 12 months.' The whole machine only cost about £240. I called the local parts supplier, 'New pump? Off the shelf for that model, just come and collect it. Price? £14.99. ' So WH will be fitting that then.

Problem 4, not a problem really, more like a whinge, but the floor layers who were due at 2 just turned up now, at 5.15 so now I've got to spend half the evening glued in the living room which has the entire contents of the kitchen in. And WH will be home late; he has to go and pay for his skiing trip. So that will be me putting all the kitchen back at 9pm then. That's if they do lay the floor. Apparently this super high tech underlay we have just might need another type of glue. In which case they'll have to come back. One day in this mess is enough, I don't need any more, let alone the stink of 30 square meters of acrylic glue.

So that's just Monday, I wonder what else this week has in store, the looming MRI on my hands perhaps?

The NHS lets me down again

Two weeks ago I saw a new Rheumatologist, new to me but not new 'in post'. WH had seen this chap once and we were both impressed with his approach, study ALL the notes, ask endless, seemingly unrelated, questions, quick-fire fashion all whilst his brain was processing the information at lightening speed. As it happened, he didn't think WH's problem fit his diagnostic criteria and recent events have confirmed that. I was thus prepared to be dazzled with the speed of a clever doctor's mind working overtime for me and overwhelmed by having to answer and hundred questions at once. I was also apprehensive that he would, like his colleagues dismiss me as another, over worrying 50-something.

Disarmingly he greeted me with a smile and with the words that he had studied my entire medical history and had noticed a large number of random ailments which he thought just might be connected. He said I had previously seen all the Rheumatologists in the district and now maybe I should get some answers. He proceeded to outline my collection of symptoms, starting at age 12 and a problem with my wrist, through sacro-iliac problems following being hit with a hockey ball the following year until he reached recent matters with my hands and feet, via skin rashes, allergies and the myriad investigations of the typical heart-sink patient. He then examined me and again surprised me by seemingly ignoring my hands other than a cursory glance and paying far more attention to my arm (long standing rash) and my feet which he poked and prodded and caused more pain then I have ever had in them and that's saying something. He asked me about cortisone I had had in my hands, shoulders and feet and got me generally confused and reduced to a gibbering wreck as I tried to answer him succinctly and quickly. After all, who can remember the precise date they had an injection in the sole of the foot, the pain, yes, but the month, possibly, the year probably. And so it went on. He told me to get dressed and then shouted from the other room to ask if I had ever had anything wrong with my scalp. I had, I have right now. He rushed back in and stroked all over my head, with a gentle version of an Indian head massage. 'Very extensive' was his only comment.

Returning to the office fully dressed, he appeared to be surfing the internet. I sat and waited. Finally he asked me about my family if anyone had arthritis - all except my mother, or psoriasis - my sister, my cousin. He then delivered his verdict. I have probably had psoriasis most of my life and now have full blown Psoriatic Arthritis. He described in detail symptoms I had which no doctor has ever made much of, the rash I can feel but is invisible, the joints which feel like they will burst, the itch I have had for upwards of 10 years but which will not go away, the sores I had on my head and which lead to long term bullying at school. My miraculous recovery last year was due to 2 things, the eradication of the Lyme bug from my system and the fact that the Lyme treatment is an old fashioned treatment for arthritis. A classic case of killing two birds with one stone, or in this case two illnesses with the same treatment. Which is why the arthritis and psoriasis have returned to fight another day but the Lyme symptoms have not. My previous diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis was similar but he felt only part of the picture.

He wrote me 3 prescriptions there and then and I had 4 x-rays, some blood taken and have to have a full bone scan and a MRI of my hands. 'About the only two tests you don't appear to have had already,' he joked. After the scans I can take some of the heavy duty stuff he has prescribed but for now I have pain killers which work (makes a change) and some weird cream made from chili peppers which magic the pain away in minutes. I have to be careful where I put that stuff though!

He smiled, was gentle and caring. I liked him, I trusted him, even more so when he said he has relatives with the same complaint. His aim is for me to be pain free in the long term and significantly better in a couple of months. After all he said you've seen enough people who had missed it, it's about time I had some treatment.

So once again I have been failed by the NHS and their cost cutting, time saving piece meal approach to patient care. When someone took the trouble to view me holistically and look at all the information instead of a tiny part the answer was staring him in the face and probably had been for 40 years.

Blue is the colour

This is the colour of my new worktop. Looks much better in real life. Already I love it. The kitchen is finally taking shape, all those ideas which have been swirling round in my head for the last 18 months are finally coming to life. The depressed painter has almost done and we now have an alcove the exact colour of the worktop with the painting hanging on it from which the whole room took inspiration. It's a gouache of a Greek courtyard with blue and white walls, some steps and a vibrant fuchsia coloured bougainvillea, against a brilliant blue sky. When the sun shines and the whole room fills with light and warmth you can almost smell the thyme. Even in this extremely cold and frosty weather, this south-facing space fills with sun and is going to be a great place to sit.

Most of the cupboards are now in and on Monday the floor-layers come to finally put down the proper flooring after months of walking about on a mix of wood concrete and offcuts of carpet. After that we get the peninsular units in and then it's on to the last lap, tiling and a few decorative bits and pieces. I do hope it all goes smoothly, we have about ten people coming for Christmas day and I need a proper working kitchen, not the building site I've been living in until now!

Mind the gap

Mind the gap? Yes I flippin' do.

Anyone who is any good at fixing blogger template problems please listen up......

I've got a horrendous gap in my sidebar, don't laugh now please, and it just appeared overnight. And now it won't go away. Whatever. Never. I hate it.

If anyone has any ideas how to fix this I'm all ears. It's driving me nuts and every time I look at it, it makes me more mad. I'm probably just obsessing because there is so much going on around here right now, talk about juggling, I'm juggling everyone else's stuff too and they all ran away and left me with the balls. Or rather no balls at all, I'm stressed right out.

It isn't even Christmas yet, that's the least of my worries thanks to the good old 'net', all my shopping 's been done online, even the food.

So back to the original topic, I know I'm rambling, my brain's turning to spagetti. Any ideas how to get rid of this stupid gap will be extremely welcome.

Thank you.

The smallest ones are the most aggravating

The greys are more settled now. Never having lived anywhere with central hating until now, they have finally realised that the radiators are not going to jump off the wall and chase them, the odd little noises they make usually indicate that they are getting warm and that sitting on a window cill above a warm radiator is treat worth being brave for.

Usually in the day time they are together more often than not and now the weather has turned colder they stay indoors. Last week they were on the sofa and around the living room. This week they are on my bed, the living room having been moved round yet again awaiting the impending delivery of the fireplace.

So here they are, together but apart, as always. Misty at the back has his customary little sly look, as though he is wondering what to do next, watching me taking the photos as Nelson begins to snuggle down for a snooze after a long leisurely wash. Misty is always on the go, nervous as a tick, waiting for the moment to do some damage, play with something or just plain be his annoying self. Nelson has a new peace about him and is calmer now, life after Goggins has altered the dynamic and he revels in not being bullied and in the much larger house to lose himself in.

(Misty Back, Nelson Front)

Not for long though. Misty waits for me to finish the pics then he pounces, biting Nelson's ears and trying to dislodge him from the warm bed. Nelson however is developing a whole new temperament too, he feels more secure now and so for once he gets the better of his smaller, more fiesty brother. A swift smack on the nose has Misty scurrying, beaten, down the stairs and the bang of the cat flap tells us he has gone off in a huff. Looking through the front window I can see he is already out in the road on the trail of the Skankies six houses down. Now those miserable cats he can always beat. This new bold brother of his has finally got his measure and it's all becoming a bit hard to take.

(Misty Front, Nelson Back)

Even as I write the end of this Misty has returned and tried again, the Skankies couldn't have been out to play. Nelson refuses to budge and so the bored little Misty goes into the back room and beats hell out of the growing pile of christmas presents instead.

Happy Holidays

It's Thanksgiving over the pond tomorrow, the official start of the 'Holiday' Season. In honour of this and as an early Christmas present to those of us here, those ever busy Hayseed boys have given us two previously unrecorded tracks as a thank you to all of us for supporting them over 8 long years of continuous gigging.

You can download them and as the man says 'spread them around' from here. Send them to your mates and educate them as to the true nature of Rockgrass. My fave has to be Father Christmas, a revival of an old Kinks track written well before the days of Asbos but as my fellow Hayseed fan Stellalover says, it sums up an Asbo Christmas perfectly. I think it has a touch of the Pogues about it too. It would make a great Christmas single and here they are giving it away for free. Thanks guys.

All planted out

Not my new garden unfortunately, for we are still awaiting the arrival of the ground-workers who have been coming 'next week' since August and even set definite dates and times three times but have variously been rained off or prevented from coming here by having to do remedial work for flash flood emergencies. So yesterday I gave up thinking my garden will ever have top soil and rushed out and bought even more big blue tubs and thus today it was that I planted 200 assorted bulbs into said tubs. Next year I will have flowers in my garden, they just wont be in the ground but in 30-odd varieties of blue frost free planters which are lining up along the patio like rows of little blue soldiers.

The other side of the (half built, brickies were rained off too)steps are serried ranks of herbaceous perennials looking very straggly and died down but which are actually humungous plants which will easily split into 2 or three pieces when they are finally released. These were scooped from my local National Trust garden the last couple of weeks.

I went on the Saturday to go to their annual Craft Fair and made a detour on the way out to check the sale area of the garden shop. Oh my! What delights awaited there. All these perennials, some quite unusual which had been marked down to 50p or £1 from a previous price of between £6 and £8. I hastily grabbed a dozen of the most obvious things to jump up at me and hastened home. I returned the following week with my Best Friend and bought another 16. Total outlay for 28 plants, £22. Result. Amongst these were a small tree, Eucryphia Lucida 'Pink Cloud' £1, a False Lily of the Valley, Maianthemum canadense 50p and a Lobster Claw, Clianthus puniceus 50p. If even one of these grows I'll have had my money's worth. Two hostas £1 each were bigger than some of the ones I have had in pots for 12 months pending this move. The jewel in the crown must be however, this one ,Anemone riparia, a North American native also known as the Tall Anemone.

If she survives, all this garden aggro will have been worth it. Now I just need that top soil to plant her in.

Nice to see you

Been awol awhile. Not my fault exactly but the last few days I've had a horrendous problem with my ISP and finally tracked it down to a problem at my local telephone exchange. This afternoon it was fixed in the good old fashioned way by a man actually going there apparently. I didn't know they did that anymore.

So now I'm back online but not through my AOL software which still continues to give us grief. I asked for my MAC numbers 3 days ago to migrate elsewhere, more a threat than a real commitment. Now today I receive a bargain deal from Sky drop through my letter box, less than a sixth of my current monthly charge and free calls too. Wonder if it is too good to miss?? I might just see after 6 months of hassle with AOL's unreliable service. I thought it was poor in the old house, since the move it's been 10 times worse. 8 years ago it was brilliant, I recommended them to everyone and argued with several. Now I'm beginning to change my mind.

Check out Durty Dan

Kitchen Crazy

After two whole weeks of seeing, breathing, reading and almost eating kitchen designs, diagrams, pc screens, mock-ups, plans and long hours in boring showrooms we finally decided on a kitchen last Wednesday. What is more, they delivered it on Friday. So there it sits in the alcove all wrapped in cerise shrink wrap waiting to be taken out and fitted. I spent almost all of Thursday on the net and the phone ordering appliances. Just the worktops to get now. That will be the easiest, it was the only element that WH and I agreed instantly on, we both fell in love at the same moment, casting out our vow not to have anything too quirky. So the worktops will be blue granite, quite a bright blue. Just have to get on the blower and order them tomorrow, our supplier conveniently having stock check days yesterday and Friday so not able to take orders.

The alcove though will remain an alcove. Because the overall space is large, over 6m square and has some structural features which we had to keep, it was difficult to get a cohesive layout that encompassed the entire area. One side of the room will be the dining area wherein lies said alcove. Having seen what effect the cerise wrap has had on the whole space we're now thinking sideboard. Old fashioned in name, our ideal is anything but. We're thinking something on the lines of the one above but in blue, bright blue. Oooh I want to order it now.

Just another little tune.

I first heard this at a Hayseed Dixie gig in Exeter a few years ago. Not one of theirs but it was being played over the pa before hand, Dave Bennett's choice perhaps?

Anyway have a giggle and try to ignore the pictures, hopefully not representative of what's in my fridge.

Welcome to the house of fun

OK, OK, I know the subject matter of this is not really relevant but the title sure sums my life up pretty well at the moment and as for the name of the band, Madness, that definitely says it all.

Nuff said.

Going out

I still don't seem to have much time to come here these days. Maybe it has something to do with WH being home all day after his shoulder op, two weeks ago. And then again maybe it has something to do with WH being in the throws of a real bad depression, so much so I'm not really sure how to cope any more. I've ordered loads of reading material from the net but of course it hasn't actually arrived just yet.

He's stopped taking all his meds as well which doesn't help and failed to appraise his GP of that fact at his most recent appointment. The GP is, however, writing a strongly worded letter to the local health authority as he is STILL awaiting a consultant's appointment that he was referred for in late January. Waiting list? They must have fiddled his entry on that one, it's now more like 40 weeks not 13.

Actually the real reason I've not been here is I've been out quite a lot, I need to get out on my own or I'd be going mental too. Today I braved the nearest IKEA, still some 70 miles away, and bought the last of a line of bookcase/dresser type things that will adorn the whole of one wall in the living room. I just have to put it together. I'm quite proud of my living room, all the flat-pack was assembled by my own fair hands. It took me ages and I'm doubtless much slower than a normal person but I quite enjoy doing it. Years ago I did all the bedroom furniture too and I must have a reasonable technique aided by extensive use of woodworking glue which never comes with the stuff but which I always use, but none of it has ever even thought about falling apart.

So tomorrow I've got a real treat. Assemble the latest cupboard then retrieve the last of my studio pottery collection from the old garage and arrange in said cupboard. Now that I will stay in for.

Settling in - part 2

Read part 1 here.

After the first few days of nervous exploration the family settled to it's new home fairly well. Goggins stayed near the house at all times, so long as he was fed and could find WH he was happy.

The grey twins quickly took over the neighbourhood like a pair of seasoned pros. Opening the garage door each afternoon in order to take out the hosepipe to water the pots of plants along the front wall, I would be followed by the grey pair who would shoot out onto the crown of the road and look up and down to ensure no other cats were lurking in the undergrowth. They roamed up and down the road together, sniffing out all the cars and checking neighbours gardens for rivals. They seemed to be saying 'Right lads let's be having you if you want a good scrap'. Of course in reality, if another cat did appear they scarpered back indoors or came up close to me. They did have a few skirmishes with a group we named the Skankies, poor bedraggled, underfed little scraps and to whose owner I would normally have returned them immediately after they riffled the bins and black bags for anything remotely edible. In essence these are hungry cats and good scavengers. I steered clear of the owners however, having heard their reputation and of the abuse previous complainants had received from them.

Misty as the more adventurous twin had a few test hisses and headbutts but Nelson kept his distance.

One cat they didn't like however was Josephine, sister of Napoleon, a stray who had moved in round at the other house. At the height of our wrangles with his owner we were told that 'his sister 'never strays'. Closer questioning revealed that of course Josephine wasn't his REAL sister, just the other household cat. Well now she does stray into our utility room, she wrecks our bin bags and pinches the grey's food. Naturally they chase her off at every opportunity.

Eventually they started to wander more. Misty has just extended his territory, returning the open space round at the other house and checking all points in between. Nelson sometimes goes with him. When he does they often come back together. When they don't and Misty slips home unnoticed, Nelson forgets where to go and panics. Several times a week, we were losing Nelson and we had to search him out. He was always in the same place on the doorstep of the old house. he shrieked and cried when he saw us but by then worked up into a nervous frenzy as only he can get, he proves difficult to catch and then won't follow us. Several times I have had to carry him home. Once I put him in the car and drove the 200 metres whilst he screamed and cried in the back. He hid for 3 days after that so I wont be repeating the the performance. Sometimes Misty will accompany when I go to fetch Nelson and because of that I discovered one reason for Nelson not coming home. he is afraid of a large ginger tom in the road and alley between the two houses. Misty doesn't even entertain the idea of fear. the ginger tom was stalking Misty from underneath a van the day I saw him. Misty just charged up to him, drawing him out hissing and spitting. Misty headbutted him straight between the eyes, spat and swiped him with a tiny paw. the ginger cat looked astonished and turned to follow us as we passed with a look of ' What the hell was that?' before retreating deep under the van. Now we have to walk Nelson round the long way as he wont go into that road at all, when I carried him once he freaked and cried and struggled, wrestled free and ran off.

A week into living here Goggins disappeared. He too was round at the other house and thus began three weeks of WH each morning at half past seven driving the van round, picking up Goggins in the van and driving him back before he went off to work. Goggins loved the van, he was high up and could see everything. He hated being caged in the car but sitting up on the front seat of the van he seemed to be waving like the Queen, 'Look at me with my own personal driver'. By the last few days he would wait for WH on the corner of the road as though for a bus. even with raging pneumonia he went there every night and stayed. Only the couple of days before he died did he stay home here.

Now Goggins has gone Misty has taken over as WH's personal minder and bodyguard. He sleeps with him and curls up on the sofa with him, following him everywhere in the house. Nelson too has become much more affectionate with WH and more erelaxed. Obviously Goggins, though an old man was till top cat and they deferred to him. Now they are both much more relaxed, other than the time we put a new door on the kitchen.

Originally our kitchen gave out into the utility and there was cat flap on the outside door. As it has become cooler and we still had no heating we put an internal door on the kitchen to keep out the draught from the unfinished utility. For the plan to work however we needed a second cat flap so we could keep the door shut. WH installed the same model as in the outside door but Nelson got confused. He thought his cat flap had moved and he was trapped. It took 4 days for him to get used to it and even then he shot through like rocket in case it grabbed his tail. Misty uses it but doesn't like it and has developed an elaborate ritual of tapping it loudly several times to announce the fact he is coming through. It did seem rather loud so as it as an internal door, WH removed the magnetic edging that seemed to be the cause of the noise. That only made things worse as the slightest breeze caused it to whine like a horror film ghost. Nelson wouldn't use it at all by then preferring to 'ask' us to open the patio doors for him. Eventually after a few days of that charade we replaced the magnet and just left them to it.

Lately Nelson has taken to sitting on the fence in the sun and on top of a pile of paving slabs. He is becoming more aggressive with next door's ginger wimp who disappears at the flash of an eye or a brief hiss. Nelson is becoming more in control. Misty is in control. He keeps an eye on the Skankies and Josephine and has made friends with an elderly major at the top of the road. He visits him in his front garden and sits in the sun on his doorstep. The major is delighted. We however know differently, his real purpose is to stalk the green woodpeckers who frequent the major's garden. So far they have the upper hand, but only time will tell.

So much to do, so little time

It's been hectic round here, mainly because loads of things in the house are now taking shape. By this weekend we will have heating. That will be very welcome. We might also (weather permitting) have a finished patio and garden wall so no longer will we be trailing tons of red sand through the house. Tonight the electrician is coming to fit the fire alarms too, nice not have to look at the bare wires which have been poking through the ceilings for about 8 months now.

Our trip to the Lovely Lyme Doc last week was good. We took the Depressed Painter and he spent the afternoon taking photos of the town centre whist we sat in the consulting rooms. I have been 'discharged' as far as Lyme goes. No more treatment. I just have to get the RA sorted now. It looks like I am stuck with that but then it does run in my family so it may not be Lyme related at all though we suspect the Lyme triggered it.

WH was not so fortunate, he most probably has been bitten at some stage as he has a number of systemic problems which so far the NHS has not addressed or investigated the cause of. He has only ever been treated for the symptoms. (Sound familiar?) So in a weeks time he starts the antibiotic treatment to see if it makes a difference. He's doing it for 3 or 4 months to see what happens. He can't lose anything and he may well gain a lot. Watch this space.

Last week too WH had the dreaded shoulder decompression which so far has been relatively pain free although stopping him from over-using his right arm is more problematic. The only real downside is his depression is worse, he's totally lethargic 50% of the time and very agressive the rest. Even the Grandkids yesterday, playing I-Spy in the car, suggested 'MD' for Miserable Granddad. I seem to be referee most of time in the constant battle between WH and the rest of the world.

Me? I just keep smiling, doing far too much and trying to be 'infant teacher' bright and jolly at all times. Only when I sit here at the desk letting my mind wander do I let my my pasted-on grin slip and wonder if it is all worth it.

Statins again

Picture courtesy of the Alliance for Human Research Protection

I have been overwhelmed by the information sent to me about the problems with statins. Thank you to all the people who did refer me to the right places. Thank you too to my net-friend who has always counselled about their over-promotion and extreme side effects, the inclination for that person to say a big 'I told you so' has so far been ignored and I am grateful for that.

What I have learned though is that these days we can't take anything our medics tell us at face value. I'm not GP bashing here so I hope that NHSblogdoctor doesn't get all irate on me. Our front-line doctors are not specialists that's what they're called GENERAL Practitioners, they are only as good as the information they are given. If the government and Big Pharma is pushing a certain view it is easier and less time consuming to accept that 'wisdom'. I didn't initially think I needed to challenge the advice that WH was given either, and I didn't. Now I have I am shocked.

One piece of my research has really brought the message home. Just watching this was like looking at WH in the litle box, ignoring the northern accent and substituting a deep westcountry burr, is like watching WH in the little tv screen. It could be him up there reciting his experiences. So it looks like this statin problem really has come to haunt us.

It is a sad indictment of these times that patients with complex medical problems now have to research their treatments themselves to ensure that the drugs they are prescribed for 'their own good' are not the cause of much of their wider illness. The drug companies have a stranglehold over the governments, the medics and the public at large the world over and make obscene amounts of money by peddling their 'non cures'. The big question is, how the hell do we stop them?

Happy Birthday to me ?

yes, it's that day again when I turn another year older. I haven't had quite the day I expected but the second half has been pretty good, culminating in a tea party more reminiscent of a five year old's not a fifty something's. The only thing missing was the jelly.

I think from henceforth however, I'm going to ban all family celebrations, as for the last several WH has been ill each time. Today is no exception, he along with oldest step daughter appears to contracting a particularly nasty virus. With his shoulder surgery scheduled in less than a week, it looks like we may be in for a postponement. Sod's law again conspires against us. Maybe not such a good birthday after all.