Thursday, 28 August 2014

Shoulder Surgery.

Cutting chopping and dicing set for tomorrow, Friday 29th August.
I'm so looking forward to it. The nurse told me not to expect to be able to sleep in a bed for some time... And told me the aftermath is notoriously painful. I replied that I have a good vocabulary of swear-words at the ready.
I also have a lot of books. At least half a week's worth.
After that Amazon gets my money or I watch all those rubbish movies I never got around to before.

And I confess I've been wasting time on Facebook, it has its uses,  but I hate to tell some of the people who pop up and try to friend me, that if we've not been in touch for years, I'm probably not going to want to see every little update....

Once, about twenty years ago I broke my left arm just below the shoulder. It was in a cast for a couple of months, set with a 90 degree elbow position. Never having bust a limb before, I glibly thought that the day the cast came off, life would resume as normal. What an idiot. The cast came off and I gazed at an arm so hairy I thought I was becoming a gorilla, and then... nothing. Elbow stayed at 90 degrees. Stuck there. Muscles disappeared tendons shrunk... No amount of force would straighten it out. And there was a bend where the bone was set.  Took another two months before it was moderately normal again.

Now I'm going to have to learn to live left handed.  It should keep me from boredom, but. Anyway, it's a minor problem compared to some, that others face. I'll try not to moan too much.

My blogreaders will barely notice the difference. I do mean to post stuff. just left handedly.
Sinistrally.

Thursday, 24 July 2014

Humerus? Not so funny, really....


Today, I had an interesting experience.  Just before we moved from the old house, I had become aware of a shoulder injury, pain, ache, restriction of movement. so I treated it with ibuprofen, tried not to do the ouchy stuff, like lifting my arm high or rotating it outward, assuming whatever I'd done while shifting heavy boxes and furniture would heal on its own. 5+ months  later, I'm forced to admit that it won't.
So I went to see a doctor, and was referred to a sports medicine clinic, where after examination and x-rays, I was told I have a displaced shoulder joint, caused by a rotator-cuff injury.


So today I was having an MRI scan, to show the exact nature and extent of the damage.
First (well, after a clipboard worth of forms and an eye-watering financial transaction), I was
positioned under an x-ray machine, while a doctor pumped my shoulder joint full of a gadolinium contrast fluid. There was some anaesthesia too, so the needle sliding into the shoulder joint capsule was not too bad, but it's wearing off now and I'd like to bite somebody.
But the MRI.... Magnetic Resonance Imaging... Essentially, you're shoved into a very small hole in a large doughnut. And surrounded by a humongously powerful magnetic field It's certainly powerful enough to suck steel furniture in...




 Pictures via http://simplyphysics.com/flying_objects.html

You are carefully positioned, warned that it's noisy, given earplugs and industrial earmuffs, the operator leaves the room, and a noisy chaos begins. I was told that about ten percent of people are so claustrophobic they can't tolerate it. Well, I've been a plumber. I've gone through holes in floors, walls and ceilings, where there's no room to turn round or roll over.  And I've weaseled myself into tight spaces under vehicles and in engine bays, where despite not being able to move much, I've been trying to weld, or undo a gearbox's bolts. 
So, as the magnetic field oscillated my hydrogen atoms, for what seemed a long time, I was drowsing and comfortably musing about all manner of unimportant trivia.
This procedure was quite untroubling, if you're ever referred for one, it's not something to be scared of.

The scan results will go straight to my doctor, and in a couple of days I should get an appointment to find out what's next. But, he's already told me, it'll probably mean surgery. 

Sigh.

In the meantime, more ibuprofen and on with the painting of walls!

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

The Sirens of Titan.

"The Sirens of Titan" was the title of a science fiction novel by Kurt Vonnegut, first published in 1959... so are the days of future past.

Al Stewart

I was drawn by the sirens of Titan
Carried along by their call
Seeking for a way to enlighten
Searching for the sense of it all
Like a kiss on the wind I was thrown to the stars
Captured and ordered in the army of Mars
Marching to the sound of the drum in my head
I followed the call
Only to be Malachi Constant
I thought I came to this earth
Living in the heart of the moment
With the riches I gained at my birth
But here in the yellow and blue of my days
I wander the endless Mercurian caves
Watching for the signs the Harmonians make
The words on the walls

I was drawn by the sirens of Titan
And so I came in the end
Under the shadow of Saturn
With statues and birds for my friends
Finding a home at the end of my days
Looking around I've only to say
I was the victim of a series of accidents
As are we allI was drawn by the sirens of Titan (as are we all)
As are we all
I was drawn by the sirens of Titan (as are we all)
As are we all...





Wednesday, 16 July 2014

Curses! Foiled again!

via Laughing Squid...



("Curses! Foiled Again!" was a catchphrase for Muttley's sidekick, 'Rick Rastardly' Hehehehehe!)

Saturday, 21 June 2014

I Preferred The Older Minute.

 If you're not British, you'll probably be better advised not to bother reading this post. Just as I often don't get the references my american blogger friends make to things have been  part of everyday life in the U.S.,  you probably will frown and think it's not funny at all.

On my sidebar, there's a link to Adullamite's blog. Recently he was bemoaning the decay of the BBC Radio panel-game, "Just a Minute".
The idea is simple. A panel of four guests  are challenged to speak for 'just a minute' on some diverse subject, without 'Hesitation, Repetition, or Deviation'. It's harder than you might think. Back in the days when I regularly listened, regulars panellists were Clement Freud, Derek Nimmo, Kenneth Williams.
Current ones, Paul Merton, Julian Clary....
I listen occasionally via the BBC's web app.

And I agree with Adullamite, I think the current crop of contributors are sadly lacking,  and would be pulverised if they were to play against their predecessors.

Here's a little vintage British radio:











Sunday, 15 June 2014

Nifty!


Every Saturday night, just north of Houston, Texas, there's a car gathering called 'Niftee 50ees', at the junction of Kuykendahl and Louetta.
It's open to any vehicle from before 1979, I think. Everything from an Oldsmobile Curved Dash of 1902 to the great muscle cars of the seventies, plus custom cruisers,  hot-rods, chopped and channeled sleds,  trucks, vans...





















Having an old, square, Land Rover, of course, I like to take part, -though really the emphasis is on home-grown metal, there are a few foreign imports.
I open the bonnet....(hood, for my American readers), to show my non-chromed, non V8, non-hemi-headed, non 427 cubic inch, trivial 4 cylinder engine. I see it as a refreshing palate-cleanser, akin to a glass of cold home-made lemonade, for all those poor folk overdosed on detroit chromium.

 People think my Land Rover is a Jeep... No, these are Jeeps....



They raise money for charity, the local fire crew brings a truck for kids little and large to goggle at, the height of excitement for many a child is to be allowed to sound that big chromed bell.









Entry for the public to browse: Free!
To show a vehicle? $10:00.

I'm not there every week, because because even a knucklehead like me would get bored.  But the number and nature of cars there is ever varying.
Then there's 'Cars and Coffee', at Market Street in The Woodlands, every first Sunday of the month, from early o'clock to Eleven a.m.
I'm amazed at the number of people who own old cars here.

Thursday, 5 June 2014

The Last Leviathan......




Siggy Stern, singing a beautiful song, by Andy Barnes, recorded and better known by the Dubliners, Siggy, to me, does a better job.

Not a recording artist, she has uploaded a few songs to YouTube.
This song came to mind when I was viewing a post by 'Nag on the Lake' about a dutch painting, that in restoration was found to have originally featured a beached whale.

The Lost Whale