Axe In Head

Have been coming around this morning feeling as though someone had entered our house and put an axe through my head.

For someone who rarely gets headaches, this bout of a few days is really starting to worry me!

Will I do something about it? Probably not…

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So, What’s There To Talk About?

Hm, you tell me!

There’s just nothing doing at the moment. There are some things I’d like to talk about but can’t really do that on a public platform.

Well one concerns worry for my mum. It always happens at this time of year. The weather is way too hot in Oz at this time of year and my mum really struggles in the conditions. I really CANNOT go back there at the moment, we just do not have the finances. In 2007 I was three weeks away from leaving to go back there, on this day.

There is a secondary desire to get back home…my niece is getting married in four weeks and it would be really nice to be there.

So I’m feeling somewhat down. Feeling like my Oz peeps need me atm, and there’s not a lot I can do about it.

And I’d like to talk, but now I find that is all the talk I have in me. Sorry…

The Noughties (for Fun Monday)

This weeks Fun Monday task was to go back over the personal highs and lows of the noughties. I thought it a good opportunity to reflect on a decade so decided to take part. So here are my personal highs and lows of the last 9 years, eleven months and several days…

The Highs:

* Getting Chrissy in 2000.

She has been one of the best things in the last decade. I needed to have a “substantial” pet. Prior to getting her we had a budgie called Dusty. Although he was lovely bird, a bird hardly equates to a cat. I had a cat in Australia, Tiger and she was my first cat, at 21 years of age, so to find myself without a cat several years later was a bit much to take. But along came Chrissy and all was fine. She’s just had her 10th birthday and I love her more than ever (even though she can drive me up the wall!).

* Home visits to Oz in 2000, 2002, 2003, 2005 and 2007.

Living 12,000 miles away from where I grew up hasn’t been easy at times but regular home visits have helped greatly over the years. I know I’ve been lucky. I’ve had the opportunity to go home five times in the last 10 years and every visit has meant so much. As my mum gets older, the visits have felt more imperative. With the last two visits I was able to stay for several months. It has meant everything to have been able to go home so regularly.

* Winter Christmases and Guy Fawkes/ Halloween fireworks.

When growing up I was always jealous of two things. One, to do with my birthday falling on Halloween (not much significance in Australia when I was growing). The other, to do with the northern hemisphere ideal of a white, wintry Christmas. Well my first year living in the UK both of these jealousies were abated.

I experienced my first “significant” Halloween with a mini celebration at a theme park (it wasn’t good, but the idea of it was). I also experienced Guy Fawkes (bonfire night) for the first time and realised that I could orchestrate the notion of fireworks into my birthday celebrations. Guy Fawkes and Halloween sort of blend into one another here, being less than one week apart. So it’s nice to have the excuse of believing I have fireworks for my birthday 🙂

My first Christmas although not white on the day was very much the northern hemisphere ideal. Cold weather, logs on the fire, lots of food, turkey and the trimmings. Christmas television specials. Two days later there was snow. A good dusting. Crunchy under foot and really cold. I adored it! My first experience of snow. It was heaven!

* Doctor Who returns to television and the discovery of David Tennant.

I was never into Doctor Who when I was growing up. I tried to watch it several times, but could never really take it in. I found it boring. There were things that stood in the way of it ever making a dent on me. It was aired on the ABC (the Australian equivalent of the BBC), which for all us kids equated to naffness and boredom. The only thing we ever watched on the ABC was Countdown (not the Channel 4 quiz show, but a sort of Australian version of Top of the Pops, more or less). Production values of the show itself let it down for me personally as well. It just did not visually appeal to me. Not when there were better sets and more believable looking aliens on an episode of Star Trek, which was, by the time I was trying to watch Doctor Who, some 18 years in the past. There was no way a poor quality British sci-fi programme could ever compete with anything coming from the U.S.

But then it all changed in 2004. Excitement reined as the talk began of a brand new series of Doctor Who being aired on the BBC. The series was shelved in 1989 and there were many Whovians wanting it back on screen. Their wishes were granted.

In 2005 Doctor Who, the new series, began. I felt it was finally an opportunity to see a way in to start watching it. I’ve been (mostly) hooked ever since. I saw most of the 2005 series until I was off to Oz that year. There were a few “let down” episodes. Certainly not in special effects these days, but plot/script let downs. I didn’t really see the series finale as it went to air due to being in Oz. I saw it later and then wasn’t sure I wanted to stick with it. It was reported in the early days that Christopher Eccelston was only going to do one series. I’d enjoyed his doctor greatly and was worried I wouldn’t take to this David Tennant guy (who the hell was he anyway?). But I persevered. I didn’t really like DT at first. The only thing that kept me watching was Billie Piper. Then when it was revealed she’d be leaving the show too, I was starting to not have a great deal of sense in continuing. A couple of turkey episodes towards the end of the series two finale and I was no longer watching.

By the beginning of the 2007 series, I was back in Oz. Em was watching and said it was certainly improving. Billie Piper’s replacement Freema Agymen was good in her role as Martha Jones and something about DT’s performance had improved as well. She sent me over episodes to watch while I was in Oz and I slowly started to get hooked again. By the time I was back home and viewed the series three finale, I was back to where I was at the beginning.

Series four was the best yet. The partnership of DT with Catherine Tate was brilliant. I had my doubts about it at first, as I didn’t really think much of the Christmas special The Runaway Bride in which Catherine Tate had starred.

During series four I had a dream. I was in Oz, telling my sister-in-law how hot I thought David Tennant was! I’d never actually HAD that notion in my head before. I knew there were lots of ladies/girls who thought he was “hot diggety” but I wasn’t one of them. Not until that night anyway! I woke that morning thinking “OMG, yes. He is HOT, isn’t he?” And I’ve been a total DT fangirl ever since. I’ve seen just about every other piece of acting work he’s ever done.

Of course, the noughties end with the culmination of DT’s time as the Doctor. New Year’s Day sees the last episode of Doctor Ten and the end of DT’s rein (where ARE the Kleenex?).

* Getting into bird-watching and the birds “saving” me.

In 2006, around the spring, I went into a deep depression. I saw absolutely no purpose to life whatsoever. I found myself questioning my reason for being here and was frequently coming up short of answers (obviously there are none as my final conclusion theorised). I’d wake up, then stare out the bedroom window wondering why I was awake. The only thing(s) that helped me through were birds. I’d watch them in the tree, on the feeders, on the ground, flying by, thinking “what a life, eh?”. I was envious of them and loved watching them get up their bird antics. I bought a book on bird-feeding and read through it and started to try and memorise all the species I’d see in the garden, learn about them as a species and try and get to know individual birds that visited. Very hard to do with birds like robins, blue tits and goldfinches as they are uniformly similar. I shall talk of them more when it comes to the tree chopping. But their role in helping me with my depression was no small one, so thank you all my little feathered friends.

* Our 10th Wedding Anniversary in 2008.

March 21st, 2008 brought in our 10th wedding anniversary. We went on a few days break, as is tradition with most our other anniversaries. We went to Leicester (it was killing two birds with one stone) and then to Birmingham. I’d bought tickets for us to see U2:3D at the Imax cinema there. It wasn’t the “trip of a lifetime” or anything, but there were elements that made it very special.

* Going bankrupt in 2008.

It was traumatic, no doubt. But there was a positive element to it. It meant we were now debt free. The thing that kept drowning us was the fact we were in so much debt, had so little money and therefore just kept on getting into more and more debt, propping ourselves up. With the debt off our backs, for the first time in years we’ve been able to regulate our finances properly. It’s been heaven.

The Lows:

* Em’s job loss and mental illness 2001-present.

I don’t want to dwell on this too much. Obviously you don’t want to spend too much time on the “lows” of the decade (well I don’t) so I’ll keep it brief. Em was working at a school as the Network Manager and was suffering from anxiety. The job was stressing her out. Long days and little holidays, stupid teachers and other staff with no I.T. skills, destructive students and the endless churn of “fixing” Windoze machines made the job never-ending. She suffered a breakdown over the Christmas holiday of 2001/2002 and was reluctant to go back to work until she felt better.

Under pressure to return to work and not feeling able, Em resigned her position in April 2002. I suppose it left her free to be home with me while I recovered from my whooping cough…

Illness overwhelmed her. She tried to look for work, but it was obvious the school’s head had a vendetta against Em. It culminated in Em being offered a position at a school in Harpenden that was mysteriously retracted 48 hours later.

And if you don’t mind, I’ll leave that there. Suffice it to say that recovery is slow and in some respects still ongoing. Full recovery might never come to fruition.

* My Whooping Cough in 2002.

It was Valentine’s Day, 2002. We were in Bristol. There was a production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast on at the Hippodrome and I *HAD* to go and see it. It was VERY cold at the time (Obviously! It was the middle of Feb.) and I had got a little snuffly and had a tickling throat. I remember coughing quite a bit during the performance, feeling self-conscious.

Over the next few days, I got progressively worse. I went to the doctors and was told I had a chest infection. I was having difficulty breathing and was coughing almost constantly. My throat felt constantly ticklish and after a while I could no longer lay down. I had to stay seated. Then I was starting to cough so much I lose my breath. It was SO scary. We had booked tickets at the end of 2001 to go to Oz in March. The time was getting close. Oz was just a week away.

I went to the doctors again. Still diagnosed with chest infection. Antibiotics were prescribed. I couldn’t keep them down. I was having coughing attacks several times an hour. I kept purging up clear liquid. It wasn’t vomit. I couldn’t eat or drink anything. I was surviving on ONE bowl of cereal a day and water. I couldn’t drink anything else, it would induce a coughing spell, as did eating. Any medication I tried to take came back up instantly. If I sneezed, I had an attack. If I tried to lay down, I had an attack. If I laughed, I had an attack. I was SO worried I was going to stop breathing and die. I was scared witless. Not being able to breath is the SCARIEST thing.

I couldn’t back out of going to Oz. We’d lose the money from buying the tickets. I wasn’t going to miss going. I was as sick as a dog.

I lasted the plane journey. I was couching SO much. I’m sure other passengers were FREAKING out at how much I was coughing. I managed to sleep quite a bit, for a change, not being able to recline very well in an economy seat was a bonus. We got to my mums house and I looked like death. Nights were spent “sleeping” upright on her lounge. Then about 3-4 days into our stay, I had a massive coughing attack, stopped breathing and loss consciousness on my mums kitchen floor.

I went to my mums doctor the next day. Had the first blood test I’d ever had in my life. He suspected I had whooping cough. Whooping cough? Only babies get that, don’t they? I was thinking to myself. Well, seemingly not, because the blood test confirmed that was exactly what I had! It certainly explained why I was coughing so much and my loss of breath. God knows how much longer it would have stayed undiagnosed if I’d kept going to my UK doctor.

Mum’s doc said it was beyond the point of treatment, that it would ride itself out from this point. I was given steroids and asthma inhalers to help speed up my recovery. By the time we were leaving Oz I was starting to feel better. I was finding breathing easier and the coughing was slowly subsiding.

After a couple more weeks I was able to go back to bed properly (IE: start laying down to sleep again). I still had attacks, but they were more spasmodic and spurred on by trying to eat something that I wasn’t quite ready for, sneezing or laughing. It took me MONTHS to be able to sneeze or laugh without inducing a coughing spell. It was about 9 months before I had my first proper belly laugh that didn’t make me cough.

It was a long recovery process and a very scary illness. I’d never want to go through that ever again!

* Moving house in 2003 into a one-bedroom “rabbit hutch”.

We loved living at Birchen Grove. It was the first place I’d moved into since leaving home. Despite some hassles with the place like extremely cold winters due to archaic Economy 7 heating (heating that only goes on overnight that can’t be turned on again during the day), a busy road where there was nowhere to park (bound to happen on road full of maisonettes), a tiny kitchen that was a bit useless and useless secondary double-glazed windows, the positives outweighed them.

It was affordable rent-wise, it was a two-bedroom place (plenty of space for us), the road WAS busy but filled with a sense of community, we were closer to the town centre and to Em’s parents.

Then in the early summer of 2003, we were asked to move. The landlord wanted to sell and we’d have until the end of our latest tenancy agreement (mid August) to move. One upside to agreeing was we got our deposit back (which we REALLY needed to even afford a move). The downside was because we were “dossers” we didn’t have much choice on what we could look at. Rental prices had shot up in the time we were at Birchen Grove. Our rent at the time was £360 a month and while searching we weren’t finding anything similar under £475.

Then we looked at this place which, while empty, looked spacious despite only being one bedroom. The rent was £500 a month, which was a BIG difference to us. We were downsizing space, but paying MORE for the privilege. It hardly made sense. Thank goodness in the six years we’ve lived here we’ve not had ONE rent increase.

It wasn’t until a few weeks after we moved in really it hit us just how SMALL this place is. We still have boxes of things at Em’s parents place that we have just never had the room to bring round. It went from “nice place” to “depressing rabbit-hutch” within about 3 weeks. I dealt with it okay, initially, but Em was like a caged animal in it from the start.

It now depresses us both to hell, but it does have a few positives. The utilities are cheap…erm…erm…that’s about it. Oh, we live by the countryside and get bats and hedgehogs! That’s good 🙂

* My depression in 2006.

Eluded to with the birds entry. 2006 was a struggle for me. I didn’t think I’d see the other side of it. I was so low. It’s not something I really want to go into much more detail about. Suffice it to say it happened and I got out the other side. I really don’t know how I got out of it. I went to Oz in early 2007 with it still looming over me. Perhaps the distractions of being back in Oz helped me get over it. It certainly wasn’t Oz itself that took it away.

* Going bankrupt in 2008.

It was frightening but it needed to be done. I never knew until we did it that you need MONEY to go bankrupt! You have to pay a court fee of £375 – EACH. We got a discount for going bankrupt together though (!), but it only saved us 100 pounds. I say “us” but we were SO skint we had to borrow the money to go bankrupt. Life is just sick!

It was a very stressing several weeks for us to get all the paperwork in place, show up in court and get the thing done. But to put rest to the amount of debt we’d accumulated, particularly within the last two years before going bankrupt, was heaven sent.

* Mozzy’s health problems 2009.

During the summer, Em’s mum Mozzy suffered a mild cardiac arrest. She was hospitalised for a week, had various tests performed on her and was sent home with more medication than she’s ever had to take in the rest of her life combined.

She’s also suffering from Alzheimer’s which is getting progressively worse.

* The tree being chopped down 2009.

It really was like losing a friend. I was in mourning. I knew all the birds that visit would leave. They all loved the tree so much. It was their little safe haven between feeds at the feeder station. It brought in robins, dunnocks, blue tits, great tits, long-tailed tits, even a jay once! My favourite birds it helped to attract were Mr and Mrs B, a male and female blackbird. They were our resident birds. We’d see them most days. “Blackbirds all look the same”, I hear you say, “how could you tell they were yours?” Well, here’s the thing you see. I can’t be sure about Mrs B, because she had no distinguishing features, but she was always with Mr B – who DID have. He had a white spot on his left wing. He was all black, apart from this white fleck, so I always knew it was him.

They were a funny couple and earlier this year they had chicks. I could see both of them frantically looking one day for one of their little youngsters. They were good parents and reared two little ones that were visiting the garden in the summer. It was the last hurrah. Now the tree is gone we have hardly a visit. Mr and Mrs B left altogether. No more blue tits. I’ve seen a robin on the odd occasion, but they never stay. Although the feeders are still in place and well stocked, without the tree, our garden hasn’t the enticement it used to. We still get the odd goldfinch or two, but again the visits are fleeting. The only birds that continue to come here are wood pigeons. And they went through the most heartache as one of the neighbours took down their conifers and the pigeons used them for sanctuary. Lost pigeons flew around the rooftops for days after, wondering where their houses went. It was awful. I miss all my little feathered friends.

R.I.P Tree

A photo slideshow montage of my noughties highs and lows.

The Weymouth Way.

Hmm. What an interesting (if only) adventure that was!

The night before, we were doing some last minute packing, etc, when I could feel my left heel starting to play up really badly. It’s been like it for weeks. The ball of my left heel gets PAINFULLY sore, like I’ve got an Achilles tendon or gout or something. After a while I can hardly walk and look like a hobbling old invalid. Obviously, the longer I’m on my feet, the worse it gets. It can even be painful when I’m sitting if I have no way of keeping my leg elevated or manoeuvrable. I think it was brought on by compensating so much for my right leg when my knee was at it’s most painful.

Anyway, I could feel the pain coming on and went to bed with a dull thud in my left heel. Unsurprisingly I woke early next morning to put my foot on the floor and feel instant pain. “Oh fabulous! Thanks! We’re off to Weymouth today!” I was thinking.

We were up before the crack of dawn at 5am. We were like zombies. We had barely four hours sleep. Well I did anyway. Em might have got an extra hour. We had a cup of tea, got changed, fed the fish, made sure Chris’ food was plentiful and her water clean, then we called a cab.

I was really nervous and apprehensive, partly because I was worried things (the coach, the tube, the train to Weymouth) wouldn’t match, but mostly because my foot was already aching. We were on the coach and leaving Luton airport at 7am. It all looked smooth on the motorway (small mercies) and we ended up at Victoria station in plenty of time. Luckily, as Victoria was HEAVING with rush-hour commuters. We had to wait for the 3rd train to come by before we could even board! We had to change lines to get to Waterloo at Westminster, which was a *little* quieter, thankfully.

We were at Waterloo by 9.10am and the train to Weymouth was leaving at 10.05, so we refueled. We had a strawberry yoghurt each, and Em had an apple (she was extra peckish) and I had a lovely M&S vanilla and maple syrup smoothie.

We were on the train by 9.53 waiting to go!

It was a surprisingly pleasant journey down. The train was really lovely. Comfy, roomy seats, nice staff, a good, clean toilet. A nice quiet carriage, apart from a bloke directly behind us wheeling and dealing on TWO mobile phones. All you could hear when he called someone was him saying “can you hear, can you hear me?” and then him hang up and try his OTHER mobile! God knows what network he was on. A crap one by all accounts! He finally left the train at Bournemouth. Peace, at last!

We arrived in Weymouth at 1pm and the sun was shining. We headed straight for beach front. It was nice. Not as shingled as Brighton, but not entirely sandy like I thought it would be. There was quite a number of people around on the beach for a Thursday and for October 1st. It was a bit mild, around 20 degrees. There were even a few men with their shirts off (all over 50, so there wasn’t really anything worth gawking at!)!

We slowly (we had to, my foot was stuffed by now) made our way to the Premier Inn we were staying at. Em kept thinking we had to be on the road and kept worrying we’d overshoot or go too far, despite my reassurances. And despite me forgetting to take a map to show the way from the station to the motel, we found it easy enough. It was amazingly close to the beach front. No sea views, which I wasn’t expecting anyway, but the beach was only a few minutes walk away. Luckily for me, as I wouldn’t have got to enjoy any of the beach front at all otherwise.

We settled into our room, had a cup of tea and then went to the restaurant next door to eat. It’s a pub food chain called Brewer’s Fayre. We used to go there a lot when we had a car. Our nearest one is not really accessible via public transport, so we haven’t been to one in years.

We filled up our bellies and went back to the room. I was knackered by now. I was tired, bloated from eating, and my foot was at its worst. I stayed in the motel while Em went back off to the town centre for a gander, take some shots and find a few provisions for later.

Having been so knackered sleep eluded me until late in the evening, around midnight. I read from about 10.30pm onwards in the hope it would help me drift off. I didn’t fully wake the next morning until around 9.45am. Once I’d gone to sleep, I’d slept like a log.

With my foot the way it was, I had no plans to do anything that day other than eat! We eventually moved our butts out about midday. Well, I moved mine. Em had already been off and into the town centre again in the mean time. We spent an hour or so on the beach (well, more accurately, on a bench BY the beach), then we went to the Brewer’s Fayre again. Last time Em had a cheese and onion pasty with mash and baked beans, and I had gammon, eggs, chips and peas. This time, Em was going to have the only meal she normally has when we go to Brewer’s Fayre (they’re not normally fab with the vegie meals Em likes, they’ve had the odd thing she likes – like the cheese and onion pasty for example), fish and chips, and I had the most GORGEOUS liver and onions, with bacon, mash and peas, in a giant square Yorkshire pudding! And afters, Em had an caramel apple crumble cake with ice cream, and I had a banoffee waffle with pouring cream. Divine! We were so stuffed (again), we spent the afternoon (and the rest of day, admittedly) in the motel room.

Em was starting to feel the effects of a head cold. I was hoping we could go to the Sea Life centre next door as a last day treat, but of course Miss Tight-wad almost went into cardiac arrest when she heard adult tickets were £17 each. A Sea Life visit was looking VERY unlikely. I felt rested, but my foot was not any better. Miss Cardiac-Arrest had a horrible nights sleep trying to breathe with her head cold.

Last day we had to be out of the motel by midday. We were out by 10.30am and my foot was feeling better initially. We walked along the beach front into the town centre. Looked through some of the shops, realised we had HOURS to kill before our 5pm train, so decided to see a film. The weather wasn’t conducive to being on the beach. It had gotten chilly in 48 hours, and was now 15 degrees and blowing a gale! It was also overcast and drizzling with rain on and off.

We had a fish and chip lunch, then went and saw Creation, the film about Darwin completing The Origin of Species. It was a good film. The plot wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was quite sad, but wonderfully done. There was a kleenex moment for both of us. Nice bit of irony when we paid for the tickets, little vouchers offering 2 for 1 tickets to Sea Life with a cinema ticket! Oh how I laughed – not!

After we came out of the cinema, there was STILL time to kill, so we wandered a bit. Sat in the local library before it shut, then went to the station just after 4pm. The train was already on the platform, so by 4.25 we were already seated, waiting to get back to Waterloo. Not as nice a journey home. The carriage was quite full, and there were a few Saturday night revellers getting on and off, and the toilet was small and there was urine on the floor – always nice!

We got to Waterloo at 7.50pm and the fun hadn’t quite finished yet. Of course we had to get back Victoria. We were going to go back the way we came, which meant a trip on the Jubilee line to Westminster, and then from there on the District and Circle line to Victoria. Only problem was, the Jubilee line was closed!!! Flipping hell! So we had to change our route. We had to go on the Bakerloo line to Embankment (which is MILES further underground than Jubilee – it’s like a mile just to get to the Bakerloo platforms FFS!) and then from there on the District and Circle back to Victoria!

I was about ready to collapse when we got to Victoria. We had some food there, then got on the coach back to Luton. From there, a quick cab ride back home. We were back at home around 10.45pm and as we were scrabbling for the keys I was saying to Em “I can hear something that sounds scarily like one of our fire alarms.” Lo and behold when we opened the front door, the wailing became louder. Sure enough, it was one of ours! Fig! It took Em a minute or so to turn the damn thing off. Chris was nowhere to be seen. God knows how long the flipping thing had been activated. Hopefully not 15 minutes after we left.

We eventually found Chris cowered under the sofa. Poor sweetheart, she was as jumpy as anything for the next few hours, poor baby girl 😦

A fitting crescendo. Still, it was time away. I was hoping to see a few different birds down there, but all I saw were gulls. Gulls, gulls and even more flippin’ gulls!

Pictures will be put online soon.

Apathetic Lethargy.

I haven’t been spending much time on the Internet of late (as you might have been able to tell). I haven’t even updated my blog too regularly (oh, the irony) recently either.

I’m just counting the days until Weymouth. I didn’t realise until I booked it just how much I’m longing for a trip away. I feel like I’m sort of on hold until I go. Apathy and lethargy (well one could argue I’ve ALWAYS had the lethargy) are setting in and I don’t really want them to.

I suppose the non interest in the Internet is sort of spurred on by my “nothing to report” status. I haven’t really updated twitter or Facebook much lately. I’m just at home all the time, lulling about, doing not much. Maybe I’m just a bear readying herself for hibernation?

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The weather has turned quite cool in the last 48 hours. You can feel autumn in the air. I’m really not ready for it this year! It doesn’t feel like we’re going to have any kind of Indian summer, so it’s going to make the autumn and winter a LOOONG drawn out season to go through. Any other time I’d cope, but this year was such a non-start with summer, I don’t think I’m going to cope well with a long drawn out winter.

Even the things I normally look forward to, my birthday, Guy Fawkes night (November 5th), are filling me with dread this year. I’m going to be 39. Not much to cheer about there, and with no car to get us to a display, fireworks on November 5th are hardly going to cheer me up. This year it feels like the death knell.

Anyway, this has descended into something quite dark (for me anyway) and I just was writing to say I was alive (in theory) but that there were not many creative juices flowing in me lately and that our time in Weymouth just cannot come soon enough!

I Have A Wii!

I’m slowing becoming a gadget princess! It’s the beauty of “buy now, pay July 2010”. This is DEFINITELY my last gadget purchase of the year!

I got a Nintendo Wii yesterday with Wii Sports included. I also bought Animal Crossing: City Folk, but that doesn’t arrive until Thursday.

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Wii Sports is FUN! But it really DOES give you a workout! There are several sports to play: 10 pin bowling, tennis, baseball, golf and boxing. The bowling is fun. I started on that first. Then I attached the numchuck to the Wii remote and tried boxing. Man, that WAS a workout! I was getting right into it and was buffed out. I lost my first fight – I was KO’ed. Em says to me “let me have a go?” and handed over the equipment to her. She floored her opponent in seconds!!!

I played tennis and that was pretty hard as well. Then I played golf last night.

My arms are KILLING me this morning! I can hardly move them! I can see that I’ll get good exercise from it. I’m really, really loving it so far 🙂

Tumble Down Teds.

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culprits, originally uploaded by Larelle_M_R.

At around 8.45am on Thursday morning, I fell down the stairs. I could feel myself falling, but there was no way to stop the propulsion when it happened. I felt every little bump and mishap on the way down. I could also hear every second of Em’s “Oh, oooh, poor Teds!” commentary on the way down. When I finally got to the bottom, I was on my back and feeling quite trapped. Em was right above me, checking how I was which was making me feel a little claustrophobic. I could feel I’d hurt my knee and my elbow. I started crying – more from frustration and shock that it happened to me, rather than because I was feeling badly injured.

After a couple of minutes, I managed to get up.. My knee felt badly twisted, and when I sat down on the sofa, pain surged through my right knee area. I elevated my leg on a foot stool to try and stop it hurting so much, and took two ibuprofen tablets.

My mum called shortly after to ask if I could arrange a grocery delivery for her online, as she was signing off (she was going to call back in an hour to do the shopping), I started to cry again. Obviously she was concerned and then I had to explain that I’d just falling down the stairs. Poor mum. I had her worried as hell when I started crying! I reassured her I was okay, apart from my knee.

Shortly afterwards I needed the toilet, so had to try and stand (and negate the stairs again). I actually felt better standing up than I did when seated. I took that as a good sign. The stairs were okay to negate going up, but not so nice coming down. I took my time! But because I can’t lift my right leg up too much, it sort of makes coming back down the stairs more painful.

My first nights sleep was quite painful. I couldn’t really get my leg in a good position. I normally sleep on my stomach or left side. I was kind of okay sleeping on my left side, but couldn’t sleep on my tummy – which REALLY pissed me off. I did try, but my leg really didn’t like being in that position, so I’d have to go back to be on my left side and it would KILL moving my leg!

Last night my sleep was a bit more comfortable, even though I still couldn’t lay on my stomach. I used a pillow to help prop my leg up when on my back or on my left side.

I haven’t got my leg so elevated today. I’ve also successfully negated having a shower as well, so that’s making me feel better.

It might take maybe a week to 10 days to really recover, but I think my knee will without me needing any medical treatment.

Small mercies…

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I also grazed my left elbow on the way down and bruised it. It only feels sore if I move it awkwardly. The graze is drying out and hurts if I fold my elbow up fully (IE: close my arm into my chest), but it’s fine compared to my right knee.