Broken legs

I put up the post concerning my bike accident more as Something To Do whilst laid on a bed provided courtesy of the NHS, but I've suddenly realised I've got many weeks of free hours until I'm properly on the mend, so I'm using this to fill a few of those.

It's another of those things in life that come along to test you - some fuckwit is rolling a dice, pointing and cackling.

The major inconvieniences:

Anything that's not within arms reach might as well be in next doors shed. It's going to require a major amount of shuffling between wheelchair etc.

Objects left on the ground or blocking corridors will fuck your day up like nothing else.

You need to become memory man - there's nothing quite like getting comfortable on the sofa then realising you've left your piss jug in the bedroom.

The pain of the injuries can, some days, be nothing as compared to the sheer hell your muscles will go through when left in one position. If possible, change it every so often, at least once an hour.

Physio, no matter how painful, is absolutely essential. In my case, I've got a right leg with a nailed femur but no pot. The sooner you get this up and running, the faster your consultant is going to get you on crutches, which means an escape from being prone. Overdo it if need be - that leg needs to be superhuman in a few weeks time.

Drink past the point of being comfortable; your body needs to be very well hydrated for the healing process.

Give up smoking - optional, and arsing hard, but it will speed up the healing.

That's it for now!

Two broken legs

Had a rather drastic motorcycle accident, so for my own peace of mind, it’s probably best to put it down on “paper”, so here goes....

On the way back from visiting my grandad at the hospital, it’s somewhere around 3:30pm. Approaching Wainfleet and heading into Skegness, SILVER CAR TURNS WITHOUT WARNING...on the roadside, screaming for help, with the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt in both legs. I look over my shoulder, neither leg is pointing in the correct direction. A witness is sat next to me by the road, holding my hand, with me bellowing at her to phone Katie and tell her what’s happened.

The rest is a blur, I remember the ambulance crew arriving,but nothing about the ride to the hospital. I do remember, very strongly, being held down whilst both legs are set into a vaguely human posture whilst sucking on gas and air. All the bones in my legs seem to be grating against each other like sharp chisels.

The next few days were a blur of morphine, drugs, no rock and roll. Visitors came and went in dreamlike fashion.

Slowly recovering now, broken right femur (nailed and pinned) radial fracture of the tibia in my left leg. Femur op was blissful relief, tibia op was horrifically painful when coming to.

I’m now up and about in a wheelchair, with a modicum of self reliance. I can wheel my chair, I can transfer to a commode. No weight bearing for a long time yet, at least 6 months until I’m walking anywhere near normally.

It’s been 3 weeks in hospital so far, although I should be going home next week at some point. Seems I got thrown into the air on impact, then under the car. I’m feeling remarkably lucky that I will, eventually, walk again. Above all, I feel lucky to have such an exceptional wife and supportive family.

Wet dogs and a bit loved up

On a bit of a post-weekend high, so it's time to bore everybody shitless.

Just aired out Marks room - him and his mates got caught in a rain storm up on the beach, then came back to watch a movie. It now smells like a wet dog drying by the fire, with underlying tones of teenage boy. If you could bottle it, you could sell it as visitor repellent. Just spray on your front door, guaranteed effective on both cold callers and balliffs.

*VOMIT ZONE - bags provided*

Met a girl called Katie a few weeks back, just had the third superb weekend with her. Love everything about her - she's all beautiful big smiles, very outgoing and a whole ant colony's worth of industrious; rocks my boat every which way. Brilliant with my family and my kids, so far I've not found ANYTHING I dislike about her. No evidence of advanced psychosis, very affectionate, great fun to be around. It's like having my best mate curled up to me. I'm very, very, very impressed :)

*END OF VOMIT ZONE*

Back to work! WOO!

My god, it's been weeks since I last blogged! Either life's become so uninteresting it's not worth writing about or so much has been happening that I've not had the time. Bit of both I reckon, comes from a lack of routine; everything happens in fits and starts.

Finally, back to work! I've got my old job back with Ramco, so I'm back to back breaking hard work and a face plastered with oil and muck. In other words, happy as a kid in a sandpit who's just been shown how to make mud.

No more fits, the meds have kicked in nicely. I'm no longer headbutting inanimate objects (unless you count the bloke from the pub last friday, but he was definetly moving), my skull no longer looks like a budget remake of The Elephant Man and I can cross the road without making sure I've got plenty of momentum beforehand.

That's 3 months in total of unemployment and not something I want to repeat EVER. I've got my head into everything with plenty of interests, but there're only so many ways to fill seven days before you start repeating yourself. A little like Groundhog Day, except I don't get to snog Andie Macdowell at the end.

Ok, joined up on Faceparty again, after a long break (because it's a soulless cattle market) and already the spam's started. Read this message for an example....

"Hi my new friend. My name is Kristina. I am 27 years old. Let me introduce myself... I like warm and tender sea. My room is like a green garden. On mornings I lay in bed and like to dream. I think I am sentimental and I like to cry on a romantic drama, but sometimes love to laugh a lot and hardly sarcastic. When I play with children I feel like a child. I suppose I am a sufficient house-keeper. From time to time I just take cooking book or recipes of my mum and prepare something especial. I can't stand disorder in the house, and if I notice anything that seems to be in the wrong place. I am a creative by nature and capable on Self-feedback, it depends on the situation. I hope that I have made a good impression on you, and you can not pass such a girl as me. So I hope that we both can find common things. Well what? Let's check up. Write me on my email kristinachkaa@gmail.com and i sent my picture to you in my reply to you. Hope to hear from you soon, Kristina."

Apparently, she's like a warm and tender sea. What? Stinks of salt and fish? And if her room's like a green garden, she really needs to get around to washing the sheets, even if it's on an irregular basis. Even more sinister..."When I play with children I feel like a child"....now, statements like that over here are likely to earn you 8 years and several serious beatings, luv! And "recipes of my mum"....do I ask for a tender piece of breast or a big 'ol serving of Old Lady Buttock?!

Rule One on the World Wide Weird: If you're going to scam, don't pick random words out of the dictionary; learn the lingo and put the effort in. If there's anything that sticks in the throat worse than a scammer, it's one that can't even be arsed to put the effort in.

Rule Two: Get someone well versed in English to read the final result before you post it. If said person informs you that you sound like a raggedy nailed forthy lunatic, take note.

Ginger beards and strings

The picture at left....the first thing I saw on Saturday morning. If you see this lurking in your bedroom door in the wee hours, you really have drunk too much beer and need to re-affirm your lifestyle. He kipped at my place with the girl he picked up; he did some very adult things on my BLACK sofa bed.I'm still in two minds on whether or not to drag it outside and torch it.

It's 9:30 in the evening and for some reason I'm feeling really bouncy and chirpy. It's not a good way to be at this time in the evening, personally speaking I'd rather be feeling lethargic yet relaxed and at peace with the world. Something tells me I'm not going to be sleeping well tonight!

Today has been Guitar Day - I usually get some playing in every day because things start to slip if the practice stops. The regime today; loosened off the truss rod in the Prince acoustic, because the string action's gone finger snappingly high. Playing should be a happy experience, not something that's liable to leave me with chronic RSI. Wanted to drop the action on the electric as well, but not got an allen key small enough to fit, so that'll have to wait till the weekend. Cyndi Lauper's Time after Time is now down pat, as are the opening bars to Stone Sours Zyzzyx Road (horribly technical and requiring the growth of extra fingers on the left hand).

The tips of my left hand are now rock hard again, of which I'm obscenely proud even if it does feel wierd and freaky when you stroke 'em :)

The Wicker Dog

I don't learn many lessons throughout the average day, but right up at number one I'm going to put "don't set fire to police sniffer dogs". Big crack down around SkegVegas on Saturday night, police were out in abundance, replete with girl friendly border collie (rather than man eating German Shepherd). Here's me and the Waynster, minding out own business in the V-Bar. Obviously, with shaven heads and that "most likely to be arrested" look about us, we're chosen as the first to have our groins sniffed by another species. Dog goes behind me for my back pockets, catches the end of my fag and stands there dumbly with its snout raising a cloud of burning hair. Cue me and one of said coppers slapping the dog on the head trying to put it out. The policeman was in no way pleased with me. Not aided or abbetted by Wayne trying to chat one of the nice police ladies up. What is wrong with the bloke?!

Whilst Saturday nights (or in this weekends case, every night) are all very good, I'm starting to move into that mind-set that lives for the weekend and tries to wish the week away. I know exactly what's doing it; too much free time during the week, no-one around and me a social creature that craves human contact. Don't get me wrong, I'm perfectly capable of occupying myself and have my head into literally everything, but I miss being around people. I WANT to get back to work but can't; my manager's written a letter to say I'm dangerous in the warehouse whilst still fitting. Apparently impromptu breakdancing whilst guiding 8 tons of industrial lathe into position may cause my own death and take someone else with me. I'm burning very little energy off during the day and sleeping badly. It's pants!

I want to get back to some kind of balance. Whilst I'm in no way going to give up the social life I've carved out for myself of late (missed that like fook over the past year or two) I need that working week routine badly.