Author: Smokehouse

I went back into Hospital on October 14^th for what should have been a routine one hour operation to remove my gall bladder. As is often the way with my life it was anything other than routine. Straightforward keyhole surgery was abandoned after 1.5 hours and invasive surgery was performed taking the time I was on the operating table to 4.5 hours. Any chance of leaving hospital that day went straight out of the window and it was 5 days later before I was allowed to leave. The scar is an interesting one and about 10 inches long. It is healing slowly and I am returning to some form of mobility however it will be some weeks before I can drive again.

I have to return to Hospital in another four days to have a minor procedure performed to remove the drains that are still in my stomach. I use the word minor with some trepidation as I have already mentioned it probably will not be minor and it will probably not be routine. Since arriving home my house has once again resembled Grand central Station and the numbers of well wishers and friends calling in has left me humbled. The Traveller was here for a week after I came home and then departed for the sunnier climes of The South of France. The day after he left my brother arrived and between them and Bean Counter I have been looked after really well.

Things I used to take for granted have required some help such as getting in and out of chairs and bed, simple things like loading a washing machine or picking up a heavy pan are a strict no no and even walking more than a few hundred yards tends to leave me exhausted. I have been told I will be fine in around six weeks or so but right now I find that hard to believe. An unexpected bonus of all of this is that I have not put any weight on and apart from the swelling in my abdomen I am looking lean and fit. In fact most people have said I look great until they see me struggle to get out of a chair or walk.

I have slept through a great deal of the time since I arrived home and news has been thin on the ground. Most of the events have just passed me by. I expect this will be the case until I no longer need any pain killers. BC has returned to work and my Bro returns on Sunday coming. I guess that is when I will find out just how independent or not as the case may be I really am. House arrest is just not for me!

 

It is all change yet again. My pre-op appointment has been cancelled and my date for an operation has been brought forward by 25 hours. Yes, I go in one day earlier and one hour before my previous allotted slot. Will this change, who knows? What is certain that the next post after this one will be from Commander Riker with any news gos or scandal.

It is time for a rant, I have not had one for weeks! The country is going to the dogs more and more each day. The labour government have screwed us into the ground and if the Lisbon treaty is ratified by just one more country then we will all be shafted because the decision will be enshrined in law and cannot be reversed. We will have a European president who will represent ALL 27 countries of the EU a European defence minister who will decide on our behalf what wars if any we will fight and our borders will be controlled by a minister in Brussels. In short it will not be worth having  a UK parliament because they will unable to make any new laws or control borders or implement policy without us having to go the Parliament in Brussels to ask them if it is OK.

Within a few months the England I knew will no longer be recognisable. We will be just one more state in the European Federation. I was in Scotland a few months ago and they have been told not to fly the Saltire (their own flag) in case it offends Muslims or ethnic minorities. None of this they have to fit in with us, we have to fit in with them! Apparently it is ok to support your national team but if you support your country then that is racist.

Political Correctness has gone mad and I would rather be living in a South American dictatorship than the hell hole this country has become. I used to love my country, in a few weeks time I will no longer have one, and I will merely be living in a state of the European Federation and governed by faceless wonders in Brussels. Oh and by the way Tony Blair is set to be the first president of this new federation. If you read the full text of the Lisbon treaty it will scare the shit out of you. Gordon Brown promised a referendum when it was called the Lisbon Constitution so they changed the name to the Lisbon Treaty and the referendum was cancelled.

Rant over, I have been reading more and more travel books during my time of enforced idleness and as a result I have grown more and more restless. Each passing day reminds me of the fact that I am getting older and that time is marching on. There is so much to do so many places to visit and so many things to see. I do not regret any of the actions I have taken over the years but I do regret some of the things I did not do. I do not want to experience the world and all it has to offer on a fly and fry package holiday going only where the tour operators allow me to go. I desperately want to visit the Tiler and Printer and some of my family down under but realise that two weeks holiday will not allow me to achieve this. No I need at least four months in Oz alone with at least another month in New Zealand. To travel the bits of this planet that I have earmarked will take two years at a pinch.

At this point I do not know how I am going to achieve this especially within the current economic climate. All I know is that Rhonda is sitting rather forlornly in the garden itching to stretch her legs, my passport is staring at me with an accusing look and that within a few short months  and after a three month diet of boiled, stewed, steamed and grilled vegetables and fish I should be back to physical perfection.

I do realise that I will have to leave as soon as possible after President Blair takes office and my country no longer exists.

 

I was discharged from hospital and arrived home last Thursday evening. It is nice to be home and Special thanks are due to Commander Riker for successfully taking control of the bridge for the last few days. He has done a sterling job and if my mail box is to be believed then my own position as Captain of this blog may be under threat. I have decided that CR will take over when I am unable to make or complete any entries and I am pretty sure that he will get his own guest spot every now and then if only because I love his style of writing. The next few paragraphs are to correct a couple of inaccuracies reported by CR although they were not his fault and were written in good faith.

 An attempt was made to remove the reported blockage under heavy sedation. Apparently a patient needs to be conscious and breathing of their own accord as opposed to being under anaesthetic and respirating through ventilators. It failed spectacularly as I wriggled about and grumbled too much and the blockage could not be removed successfully. They did manage to place stents in the duct in the hope that this would widen it enough for any stones to pass through and if they did not then at least the excess bile which was slowly poisoning me would be able to flow around the blockages and pass safely into the intestines.

As a result my liver function tests, billarubin counts and Gamma GT’s and lots of other meaningless sounding buzzwords  are slowly returning to normal after reaching exorbitantly high levels and I am not as yellow as I was (think of “I am turning Japanese” by the Vapours).  It may take up to a couple of weeks for this condition to pass as my body attempts to rid itself of the toxins that have built up over the three week period prior to and during my stay in hospital. I still feel tired and after only a small amount of exercise such as a short walk, I need to lie down for a while. (I know some of you will be saying what’s new, he always was a bone idle lazy bastard) I am also experiencing dizzy spells as the blood supply to my brain is still somewhat tainted. (This is NOT, I repeat not caused by the over indulgence of recreational drugs)This alone puts driving on the list of many things I can no longer safely perform for the moment at least.

This is the bit where things become a little hazy. I need to go back to hospital at some point, as yet unspecified, for another operation.  Now I have been told so many different things by different doctors, consultants and nurses. These range from, I will be back in hospital in another 2, 3 or 8 weeks. This will be only to remove the stainless steel stents, or it could be to remove the stents and remove the stones from my primary bile duct (if the stones are still there) and then sent home again to wait for another operation to remove my gall bladder, or it could be to do the whole job (three separate procedures) in one go. I have been told the latter procedure is complicated and has some element of risk such as possible damage to the bowel or even worse damaging the pancreas.

Until I have the date for entry to hospital again and I have been told the procedure they are going to perform and I have it in writing I will not know what the hell is going on or when. What is fact is that I still have the underlying problem of my gall bladder being blocked with stones and I am suffering the consequences of that particular condition.  There, clear as mud isn’t it?

For the moment I am on a NO fat diet as opposed to a low fat diet with no red meat, nothing roasted or fried, even semi skimmed milk is out of the question. All dairy products are off the menu as are a long list of other items too numerous to bother mentioning. I can tell you black tea is disgusting and skimmed milk is not worth the bother. There is virtually no difference between Weetabix with water and Weetabix with skimmed milk, only the colour. Basically if it looks good, tastes nice or even smells faintly appealing I can’t have it.

On the bright side I have lost three stone in weight and while I am delighted with this I am rather less happy about the manner in which it has happened. I really do blame my weight gain over the past three years upon the medication I am taking for high blood pressure which has come down so much I am really wondering if I need to take them anymore. I will continue with the tablets until after I am eventually no longer dependent upon medication or surgery for my underlying and immediate problems. However for now at least, the Caption is on the bridge.

 

As is so often the case, it has been a strange week. The Traveller left for the South of France in the early hours of Sunday morning and we had a last meal together on the Saturday evening. I did not get much sleep on the Saturday night and I dozed listlessly until about 9-30am when I decided to get up. A pretty much uneventful day followed and then I fell asleep on the couch and finally went to bed at around 11pm. I could not move in the morning and so stayed in bed until the following morning and went into the bathroom feeling exhausted and at deaths door.

I do not know if any of you have ever looked into the mirror and saw an owl staring back at you. Well I did and a pair of bright yellow eyes and a skin pallor that looked decidedly unhealthy peered nervously back at me from the mirror. I am renowned for not panicking until something goes wrong; indeed it is only when something does go wrong that I do panic. Remembering that the last time I saw someone looking like that they were dead seven days later I indulged in some serious panicking. This was compounded by the fact that my water works had literally gummed up and I was trying to pass bright yellow porridge. I panicked for England.

Bean Counter was despatched to the doctors as I was to unwell and too exhausted to go and she returned with some serious antibiotics and the instructions to contact the doctor if things do not improve within 48 hours. I drank gallons of water to try and thin things down in the waterworks department and started on the antibiotics. 48 hours later and there is a marked improvement. Sometime later this afternoon I have to attend a pre-op appointment at the local hospital and then I am going to contact the doctor with the results from my pre-op assessment and to discuss further my change from Caucasian to Chinese.

It is perhaps fitting that I should mention the passing of two of my heroes within the last week or so. The first is Keith Waterhouse whose column firstly in the Daily Mirror and then the Daily Mail I read avidly for as long as I can remember. The man was the author of some 60 books and numerous plays and a lover of champagne and it is from him that I often draw inspiration to write. I could never write a novel as I do not have the patience for all of that crap but I love writing whether it be letters, diary entries or essays and dissertations. Keith made everything he wrote humorous but with a point that made you want to continue to the end and then absorb all of the points he made with a smile. I have tried to do the same, you the reader will be the judge of whether or not I have succeeded.

The second is a man who was the ultimate inspiration for any who was ever drawn to the kitchen with a bottle of wine. It can only be Keith Floyd. I loved watching his programmes from the early day’s right up until the last. I particularly enjoyed the way he threw in a bit of this and a bit of that and perhaps a glug or two of something else. He seemed to revel in the fact that cooking was not an exact science but something to be enjoyed and to have fun with and of course no cook should enter the kitchen without a bottle or two of something. I have tried to emulate in some way or other these two characters, in fact the blog was originally intended to be a barbecue blog but as the weather is so damn unpredictable that has rather got lost along the way. Floyd made me love cooking or messing about in the kitchen as some have said and Waterhouse made me enjoy writing about it.

Sadly both characters are no more; I will miss the pair of them although I never met either. The raconteur and the bon viveur, it would be nice one day to be compared to either. Providing the Doctors sort me out and quickly then at some point in the future I will be raising a glass to Messrs Floyd and Waterhouse. It is possible to have better heroes?

 

At long last I have a date for my operation. It is to be in the middle of October and the nice consultant has explained all the procedure and possible complications that could go wrong. Apparently my gall bladder is so swollen that keyhole surgery may not be enough to remove it. They will not know for sure about this until they have opened me up and lobbed a camera inside of me to see how badly it is swollen. Naturally as I will be asleep (hopefully) when they do this I will not know what they are going to do until after I have woken up.

Alternatives were discussed and dismissed. Dissolving the stones is a long process with expensive drugs and the side effects can be pretty severe. Blasting them with radio waves only works on certain types of stones and again this was crossed off the list. Removing the stones only was also discounted as this will not stop them from reforming in the future. In short the only real way to deal with the problem is to remove it completely. The side effects, I have been told, will only be temporary and should consist of nothing more than a few days of diarrhoea at worst until my body adjusts to the constant drip feeding of bile into the stomach.

If I do have keyhole surgery then I should be out of hospital the following day and back in work within two weeks. If I have to have open surgery I will be in hospital for around 3 maybe four nights and off work for between four to six weeks. I asked the consultant that if he should have to perform open surgery could he leave me with an interesting scar instead of a boring straight cut. He said it was such an unusual request and that it would be a challenge he just might! Right now I am thinking of something along the lines of an attack from a wild animal or a bayonet wound. These are much more of a talking point at the beach than a boring old straight cut with neat little stitches.

Throughout the last few weeks Bean Counter has been an absolute angel and has put up with my many mood swings caused by pain, medication and sometimes sheer anger and frustration at the problems that such a little thing like a pebble sized stone can cause. There have also been some funny moments such as when I put on a pair of trousers that had not fitted me for a very long time and they fell to the floor in the kitchen. I have since started using belts and braces.

 

My my, doesn’t time fly? I was in the local supermarket the other day when I spotted a friend and wandered over for a quick chat. After small talk and how are yous etc I realised we had first met some 38 years ago. During that time Clever Clogs has happily settled down with two children and a devoted spouse and life appears quite rosy. It is a heart warming story to hear that life has turned out rather well for old friends especially when so many of us still do not know and may never know exactly what it is we want. The same evening the Carer popped in to see me and we quickly realised that in a little over two days it would be two years since Elsie had passed away. This was yet more evidence of time flying by and naturally we had to arrange an anniversary event and at short notice.

Fortunately the weather over the weekend was glorious and Bean Counter, Roger Moor and the Traveller were all pressed ganged into action. Lawns were mowed, gardens tidied up, barbecues cleaned and a spread prepared and laid out all in record time and within minutes of our first guests arriving. Nearly all of the usual suspects were there and only those with outstanding commitments could not attend but as it happened over 30 people including 8 or more toddlers filled the grounds of Château Ghastanbury. It was almost like a vigil with Sophia Loren lighting a candle and the Carer offering to lead collective prayers. Several glasses to the missing Elsie were offered and drunk in the spirit of one toasting absent friends. As one group departed another one arrived and as Ogri and Boadicea left the Animal and his family landed. As the Carer and her family departed Rikers mum and her husband turned up.

Naturally it would be no show without Punch and so Little Miss Sunshine flounced in sporting a new pair of glasses. I do not think any of us have ever seen her in a pair of glasses before and it was not long before we (Rikers dad, the Animal, Roger Moor and me) decided she looked like a secretary. Of course this was meant as a compliment and I am sure it was taken as one as we are all still alive and unscathed! Someone else I had not spoken to at any length for a number of years arrived with her beau, Casey and the Godfather. Casey and I met in the summer of 86 via mutual friends although in recent years we have not seen much of each other. The pair of them have attempted to settle in Italy and Spain since then but have arrived back in the UK. It was great to get an alternative view of leaving these shores and how it is not always as rosy as the guide books would have us believe. After what seemed like only a few minutes but was a few hours they left promising to keep in touch more often.

The evening ended in the small hours with LMS being the last to leave and only after a disastrous attempt to make baked potatoes in the embers of the fire. They were wrapped in tin foil and thrown onto the glowing coals. After some time I stabbed them with a poking stick to see if they had been cooked and as the poking stick would not pass through the parcels I concluded that they were not done. Sometime later and after becoming fed up of waiting I took the parcels out and looked at solid charcoal lumps. It was no wonder the poking stick would not pass through them. With some butter to soften them up and some salt to take away the horrible taste me BC, LMS and her beau set about devouring what was left inside the rock solid husks. With a lot of help from very good friends the whole event had been a complete success and in spite of the occasion it was a very happy affair.  I had to conclude that time may pass, the years might fly by but… memories still live on.

 

Another summer, another washout. This being the Bank Holiday weekend it was always odds on that it was going to rain and it did. I feel sorry for any one that was holidaying in the UK this week. Autumn seems to have come early this year and the skies are depressingly bleak. I guess I should be grateful for the fact on the three occasions I have managed to get away this year the weather was good.

I am still off work and still suffering from abdominal pain. I have spent weeks trying to figure out exactly what it is that triggers the bloated feeling and the insufferable distension. So far I have cut out anything fatty from my diet and I have discovered that processed flour causes me problems. White bread, pasta, pizza, pastry and anything fried or roasted have also been cut from my diet as has all dairy products.

My weight is still dropping but the rate of loss has slowed down and I am now around 14.5 stone or 92 Kilos or 203 pounds for my American chums. I also have an appointment date with a consultant set for within a couple of weeks. Hopefully my symptoms, condition and cure will be laid out before me. I can but live in hope.

While I have been getting accustomed to a diet of fruit, steamed vegetables and poached fish I made an amazing discovery, Vesta meals are back! I actually bought a couple and have rediscovered a part of my youth. These tasty boil in the bag items were once considered the height of sophistication and were my first introduction to foreign food. Delights such as Chow Mein, Curry and Paella were first experienced from those little boxes. Accompanied by a cold bottle of Blue Nun for refreshment an empty bottle of Mateus Rose covered in wax with a candle stuffed into the neck for atmosphere I considered myself to be very cosmopolitan indeed. How times change.

All this reminiscing reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend around 20 years ago. It went something along the lines of, “suppose this is as good as it ever gets and one day we will forget the shit we are in now and look back and say they were the good old days”. I do not remember who said it him or me but recent events caused me to think that perhaps this is as happy as I am ever going to be. We can’t all get what we want or go where we want to go or see and experience the things we want. To compensate I used to buy stuff I didn’t actually need as a reward for doing jobs I did not like and for not being able to do the things I wanted to do. It was nice to see something tangible for my efforts. In retrospect it was comfort shopping. I am now trying to de-clutter my life and stuff is appearing faster than I can get rid of it.

It is a sobering thought that circumstances beyond my control are stopping me from doing many of things I want to be able to do while I still can. On the subject of travel or moving I have to consider the possibility that it may never happen. If it isn’t money or time or regulations there always seems to be something stopping me from fully opening the door to maybe perceived happiness elsewhere. On top of this is a human condition. Every action affects someone somewhere. My friends have said they will miss me and some have actually told me they do not want me to go. It is an exaggeration of course but I often feel as though I am living my life for someone else.

If I could learn to appreciate what I already have and to be happy with my circumstances then life would be better not just for me but I suspect a few other people as well. Sadly what springs to mind is the saying “Old dogs and new tricks”.

 

It has been over a month since my last post and during that time I have been diagnosed with gallstones. It may not sound like much but it has kept me off work since the first attack of cholecystisis.  A brief no frills explanation for those who do not know what this is can be found by clicking on the word cholecystisis. Anyway I have to have my gall bladder removed at some point and nobody can tell me when this will be although I have been told that it will not be before Xmas.

The pain and discomfort are acute and I have not felt like writing or contacting any one apart from my GP. As a result I have become quite unsociable these days. The only good thing to come out of the whole episode is that I have lost a lot of weight. I actually started a diet and good health kick seven weeks ago and over a period of three weeks I had managed to lose six pounds. Shortly after falling ill I managed to lose over a stone more (a stone equals 14 lbs or 6.35 kilos to my non imperial friends) and today I now weigh 14 stone 13 pounds. It is the first in over four years that I have been under 15 stone. Co-incidentally it is round about four years ago that I started taking high blood pressure tablets and I stopped taking them seven weeks ago when the weight first started to come off. Coincidence or what?

So what have I been up to? Well I have read several travel books by people such as Ted Simon, Lois Price, Ewan and Charley and Sam Manicom. I have also watched a few DVDs and that is about it. I also have to mention that last night I listened to a concert by the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain. They were live at the Albert Hall and were covered by BBC Radio Three. These guys are fantastic and nothing I could ever write here would do them justice, instead check them out for your selves here. I have tickets to go and see them at Liverpool Philharmonic and I intend to go in evening suit and bow tie for the event. I reckon they are the British version of Hayseed Dixie, another wonderful outfit that I have had the pleasure of seeing live.

All thoughts of travel and exploratory holidays to exciting and exotic locations are off until at least the beginning of next year. It seems to have gone the way of the good old British summer and any thoughts of having a barbecue here this year. This year’s summer is shaping up to go the same way as the previous two which were the wettest on record respectively.

Well that is all for now except to say I am in the wonderful hands of Bean Counter and my GP and as usual normal service will be resumed when I am well enough. Cholecystisis eh, the sheer gall of it!

 

Apologies, again for the delay in posting but once more my comp has become infected with spyware and it has taken me some time to clean it with the help of Commander Riker of course. So what have I been up to and what is new since my last post?  The Revellers got married. Yes they are now an official item. And good news it is too. I mean without marriage, vicars and divorce lawyers would be on the dole and in these times that would not be good for the economy with all the job seekers allowance being paid out. So, the very best of luck to the newlyweds in their future together. Naturally BeanCounter and me went to the evening party after the wedding, had a great time, met some old friends and took some photos. It was a fantastic night and an absolute bapfest, thanks Sapho! Check out the gallery.

With the weather being as bad as it has been (the forecasters told us it would be a good summer and so far it has pissed down for most of June and July) barbys have been a rarity. So when Ted Magnum called around one evening we decided there and then that this was as good as it was going to get and my annual big barby was going to take place that very evening with just seven people. Teech came along as did the Animal, the Revellers, BC and of course Roger Moore.  Meat and sausages were cooked in the rain and TM managed to get a bit of a blaze going. Actually it was an inferno and he burned one of the roof trusses I was going to use for a new porch before I had realised what he was doing. Much alcohol (read obscene masses) was consumed and after what seemed like 5 minutes but was several hours, BC had gone to bed and everyone else had left to go home apart from TM, Teech and me.

Now this happens to everyone at least once in his or her lifetime. You have a few drinks with friends and then some one comes up with an idea of such breathtaking audacity and brilliance that it must be acted upon and put into action immediately. Thus it came to pass that TM said why don’t we go for a streak?  Within moments and without thought or question Teech, TM and yours truly had stripped to the buff and were running around the grounds in Château Ghastanbury.  It was a real Chariots of Fire moment; only the slow-mo and glasses of champagne atop the hurdles were missing. A genuine throwback to the seventies when streaking was all the rage.

God alone knows what any of the neighbours would have thought had we been spotted. We were lucky it was close to 4am. At best it looked like an over enthusiastic bout of naturism and at worst a warm up for a full on gay orgy. It only became apparent the following morning when with all of us suffering with hangovers TM said “I had a horrible dream last night; we were all streaking down your road”. With some flickering of joint recognition we prayed that it had been a collective bad dream but deep down we suspected it wasn’t. Sheepishly we looked at each other and checked mobile phones and cameras. I can tell you the camera does not lie.