Leg Wound Update

IF YOU DON'T WANT to hear about drugs, scabs, oozings and associated pussing; just scroll one post down to yesterday's leaping lambs:~ far more Positive Thinking...

Right: you have been warned!

I WOKE UP into a classic tailspin last night. Have you ever done that?... well surely we've all done it once or twice; but have you done it lately? Y'know when you go "oh my life is ruined boo-hoo-hoooo..." etc etc... Then I slept through deeply until the Vanessa show on BBC London radio at 9am sharp. Vanessa always cheers me up.

MY WOUNDED LEG is healing nicely. It reduced from (at its worst) treble the size of my palm. One palm of blistering ("2nd degree burns") another palm of horrific bright red, dead white, deep purple, orange, pink and every burning psychedelic colour in between... ("1st degree burns")... and one palm more of patchy purple bruising... NONE of this infected; all the result of ONE single injection of literally half a millilitre (ie about a thousanth of a pint or a two thousanth of a litre) of yukky street heroin....

Well anyway (to recap the story) after my trip to casualty, my consultant's review a couple of days later and being properly dressed (not just me: I mean the wound was "dressed" too...) and being put on the strongest horse-pill antibiotics merely as a preventative measure...

I went to the local drugs service where they gave me a "dressing" with no padding. Of course it stuck on the top and pulled the top off all my blisters (how was I to know any better? Instructions said "dressing: put dressing on wound" so I did put it directly on top. So blood and gunge running everywhere, nothing to do but fold up a table napkin and stick that on top. Of course this stuck too and pulled my wound open yet again. (I think I spared y'all these details at the time as I'd stressed enough people out with my medical upheavals by this stage...) In the end, the remaining dead skin, which was lying atop this wound like sluggish, slack clingfilm I just peeled off, knowing the whole thing would just scab over... and sure enough with three hours of exposure to open air it duly did.

The only trouble is (and this happened to the little one on my arm which HAS duly healed)... the scab is loose in parts (and I'm NOT picking it), oozy and wet in others, intensely painful at one end. In short NOT the supersealed natural dressing it's meant to be, probably because the damage occured underneath and is rising up and out... yesterday in frustration I sat and squeezed it all out, all the blood and runny "pus" (blister-juice from under the scab) and saw that it is indeed healing even though not as gracefully as I'd hoped it would. About a week ago it was a large capital i shape with stalk and upper and lower bars two inches long... it is shrinking.

So that's my leg update! No more limping. No more nights of agony (and it really DID hurt: just like a severe blistering burn at worst)... it was more like a tropical spider-bite than an ordinary "wound"... the way the blisters kept spreading and blazing pain at me literally a week and more later. How ridiculous. Whatever Afghan or Turk put whatever rubbish in that "gear" deserves to be shot. Oh and it came back from the test as "benzodiazepines" not "barbiturates" which scuppers the blisters theory (barbiturates cause blistering as a standard symptom of overdose: benzos (Valium/Rohypnol-type drugs) are totally unrelated chemically to the (1950s, 1960s sleeping pills) barbiturates (phenobarbitone/phenobarbital, Seconal, Amytal, Tuinal are famous barbs but the dose is in the 50s, 100s of milligrams); benzodiazepines are less dangerous (unlikely to kill you in overdose) but many times stronger per milligram. E.g. Seconal came in 50 and 100mg capsules; Valium comes in 5 and 10mg... considering how out of it I was on this adulterated heroin I would surely have taken double or treble a "medicinal" dose of whatever adulterant found its way in there. Rohypnol (yes the infamous date rape drug) is willfully abused by junkies when they can get it. It causes memory loss (in a patchy type of way, not a total blackout)... the standard nighttime dose is ONE milligram... so my questions about what on earth this stuff that burned the hell out of my leg, practically had me walking into lamp-posts (Mother Hubbs, incidentally blames that gear on her near-"stroke" type occurance: she stood up and when BANG! down on the floor... but I wasn't there. Next day she did look to me like she'd had a stroke: face fallen, totally doped up (but not in any drugs-type of way I've ever seen...)... a £20 bag of heroin weighs minimum 400mg (ie 0.4g), whatever adulterant found its way in I'd suspect was pa small dose by weight but potent... (sorry is this boring you I'm puzzling aloud what on earth it could have been...)... well I'll stop babbling. If I did have barbs it wasn't within three days of the urine test I asked for... whatever damaged my "soft tissue" is still mystery. If you're young, depressed, lost and thinking heroin is the answer: take note and beware! Maybe one person really will read my tribulations and be put off and that, as the cliche goes, "really will make it all worthwhile"..!

On this note I'd better go. Take care everyone..!

PS Calling New York: I'm trying to get talk radio online from New York City... can anybody local please tell me the names of the local stations... what's 77 WABC like? Further Information Please!¬


PPS This was my message to Rush Limbaugh:

Hi Rush this is London calling. Found you online. Please don't let that faux-Martin Luther King impostor Obama get in... Hillary please. Us rest of the world are fed up of George W Bush and don't trust your Republicans that much. But more to the point I wanna see Bill Clinton as America's first ladyboy and a madam president. We survived Margaret Thatcher. You can ride out 8 years of Hillary! All the best from Gledwood in London Town, UK.

ps go to my blog if you want entertainment: http://gledwood2.blogspot.com "hamsters and heroin"

{I kept a copy in case my transatlantic message gets lots... ? lost? or lost lots. whatever...}

Self-Aspirated Blisters/etc

I'M INCLUDING A PIC of that beautiful giant mountainside trotter the PIKA, who collects poisonous flowers for the winter, that, as they slowly break down over the cold season, become nontoxic and edible before they rot... and that is how the tubby little pika feeds himself... and did you know this...= 100% true? In the wild, roborovskis use the established rambling paths of and sometimes live inside the burrows of pikas!... that is 100% true and correct! Imagine what the giant pikas think as my tiny robbies quickly scuttle on past into their personal deeper levels... "grrr! Bloody vermin! Tweetie-Pie meeces in my house again! We shall HAVE to put down more poison!!" (Robos are too intelligent to nibble the pika's poisonous flowers...)

I'm very sluggish and slow and miserable today... not entirely sure why... leg a little less painful by the day. Pain seems to be caused by the blisters re-forming/filling (where of course underneath it's red raw...) On Friday the A&E nurse "aspirated" these for me (basically means she burst 'em with a whacking great horse-needle and sucked the gunge into a gigantic syringe... surely something we've all wanted to do? ... Or am I totally barking up the wrong tree? To pop a zit by sucking it into a syringe... or to do likewise with a boil or pussing abscess... or even plain old "brandy"-filled blisters...

Anyhow, seeing as it's now mostly dried out and scabberous by now, and going all itchy inside I felt I wanted to change my dressings myself... cleaned it up and "aspirated" my own blisters (barely anything to drain they're sinking down into soon-to-be-scabs now...)...

Even Mother Hubbard, whose last abscess was so spectacular, the doctors asked if they could photograph it for their records, (it required surgical intervention literally on the FIFTH day since first appearing... and was so deep it required "fingers" of tampon-like interior packing... she was lucky to have sorted herself hospital-wise so soon as these "fingers" (which I saw myself: empty, I could literally have inserted my own fingers into them... this was the infection's jamboree of drilling not one but TWO attempts right down into the bone and it very nearly had reached there... abscess is VERY difficult to get out of bone... that requires the highest antibiotic doses of all... that is what loses people their legs...

Anyway, Mother Hubbs said my wound was pretty spectacular considering it was just a "miss"/partial "miss" caused by bad drugs and not even an infection... that's NASTY business.

And the sneery look on "nurse aspirator's" face at me the "barbiturate injector"... I TOLD them it was unwittingly and inadvertently done... I SAID I haven't actually "seen" a barbiturate capsule in my life. (All I "saw" prior to that injection was scummy brown heroin!)

I am going to have to get my dressings changed properly and professionally tomorrow... the GP's surgery will supposedly do this for me... if not the drugs service...

Hmmm I am TIRED. I slept for a LONG long time last night... from a miserable 6pm turn in to a 9am "gotta run!" I sorted myself out gloriously...

... gotta get my chicken pieces and peppers and all... y'know. I found some Arabic Coca-Cola on the street (in date! Just because it was covered in unusual writing and obviously some kind of special edition it had been judged inedible/undrinkbble and so chucked outside...) this had me peeing all night... When I awoke in the early hours, full-on robo-tainment was happening...

Hey best of news: my robbies seem to have stopped excessively washing and itching... seems they've left their "mites" far behind themselves... and their harvesty-coloured coats smell all fresh and harvesty now, too... not that they ever smelt nasty but they're fresher than ever living on and behind newspaper now... excellent stuff... Even pingy Baby Itchy seems well... too well almost... she was squabbling with Bashful this morning. Which made me wonder where that power-struggle will end up... with Queen Itchy I ruling over them all, do you wonder?...

... I dunno! Well I better had go. Hope all is well with y'all my friends... take care...


g
xx

I am behind with my Videos, so here's a whole list of all the most recent. If they aren't upscreen then click on anything you like the sound of and you'll go straight there on whatever other blog it's to be found on...

Staxx: Joy
Liza Minelli: Losing My Mind
Talking Cat
Madonna: The Power of Goodbye
Two Cats Chatting: Translation
Michael Jackson: Stranger In Moscow
Madonna: Hung Up
Amy Winehouse: Back to Black
Kraftwerk: The Model
Right Said Fred ~ Too Sexy ~ Daz Commercial

I love doctors' medical memoirs: this is a good one you can "listen again" to from Radio 4: Trust Me, I'm a Junior Doctor by Max Pemberton. If you want to hear it all from the beginning you'll need to clickonit today as (last) Monday's (the first) instalment vanishes as of midnight London time tonight...

Consultant

THE RECEPTIONIST FROM LAST TIME was having a fag outside when I arrived at casualty 20 minutes early for my appointment. She smiled ruefully but directed me to the right part.

Bang on time a nurse called my name. Went through the fairly needless procedure of asking why I was there... "senior review" it is apparently called...

A very friendly Indian doctor had a look at my marbled chemical burn and blisters thing... confirmed again: no infection (even though it is bright red and hurts all the time a bit and intermittently quite a lot as if the burn is spreading... looks far worse than the illustration (about six times as many and probably bigger) but the pictures I yahoo'd were either far less serious or much worse than mine so I thought I'd veer on the side of not grossing people out today: "if it was infection it would have spread all over by now" he declared. But transferred me to an even stronger antibiotic Augmentin (amoxicillin and clavulanic acid tablets 500mg and 125mg one three times a day). He said keep the flucloxacillin in case you ever do get an abscess. I don't know about "getting abscesses" any more; had enough.

I didn't want to sound all junkie but remembered to ask about these suspected barbiturates in the gear. Yes! Barbiturates cause blistering all over the place, he said and we have our diagnosis. Barbiturated heroin. No wonder I was weaving all over the place last week...

The nurse (only black woman I've ever met with an Aussie accent) rather grudgingly drained about 10-20mls of yellow water (not pus) out of the blisters with a huge needle and syringe. "Sharp scratch," she said. But I felt nothing. Even when she said it "might sting" and I dreaded I would hit the roof I barely felt anything: this sticky brown stuff like cuprinol... Now I have transparent patches all over it (are these for burns patients? They looked highly professional: never seen anything like them before...) All posh packing and bandages on top. One bandage even came on a crown-like fixture I put my foot through then pyoing! ~ It's on my leg... From now on the GP's surgery have to rebandage twice a week so no staving me off from now on else I'll start talking about... actually you probably don't wanna hear.

On the way home I passed a shop selling tiny trotters of the winter white variety (they're twice as big as robbies and have the softest fur I have ever felt on a domestic pet... just like chinchillas they take dust baths... beautiful animals (but roborovskis are more pingy and panicky and exceedingly inquisitive and copy one another more which is hilarious to watch...) I found a beautiful "cage"... it was a glass tank not much bigger than what they're in now; only this has two layers of caging on top fixed with ladders... it's beautiful. But they want £55 for it. Is that too much? Can I afford it? (Not really...) Maybe it will give me more reason to steer clear of that nasty brown rubbish.

I feel wounded and depressed and cannot sleep properly. Lost my appetite too.

Do you want to hear Vanessa? She is the most fluently articulate speaker of English I have ever heard ~ bar no-one ~ can let slip any word in the language past her lips without ever sounding pretentious...

Navigate past the red list on the right to "listen now/listen again": choose listen again Friday 22/2/8. She starts on banned atheletes. But I think her "should cheap alcohol be banned" speech is hilarious... "do you stay at home because you can smoke and get plastered for tuppence ha'penny?..." she piques us... and so on. Blah. Clickonthis if you do...

I just looked up some barbiturates on wikipedia: aparently Judy Garland died on only ten 1.5 grain (approx 100mg) Seconals... they must've been powerful pills!!

Thanks everyone for your messages of support I'm sorry not to have been back to anyone for several days... I think I am getting better. I am trying to be good. Too depressed to bother racing about anywhere...

Uh? Ukk.

WHAT? UH? O! Whatever: I have to remember this vital appointment is tomorrow morning. Doesn't feel that close... On close and distant and reflexion I've realized the guy I saw yesterday, whatever class of doctor he was, basically did not know precisely what was wrong with me or why it was blistering (which is unusual) or what was going on. So I am particularly thankful for tomorrow's consultation with a Consultant Dermatologist.

Illustrated is Google images reply to "necrotic" that is NOT the appearance I conjured or the guy seemed to be saying yesterday. From my experience necrotized flesh tends to look white, dead. It's open, like an open sore and may be weepy or wet but isn't pussy to any great degree. It looks and more to the point smells like what it is: dead flesh. My exhousemate had what he claimed to be a shotgun wound on his leg the third time he told me. The first time: it was an injecting "miss" ~ and that's precisely what I thought it was... The other person I knew with "necrosis" or chronic ulceration was a guy who'd already lost one leg (OK: technically half of one) he was a beggar on crutches... I remember walking past him one day and nearly puking... he smelled so bad. The worst smell ~ no exaggeration ~ I have ever smelt in my life. I've never smelt a dead body but would infer that they smell the same. Necrotic number one actually volunteered to inject me (he was a raving crackhead who'd lost his own veins, so he said through injecting speed)... something in his cavaleer attitude made me draw back... when two of the local prostitutes stayed in his room for a few weeks (and he would have me believe they'd left him "exhausted" through their indomitable bixexual lesbian threesome "services" they moaningly "bestowed on him"... as if! :~you haven't seen the guy) I asked one of the girls whether he had injected her (yes) and whether he butchered her (yes) so my instincts as per normal were bang on. In fact nearly everyone who I've let near me has butchered me up: missed, blown the vein by pushing in too quickly, partially missed (because when skin is rimpled up and the needle fully in-vein, the pressure of skin may eventually lapse, pushing the needle out, even though the needle hasn't moved a nanometre) and so on and so on. So whatever these problems of mine are caused by, bad injection technique is not it. As the man said yesterday it is bad (more to the point heavily "stamped on" ("cut") drugs that cause the trouble as well as the low-grade "number three" brown heroin: it never has been meant for injection. It's more popular with dealers than the higher grade "number four" white because it can be "smoked" (off of tinfoil: through a rolled up tinfoil tube:~ the socalled "chasing (the "dragon": though I've never in my life heard an actual user say "chasing the dragon": that is a press and media phrase...) Of course a smokeable drug is more saleable than one effective by snorting or injection only (heroin smoking isn't quite like smoking crack: unlike crack which vapourizes all at once the moment a flame touches anywhere near it ~ allowing considerable doses to flow straight to the brainbox; heroin (which also vapourizes rather than "burns") takes ages to "chase" along tinfoil line after line after line... I only used to smoke at the very beginning of my habit... then I realized "skinpopping" that is injecting subcut (subcutaneously) or IM (intramuscularly) had a double-strength effect and took about as much time (about ten minutes) as my then-tiny smoking habit to affect body and brains...

I only STARTED to inject myself because I was by this stage in a relationship with a 10-year junkie who had left works, citric acid (for breaking down the crappy brown heroin), swabs... all I needed to make up a hit. And because when I had been hit up before the junkies doing it had almost perversely made me cook up my own gear: I had no problems judging how much water/heat/citric/timing were required (well it's hardly rocket science)... anyway...

... so I find myself (many years ago) alone: fully-made-up "hit" in hand. I made some half-hearted attempts to plunge it into the crook of my arm but was basically too scared to hit up intravenously... and so I took up injecting but by skinpopping.

Skinpopping compares to IV injection as trickling warm water into a bath over ten minutes or so... over plunging straight from a cold pool into hot at an Icelandic sauna... skinpopping (at the time this meant an SC/subcut/subcutaneous injection which means pronging the needle just under the skin at a 45 degree angle...) with acidified brown heroin what happens is that within about five minutes (if not straight away: it is dreadfully low quality gear ~ almost as bad as that West Coast American Mexican crap)... a welt starts to appear: like a giant mosquito bite... walking around will move the drug faster through the system... within ten minutes I felt like I was fully immersed in a hot bath; totally relaxed... and free enough to contemplate what a "terrible habit I had and how I needed so desperately to come off"... in the one compelling heroin memoir I have read the author states the same point in different words:

I was never so determined to get clean as when I was dirty...

If this sounds counterintuitive or contradictory then bear this in mind: in withdrawal ALL ANYONE: that is YOU or ME will think about is HEROIN: how to get it. As quickly as possible. Into the body. To stop feeling this bad.

BTW: the above procedure only worked for me with pracically NO tolerance... at my very worst I could take heroin even in quite big amounts and literally feel next to NOTHING... an utterly despairing predicament...

Of course NOBODY in withdrawal will want to get clean... if this were so the AVERAGE length of a heroin habit would not be 14 years! No! You only WANT to get clean (at least anywhere but the very end of a habit) once you are HIGH... and have the luxury of jazzing about in a mindwandering space where you can judge life rosetintedly from afar "my problem is so bad... I really must stop. I HAVE to stop... tomorrow..." (cannot stop now you are stoked up and high!)

The IV injection takes about 30 seconds to come on (unless administered ultra-slowly into an exceedingly narrow vein); peaks in about two minutes... within 6 minutes (so I hear) the heroin has transferred into morpine... but not before the superior (and more addictive) heroin buzz has (in the not over-tolerant individual) suffused body and brain...

Which: yes. Around and about and by the houses, I hope has told any miscomprehenders or doubters or people who just don't get it out there precisely what this habit is ABOUT...

PS Following my own intuitions I googled "barbiturates" and "blister" and, eg here, found out that... seemingly (among the near-impenetrable medicinal language...) barbiturate injection CAN cause skin-blistering... which is why I wanted to get treated by a specialist and not someone who did lots of straw clutching... you want to know how I KNOW he was clutching at straws: he pointed out a bit of "inflamed" (just buised) vein and said "knowledgeably" "this might turn into phlebitis" (which is inflamation OF the vein itself... I've already HAD this: it was like a red hot poker stiking up the side of my thigh... and which, all in all along with his "not infected" (then why as well as feeling literally like a hot oil burn at worst of times did it the night before my hospital appearance go red hot and raging with heat?)... I really think this guy didn't know what the hell was going down and just spouted his reflex "scare the junkie" with not-spot on approximations talk... THIS talk is what leads junkies NOT to believe doctors (because they are being lied to: or the facts are surmised rather than 100% surely KNOWN)... likewise doctors don't believe junkies (specially when drugs come into the equation: "I'm in agony dr!"/etc... because junkies, being so used to being fobbed off and dismissed ~ or if given medication, under-prescribed to ~ become accustomed to exaggerating or lying merely to get the meds they genuinely feel they need.

Valium is for anxiety. Zopiclone is for sleep. Morphine and diamorphine are for severe pain. No dr, far as I'm concerned has any reason to withold any of these just because someone is an addict... when to most old ladies the same drugs are dished out like sweets!!

***

RIGHT: I've found some abscess pus youtubes... only nothing as hardcore as I was hoping for... and the bestlooking one some twat had categorized as "login/adults only" how prissy can you get??

Really I was hoping for some general anaesthesia ~ arse-scooping brown fulminating bloody pus multilitre pusbags but only got these... the first one (on some poor guy's back: my video of the day) is the best how it swooshes out! Hold your breath, prepare not to puke and have a beautiful pus-indulgence (ugh what a phrase) everyone!

1. Draining a Massive Abscess (on the back)...

2. Brotherly Love: Lancing a Boil...

3. Infected Abscess Removal

4. Burst My Abscess (in the mouth)...

FREEDOM! AND GOOD HEALTH!! (Not mine: he said it did NOT look infected; but prescribed 2x250mg flucloxacillin x4 a day anyway to stop this...) What he did say is it was the consequences of injecting bad drugs "heroin does not do this" he said pointing at the blisters, which have been packed under special drainage pads. "If this does get infected or you continue injecting in that leg it could go necrotic." Which means dead flesh and I've seen and smelt it it's absolutely vile. It's like an ulcer that never heals. So that told me!! (I have to say for "not infected" it looks remarkably colourful. Bright red patches, purple bits, dead-looking white bits (not "necrotic" open sores) all warbled and marbled. Ukk. I'm not saying anything more. This happened at casualty/A&E/ER by the way and I have an appointment for a consultant to see it on Friday... I'm so glad I'm not stuck in there I had visions of carting a drip stand downstairs twenty times daily for cigarettes (found it hard enough going without in casualty)... I have to go I am exhausted. Whoopee!!!

Fobbed Off

I GOT TO THE DOCTOR'S on time... asked for an appointment with a nurse or a doctor. Said it was urgent. Nothing available till FRIDAY and a room full of "sick" people (ever noticed how nobody in the doctors' surgery actually LOOKS unwell most of the time... maybe that means they're a good doctor with a really high cure rate... whatever... I was directed to a 24-7 walk-in centre which is MILES away and allied to the biggest casualty department (ER) I have ever experienced. Let the fact that the British government have decreed to all NHS trusts that ALL "customers" MUST be seen WITHIN FOUR HOURS tell you how long the waits in these places can be... and of course you have the dregs and drunks of society haranguing, arguing (or in the best circumstances performing) in front of you... NO WAY did I wanna go up there. I got the phone number of another walk-in or drop-in at a hospital that is nearer and better (why not automatically referred there then? Literally it has to do with being on the "wrong side of the tracks"... or to put it another way, having the wrong postcode...) I am glad I had the presence of mind to telephone this place first. The young man who answered took an immediate interest in my complaint... "an ABSCESS?" he queried excitedly, (I wasn't even going to go down the "cellulitis" route: too exotic for most people)... he lowered his voice to intimate tones: "is it a peri-ANAL one?" "No. It's on the back of my leg." And then to throw an instant explicatory light upon the matter added (and I know I didn't have to) "I'm a heroin addict" oh I see. Then I DID get some good advice. Do NOT leave it. Come into casualty tomorrow morning or go to the drug service. They never HAD a walk-in (I'd been misinformed)... Once I was told to go to the drugs people I was relieved... they were the only place I wanted to go anyway. No lecturing Nigerian doctors; no four hour weights. They know me and I know I can come at 9am and get seen within half an hour. They are not meant to be a first-line treatment setting for stuff the family doctor's supposed to see to unless you don't have another doctor or (as in my case) the doctors have in essence refused you... Injecting infections are obviously a speciality and so I'll get a proper set of advice and treatment. I really did NOT want to go to casualty tonight... though my leg is dipping into chip fryer mode again... it does feel like a huge chip-fat burn sizzling away sometimes; then it gets a bit better and I think maybe it's not so bad after all... y'know how it goes...

I spoke to Mother Hubbs on the phone because she called her Dodgy (he is anything but dodgy actually) when we were down the pub round the corner from the doctors'... she is with her grandchildren across the country. She sounds normal now. When I spoke to her before seeing her and how her face had literally fallen: eyes barely open... after a "fit" she said she had... she sounded smashed out of her brains. I think she had a stroke but I know what she's like she will put off and put off seeing any medical professional... hmmm... who does THAT sound like?...

Well I am definitely going tomorrow my leg is only getting worse and worse. Weeping wet blisters and purple mottling with bits going white around it... doesn't look good...

So it's 9am at the druggery for me... and my hamsters are hiding in their huge tartan bag... maybe for several days...

RIGHT I HAD BETTER REPEAT HERE FOR REITERATION: IF FOR SOME REASON I AM NOT ONLINE FOR A FEW DAYS IT MEANS I AM IN HOSPITAL. THEY WOULD ONLY PUT ME IN HOSPITAL IF THEY THOUGHT I NEEDED IV ANTIBIOTICS. AT LEAST NOW I'M GOING TO THE DRUGS SERVICE DR AND NOT JUST A GENERAL ONE I GET A SEASONED APPRAISAL OF HOW BAD THIS THING REALLY IS AND IF THEY THINK I WANT TO BE EATING SHEPHERD'S PIE FOR A WEEK THEN SHEPHERD'S PIE IT IS (AND JELLY AND ICE-CREAM FOR PUDS: YUMM!) ;->...

PS I am now listening to Billy Bunter's Birthday Bash... it is so entertaining... do you know Billy Bunter? That 1950s nasty tubby schoolboy... like a humanized evil version of Spherical

Off to the Doctor's...

RIGHT I AM OFF TO MY LOCAL DOCTOR'S surgery... where I have been very reluctant to go... especially having been lectured by an ignorant Nigerian locum last time "why don't you just stop?"... (if I could it would not be called "addiction" ~ duh!)... if I am offline for days and days it means I am in hospital I am avoiding there like the flying plague though I know Evilstein will only use it as an excuse to throw out my robbies/make me homeless/etc. I am just about to leave for the "surgery" now... assuming I got the details right they don't shut till six... And I will only ask for an appointment with the nurse. Why? Because assuming this is really as dreadfully terrible as everyone says she will be utterly horrified and get the doctor right away and I will have someone on-side backing me up against the probably barely-English-speaking doctor... If I opt straight for the doctor I will be assumed to be a timewaster (as most patients are: coming in with common coughs and colds that no medication can really treat anyway...)... blah blah and so on right I'd better go