Rhetorical question time. Who designs these tests?

 As my next routine screening looms, well...in around three months.....I started to ponder the nature of tests designed to identify cancers. 

Many of them can be diagnosed by the various imaging techniques available in most UK Hospitals.  They are then explored by taking a small sample for testing. 

Then there's blood tests that can identify some cancers.  The one for bowel cancer is very easily carried out in the privacy of your own bathroom.

And OK, the basic test for prostate cancer is intrusive, but I doubt it's that painful.

Yet, the  screening and tests for female are intrusive and uncomfortable.  It makes me wonder why, when many other have non-intrusive tests, do these have uncomfortable tests?  My reasoning is that they MUST have been developed by men, as women surely wouldn't make them so intrusive. 

So, maybe it's time less intrusive tests were developed, so women wouldn't dread going for them.

And last time I went, the radiologist said that I could have mine sitting....after at least three where I had my crutches taken away and was expected to keep still whilst standing in an unnatural position! 

I wonder?

 At the moment I am "house/cat" sitting, but really to keep an eye on Mum. (Aging health problems.) 

Anyway, Mum watches Drama channel all day.  When I was there earlier an advert was on about Water Aid.  If you are unaware what Water Aid is about, it's a charity that collects donations that are used to help bring clean water into developing countries.

Mum got quite upset about the small child collecting filthy water. 

It made me wonder, in these countries, I bet the "monied" people don have to collect their water in this fashion!  They probably turn a tap, as we do.  In which case, why the huge disparity? And why don't the "monied" do more to help, which I consider a rhetorical question.  As it's obvious to me, if you keep a section of society in a vulnerable position, they're more likely to do your bidding, if they think it might better their position.

A break from the usual

 My sister and her husband are on holiday at the moment, so I am "housesitting", but really here to pop round to Mum's every day, and do some jobs for her, like my sister does.  Basically, to make sure she's eating. 

It's a tough time, as Mum wants to stay in her house, but she's got two types of dementia, and has deteriorated quite a bit since I last saw her.  I expect that the inevitable will come, but she's also started throwing, "if I'm still here" into conversation, why she's having lucid times.  

Mum isn't the easiest person to help. 

A bit annoyed...still!

 I decided to make socks for all the male members of my family and cousins as they reached 65, and for my female relatives a shawl for their 60th.

The reason for the age difference is that I decided to do this the year my younger sister was 60, and several of my male relatives had already turned 60. 

Anyway, as I have been friends with a couple since I moved into my own house...over 20 years ago now....I thought that I would add them, as he was 65 in mid January and her birthday is early March. I asked the man what colour shawl he thought that she would like, and he told me that her feet are "always cold" and socks might be more welcome.  

So..I cast on some socks for her, and was almost at the toes on the second when I thought it might be a good idea to check the fit, (I don't always get this chance,).  So, I let her try the finished one on. 

Grrr!   I'm surprised that I managed to keep calm for the rest of my visit, as she found numerous things "not quite right" with it .  I got back home. Crossly finished the second sock, and then vast on the most bland sock you can think of. Just a tiny leg portion, then the foot. I decided that she wasn't having the first pair, that I would find a welcoming home for them.

I had also cast on a laceweight shawl, I decided that she wasn't having that either.  

So, I am still cross, as I haven't seen hide nor hair of her since she found fault, over two weeks ago. I was informally invited to a party at theirs on Saturday, but I detest large gatherings, unless they are my family, and then I will still sit in a corner and people watch. 

So, I need to find homes for the socks, ladies size four, and a laceweight shawl, when it's finished....although it might be suitable for a female cousin who has not yet reached 60. 

New system at doctor's

 As from Monday just gone you can no longer phone for an appointment and get one immediately, but neither do you have to wait for ages to speak to someone. 

Well, how do you get an appointment, I hear you ask? 

You either fill in an online form, outlining your symptoms, and send it to the surgery.  This is then reviewed and dealt with. 

(If you'd rather phone or go in person the form is filled in for you.) They then try to get back to you with the day, and action is taken.

I sent a form in just after noon, and have had a phone call giving me an appointment for Monday morning.  In the past, I have been given appointments as much as four weeks in the future, and nearly always two weeks off. 

Apparently the new system is making for smoother running of the surgery, and less wasted appointments, as all are reviewed and may not need a face to face appointment. 

It will take a while for some to get used to it, but I'm all for smoother running. 

Panatone colour of 2024!

 The folk at Panatone select a "colour of the year" annually.

This time I wonder if the person selecting the colour is feeling OK.  The colour chosen is Peach Fuzz, and it's such a nothing colour.  It has absolutely nothing about it.   It actually reminds me of my grandma's bloomer like knickers that she wore.   It's definitely not a colour to get you noticed, and is actually more non-descript than the 70s/early 80s go to colour of magnolia. 

I really think someone should ask the person who selected the colour if they're OK....really OK. 

Are blogs a dying breed?

 As you might have gathered, I like knitting and crochet.  Anyway, recently I have searched for other blogs, as an interesting pattern caught my eye, and the ones I looked at haven't had any new posts for about 7/8 years.  So, this made me wonder if vlogs are slowly taking over.

So, I wonder, if  you're reading this, do you have your own blog?  When was the last time you posted?  If you haven't been blogging, what are you doing instead, vlogging?

It's not something I think I would like to do, as I don't think I photograph well, so the thought of being on screen talking leaves me cold.

I think I'll stick to writing this blog.......I might even start posting on Fidgetty Fingers again as well.    

Happy 2024

 As I put the year just then, it occurred to me that it's ten years in March since I was diagnosed with spinal stenosis. 

Anyway, that wasn't what I planned to witter on about.   The subject of New Year's resolutions has cropped up on Facebook.

I haven't made any for years, in fact I don't think that I ever have.  I do promise myself to be kind to others, and myself, and treat anything bad as stoically as I can. Then move on from it, dwelling on bad stuff that happens to you just eats away at you and makes you bitter towards the world.  So, as that Disney princess sings....I try to "Let it go".

I do set myself reading and craft goals. 

The reading goals are usually the same.

1)  Read a classic

2) Re-read a favourite book

3) Read a translated book.

4) Read a Shakespeare play

and last year I added to the list, read a poetry book.

As for craft goals, I set myself several for last year, and completely forgot about them, because I had decided to knit a shawl for all my female cousins as they reached 60, and a pair of socks for my male cousins, but they have to be for their 65th birthday , as I had missed quite a few of their 60th 's. (Then I decided to add in Auntys and Uncles as they reached 80, several are already past 80, but I will work around it.)

So, I intend to keep myself busy this year.

Hyper anxiety, or a form of PTSD?

Wednesday  afternoon my ex turned up to lay the parquet floor in my vestibule.

Before I say anything more, I  have to stress that he was not doing this out of "the goodness of his heart", I seriously doubt he has any, but you'll find out why if you read on. 

Anyway, he arrives, starts ordering me about "move this, shift that!" No please, no thank you, just very blunt orders. ...no....NOT requests. 

Then he reads the instructions on the material.  The floor needed priming first. A simple dilute PVA glue mix....but did he asks if I had any, nope! "I bet you don't have any PVA, have you!" Statement , not question.   I knew exactly where it was, so I got it out, and put it on the sink, with a pot.  "Oh hell! I need a paint brush to apply it" ( All swear words will be replaced by more palatable words, starting with hell....as that is definitely not what he said.)

Surprise, surprise, he had one in his tool caddy. 

Then he tore open the packet of parquet flooring. I have had it a while, and the backing had degraded in some bits...so he ripped open the second pack. Air at this point turning blue due to swear words being used. 

"I can't f@¢¥π®€ fit this, it will take for-f......-ever! I'll have to cut every piece." ( There was much more swearing than I am putting ...in fact, from now on, please just imagine that every other word is one.)

I pointed out that no he would only have to cut the edges.   At this point I was feeling stressed out, and suggested, calmly, that we went to the local DIY place and got something else.  ( My parquet floor wasn't going to happen.) 

Less than half an hour later we were back with some click-fit flooring.  He laid the underlay, and said it was too late to continue. It was.  He left saying "I don't know when I can come to finish it.". On reflection , maybe I should have just told him to bill me for what he'd done, and I would get someone else to finish it off.   I did point out that Thursday had forecast rain all day, he works outside a lot. 

Luckily I was up early Thursday, as he rang to tell me that was "pissing raining, so he'd be down to fit the click-fit. 

It was all day, every other word, mostly to himself, swearing. Grunts and groans every minute, barking orders at me, and he doesn't move around at a measured pace to get stuff done, he rushes, knocking things over, which causes more swearing, as he has to right things. You get the picture. I got so fed up with being spoken to like something that he wiped off his shoes, or worse, that I asked him point blank, if he spoke to his other customers like that. He of course saw nothing wrong with how he was speaking to me, and said yes. I just told him that I bet that he didn't. Then told him to speak to me normally, as I wasn't having him talk to me like that.  It quieted him down for a while, but after he left I was shaking, felt sick, and it had brought back to me exactly why I decided to divorce him back in 2000.  

A friend later told me that it was PTSD that I had just put myself through.  Well, never again will I ask him to do any jobs for me, neither paid, or a quick unpaid/usually bartered for.  Oh yes, I forgot to say that if he wants a pair of trousers turning up, or another small sewing job. I do them and never ask for payment.  Plus, while he was here I made him food to eat. 

So once I have paid him, I intend to distance myself.   For the good of my own mental health.

The wolf in Red Riding Hood

 Something just occured to me.  Bear with me...you must know that my mind goes off on tangents for no reason by now.

Anyway, I was playing Odd Socks, and all I needed to complete the Red Riding Hood set was the wolf, and this daft question popped into my head.

"Is it a cross-dressing wolf, or something similar?", because he...the wolf is always referred to as a he, never she, in any tales that have wolves as the "baddie". 

I don't need an answer, it just made me chuckle to think that the wolf might have been really unsettled having to dress up as a woman in order to fool, and hopefully eat Red Riding Hood. 

If my weird reflections make you smile, or chuckle, you're welcome.

Self checkout, boon or curse?

 You've probably all seen the things going round Facebook about self checkouts, and in some shops, a shop assistant will stand supervising the use of them. Also sometimes checking the receipts as folk leave the shop. 

This tale made me think it over. 

I won't use them as I am disabled, however the growing trend for self checkouts might be a good thing for some, for others chatting to the shop assistants might be their only contact with folk from one shopping trip to the next.  Back in the past, when I worked on a fruit and veg concession, there was a lady who would come in two or three times a week. My boss asked me why she did that. "Why doesn't she buy more at once? Then she wouldn't have to visit us as much."  As I knew the lady from when I had delivered milk, and collected milk money as a teenager , I told my boss that she lived alone. She would visit as much for a chat with us, as to buy her fruit and veg. 

So, the rise of self checkouts is isolating the elder generation, the people who live alone, and I can't help thinking that it could be contributing to the rise of dementia. 

An experience from a few weeks ago

 As some of you might know, I occasionally tutor.

Yesterday I went to meet a potential pupil, and their parents told me something that horrified me. 

As a lot of you will know, if you're required to have an up-to-date DBS certificate, if you're working with children, (there are other categories as well, such as vulnerable adults,).

However, when this family asked another potential tutor about it, he got all cagey, and advised them to look elsewhere.

My point is, if you are thinking of employing a tutor for your children, or maybe a carer for a vulnerable adult....ASK about the DBS certificate.. if the potential tutor has one, they will not be offended at being asked, and should either show you their actual certificate, or give you the unique number so that you can check it out for yourself.

There might have been a very good reason the other potential tutor, for this family, not having a DBS certificate, but I doubt it.  As my pupils come to me referred through an agency, and the agency has holding the DBS as a mandatory requirement to be on their books, any tutor from the same agency will be ok. 

This family asked about DBS, a CV and safeguarding prior to even meeting me though, which is the first time I have been asked.  I wasn’t concerned, as basically, when I meet the family, as I did yesterday, it is for all intents and purposes, a job interview, and as that, you should expect such questions. 

Stressful time

 This last week, or so has set my fibromyalgia off.

I occasionally tutor, and last week, after a few false starts, I finally got to meet the prospective pupil.  We seemed to get on ok, so tutoring started on Monday of this week, although at the meeting the next day, Friday, had been agreed upon. 

So after a "wild goose" chase on Friday, I finally got to tutor the pupil.   The session was meant to last two hours, but after just over 55 minutes, the pupil said that they needed the bathroom. After ten minutes, I became concerned, and apparently, they'd had enough, and gone to bed. 

Going on Tuesday, I did wonder if a repeat might be played out. However, not quite. I got a variation on a theme. The pupil had to be coaxed to be present in the room.  They didn't engage properly, and deliberately "banged" their head as an excuse to leave the room.

I am really sorry that tutoring didn't work out, but the pupil did not want a tutor, they wanted a captive audience for their antics. 

All  this has caused me stress and anxiety. I have been crying for seemingly no reason. So today I rang up and cancelled the agreement.  I feel sad about it, as the pupil obviously needs help and there was a glimmer of someone who could do well, if they chose to. 

Whoops! And this year's Panetone colour of the year is.....

 MAGENTA!

I usually blog about how picky the colour choice is, yet magenta is a lovely colour. Very vibrant, and much better than their wishy-washy choices for quite a few years. 

I can't think of much else to say, other than I actually like this "colour of the year" . 

Lovely Yule Feast.

 At one point I did think that I might not get to the Yule Feast this year. 

Since Edwin and his fiancee got themselves a couple of cats, and I don't have any furry friends at home, we have had the Yule feast at their house, barring Yule 2020, when we still had it, but via Zoom.

Anyway, back to this year. Oliver had arranged to come to home on Friday, during the day. I rang him around teatime, and he sounded dreadful. 

So I went ahead and prepared the deserts to take to Edwin and Becky's for Yule feast. Thinking to myself that it would take ages to eat them, if things didn't go as planned. 

Also, I had no idea when I would be back home.  No one had told me anything except that yule feast was on xmas eve this year. 

Saturday morning came, and still no word from Oliver.  I eventually got a call from Samantha saying that they would collect me, and take me with them.

We eventually ate, and played a couple of games, but none of us wanted to open presents until Oliver arrived. Which he did at 9.15pm.  He had been asleep most of the day, and he didn't look that well. 

The next day was Xmas day. Things were a little brighter. Sam and Lewis went to Lewis's mum's after breakfast. 

As a family we never over indulge in Xmas food. 

Anyway, Boxing Day, Oliver drove me home before going to spend Xmas version 2 at his dad's with the others. 

I had a flying visit from him yesterday before he drove back to Glasgow.

None of sounds entertaining, but when you spend a lot of time in your own company, it's nice to hav have a change. 

I'm still here.

 I know that I haven't been the most diligent blogger of late. Life has kinda got in the way. 

For the past two weeks I have been battling against a chest infection. I think that I might, at last, have the upper hand. 

That has completely worn me out. 

I am in the midst of creating knitted and crocheted items for Yule presents. I like doing this, but it's time consuming. Mind you, it keeps me out of mischief. 

In the next couple of weeks I have a few appointments, so I will be even busier.  

And thanks to a grant, some of my windows are being upgraded/replaced. That's happening tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday.  So no lie in, as they'll be here around 9-ish. 

Anxiety and other problems

 Before the pandemic started, between Xmas 2018 and December 2019, I had six diagnosed chest infections, and at the start of 2020, I had blood tests after seeing a respitory nurse.  At the start of May I received a text, a phone call, and a letter telling me that I had no pneumonia antibodies.  (I had been given the “once only” vaccine in 2009/2010, but for some reason it hadn’t been put on my vaccine record.)  As I had managed to catch repeated chest infections during the previous year, I was already steering clear of others, so I went out less and less.

Coupled with all the above, there was a new family moved in next door……an extremely noisy one, whose default mode was yell at each other.  Then my neighbour on the other side sold and I will admit that I was a little worried about who might move in, but as it had been bought, it didn’t worry me much.   

However, the family who moved in below me, seemed nice – at first – but I suppose they were just finding their feet.  They were super noisy, taking shouted phone calls outside, smoking weed, almost non-stop.  I felt under attack.  I had liked to potter around in my yard and alleyway, but I felt vulnerable doing this.  If I hung my washing out, it might come in stinking of weed, meaning that through no fault of my own, it needed another wash.  I even asked a like-minded friend what I needed to block negativity coming from them.  I was even pulling  the curtains whilst I ate at the kitchen table, as he would verbally abuse me for looking out of my window.  The remedy turned brown. 

It’s not all bad. The dreadful people moved out in February this year, and the people who moved in on the other side are lovely.  A friend and I are slowly trying to make the alleyway welcoming again, and the man who bought the other  side of me paid to have the rubbish the dreadful people had dumped in the alley shifted.  

But all this left me with anxiety that sometimes goes through the roof.  I’m trying to overcome it, and I know I can, but it could be a long road……but I have taken a few tentative steps on it.  Maybe I will get there. 

Flags would be out, if it wasn't so windy.

 Yesterday the morons from next door moved out! 😊😊

I'm so relieved that they have gone. And I  been told that they've gone back to where they came from.....so no danger of bumping into them in and around Morecambe. 

Almost ever since they moved in my anxiety has been through the roof.  With everything else that is going on I have felt pretty bad. 

Anyway, they managed to pack everything from a three storey Victorian terraced house into a transit type van.  So I reckon they must have left furniture, or didn't have it in the first place.   What staggers me is they have left their cat. It's just short of being completely feral, but I might try to get it used to me, and eventually adopt him.  The first thing he'll need is a visit to the vet, to have his crown jewels removed. 

What a month!

 On Xmas Day, Mum was walking back from my sister's house, with my sister and husband, when she fell. My sister said it was like her legs had just given way on her.  They then spent from 6pm until 3am with Mum in A and E.  Upshot was that she'd broken her hip/femur, right at the hip joint. She had an operation, partial hip replacement.  Then the hospital cancelled visiting due to the number of covid cases escalating. Eventually she came out, but they've confirmed that she has short term memory loss. She also has hearing loss, and has been referred to audiology, but she is unaware of that yet. 

Coupled with that, she seems to be losing lots of weight. When I eventually get hold of her on the phone, she struggles to keep focussed, and breaks calls off without reason other than she's just thought of something and must do it before she forgets. 

I don't have the best relationship with mum, but the changes in her health are distressing. 

Vaccinations.

 Before I put anything else, I want to point out that I am not anti, although it might read as if I am.

There's currently a big push to get all people over a certain age, plus vulnerable people to have a booster jab. The annual flu jab is also being offered. The government angle is, "to avoid further lockdown situations."

However, we are told in the next breath that the uptake of the first and second vaccines is somewhat lower in the younger age groups. (I also suspect that if the younger generation aren't having them, they won't be encouraging their high school aged children to have the vaccines.)

So essentially, older people are being vaccinated so that younger people can just carry on as normal. Or that's how it seems to me.  Maybe the cull didn't take enough and they're hoping for a further rise in the total? 

I'm having mine for personal reasons, and to keep others safe. Plus I still wear a mask in enclosed spaces and avoid going shopping at busy times.  Having disabilities maybe prepared me, and others, to be cautious around others.