Porridge

Serenade

2007-11-13T22:38:00.000Z

Softly, pleading flows my singing
through the night to you.
Down to that still copse entreating
Love, I’ll wait for you.

Whispering, slender treetops rustling
in the moonlit glade,
of a traitor’s hostile listening.
Don’t, my love, be afraid.

Nightingales, you hear them singing?
Ah, they beg of thee,
with their notes and sweet complaining,
now they plead for me.

Well they know the heart’s desire
Well know lover’s pains.
Touching with their silver lyre
all heart’s finest strains.

Let also your heart be moved,
Love, oh hear me now!
Trembling, do I wait beloved,
come, your kiss bestow.

A beautiful translation of Ludwig Rellstab's poem (by my clever friend Ariel).
The original poem, in German, was set to music by Schubert for a 'Standchen.' Of all the translations I've read of this poem, Ariel's is the most beautiful.

21 Things I Want in a Lover

2007-10-30T20:44:00.000Z

Do you derive joy when someone else succeeds? Do you not play dirty when engaged in competition? Do you have a big intellectual capacity but know That it alone does not equate wisdom? Do you see everything as an illusion? But enjoy it even though you are not of it? Are you both masculine and feminine? politically aware? And don't believe in capital punishment? These are 21 things that I want in a lover Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer Do you derive joy from diving in and seeing that Loving someone can actually feel like freedom? are you funny? la self-deprecating? like adventure? and have many formed opinions?These are 21 things that I want in a lover Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer I figure I can describe it since I have a choice in the matter These are 21 things I choose to choose in a lover I'm in no hurry I could wait forever I'm in no rush because I like being solo There are no worries and certainly no pressure in the meantime I'll live like there's no tomorrow Are you uninhibited in bed? more than three times a week? Up for being experimental? are you athletic? Are you thriving in a job that helps your brother? are you not addicted?...curious and communicative...

Indian Proverb

2007-10-29T10:43:00.000Z

"'Everyone is a house with four rooms - a physical, a mental, an emotional, and a spiritual. Most of us tend to live in one room most of the time; but unless we go into every room every day even if only to keep it aired, we are not a complete person."

The Final Disappearance of Wit

2007-10-14T21:58:00.001+01:00

It's been about four months since Wit disappeared one summer's evening in July. One day she was sleeping on my bed with Nighty, the next some French visitors disturbed her slinked and she went outside, never to be seen again. Should I blame the French? It's tempting... ;-)

Poor old Wit. I imagine she impaled herself, or was shot, or got run over, or was eaten by a fox. We liked her, and Nighty misses her. Sometimes. When she's really, really bored.

We're moving house in two weeks and she won't be coming because she doesn't exist.

Poor old Wit. Never lived to see two years.

We lead a witless existence.

Buttercup Boy

2007-10-12T10:53:00.000+01:00

You come into my dreams as if nothing's different! Who asked you? Each night we talk and move, or dance and squabble. You don't want to leave me alone and mostly I don't mind as I don't want to leave you alone either. Where did you go, by the way? Do you still lie in that yellow and green summer field?

Psychiatrist Needed

2007-06-12T23:12:00.000+01:00

...becuase I saw a screaming skull in the pattern made by the shampoo as it slid down the inside of the shower.

Something's very wrong. :-0

Reflexology

2007-06-06T23:03:00.000+01:00

I keep getting a suddenly itchy left foot. What does this signify? I'm about to come into money? I've got cancer of the ovaries? Good luck will bless my family for the next ten years? I'm developing athlete's foot?

Knee News: Two Set-Backs

2007-06-06T23:01:00.000+01:00

Overall, I have had two set-backs to my knee in the past 13 months. One was that the original graft was not harvested or put in correctly, which meant that it partially came out after a few months and caused a blockage in my knee. This caused me never to be able to get full extension, which caused me to get arthritis in my knee. I needed a second oepration to clean out all the scar tissue that had formed and debride the patella. Second setback was when I fell down the stairs at nine months post op, just before my second op, and the knee felt unstable for the first time since the ACL reconstruction operation. Internal examination revealed fresh blood and damage around the inside my knee. Swelling lasted for a few days and sorenes for a couple of weeks then it was fine - but then right away I had the second operation.

I am also worried about a potential third set-back, although I hope this won't amount to anything. However, I played an hour and a half of badminton last night - a mere nothing by my old standards, but after that my knee was so sore I could barely walk. WHY?? The soreness was coming from a new spot now - just below the kneecap just to the right of the patella tendon. It was so sore in there that it was preventing full extension. Suddenly. Never had this pain before. And it's been like this today as well. I have FORCED the leg straight several times - just standing on it and easing it back until it reaches straight - but it does hurt. What could this be I wonder? Could this be the last bit of the graft finally coming out? I hope not. Knees can be so sore for no apparent reason, even after such a long time..

Operation Failure

2007-02-19T15:49:00.000Z

The second surgeon I went to see told me straight out that the original surgeon had done the operation wrongly, meaning that my graft was bound to fail, and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

If the femoral and tibial tunnels are drilled at the wrong angle, even just slightly, there will be friction between the cruciate ligaments (the new graft and the original posterior one) or between the graft and the bones. Something will catch, something will get rubbed away, damage will be caused to internal structures. Anterior cruciate ligament reconstructions simply can't work unless they're done exactly right. It's an exact science! Otherwise the new graft can act like a cheese wire between the joints, or just get caught and act as a door wedge. I think the remaining 50% of mine is doing both of these things...

In my post op MRI the radiologist wrote "there is friction between the posterior cruciate ligament and the new graft." Here was proof.

In addition, the graft that was harvested from my hamstring at the time of the operation was too short. I know this because that's what Mr. XXX said during the operation - I was awake at the time, having chosen to have a spinal block rather than a general anaesthetic.

During the second operation the graft was found to have been ripped out at the bottom, sticking into the intercondular notch, preventing full extension of the leg. In other words, no matter what exercises I did, and how much I tried, I would never have been able to straighten my leg as the end of the graft was peeled back and lodged between the knee joint, getting in the way (like a door stop). Mechanically, it couldn't happen.

Basically this means I'm in a similar position to what I was before I had the first operation, except worse, since now there is a lot of damage that's happened in the meantime due to walking about with a bent knee for eight months. I would have been MUCH BETTER OFF not having the operation at all, or, of course, getting it done by someone who could do the job correctly.

Unfortunately for me, I now pay the price of a botched job and cannot do any sports. This is quite gutting since I used to do sports very often. In fact I remember clearly playing badminton eight nights a week several times! I used to go to the gym often and I jogged 5k three times a week. One side of my life has been UTTERLY RUINED by this half-hearted operation. Now I can do none of these activities.

As you can tell, I'm very angry about it, and will be thinking hard about what to do about my feelings, and where to project my energies.

I'm not too happy about the second surgeon as he only admitted that it was done wrongly when I repeated what my physio had said, which was that the scar tissue around the broken end of the graft was old and not newly formed, so it couldn't have happened when I fell down the stairs only two weeks before the op - although that's what the second surgeon let me believe. Besides this, he perved at me in the mirror, not shutting the door when I had to change and staring at my body when I thought I was in private. I caught him at it as our eyes met in the mirror - my expression outraged, his embarrassed. When I go back I'm going to pointedly bring Howard and shut the door between treatment room and office myself, making sure I say loudly, "just for a bit of PRIVACY."

I'm considering a third opinion, a third surgeon. I think I need to sue for compensation and I think I need someone I can TRUST and who will be on my side. Trouble is, I liked my original surgeon, Mr. XXX as a person, and I don't want to cause him any problems. But I need.... something.... to be done, to be said, to be admitted.... something... I just get consumed by the bad luck of it all. The anger is rather dominant!

I see my physio tomorrow and will go armed with questions and ideas. She is a lovely lady and I do feel I can trust her. I need some answers.

Meanwhile, I'm learning to walk again. But going downstairs and jogging are completely impossible due to agony behind the kneecap, caused by eight months of walking with a bent knee - the result of the graft failing, and possibly of it being done too tightly in the first place. It seems to me as if the entire operation that Mr. XXX did was utterly botched from the start.

A Beautiful Poem (not written by me)

2006-08-16T17:49:00.000+01:00

I kiss your face a thousand times
Again, again again.
I close your eyelids, smooth your hair
and fold your gentle hands.
Butterfly wings that beat against
the domed ceiling of this life
flutter free now in the open air.
And I will whisper this truth
into the viewless winds:
I love you. I love you. I love you.

If the master of the house beats a tambourine...

2006-08-13T21:56:00.000+01:00

......do not condem his family for dancing.

But in our family we dance to each other's tunes. :-)

The Triumphant Return of Wit!

2006-07-25T23:23:00.000+01:00

A phone call the other day greatly surprised me. The vet rang from a nearby town saying that they had my cat. I was surprised since I hadn't lost a cat, then I remembere Wit, the little kitten who left us four months ago. Of course she would be bigger now. But I was even more surprised to hear that she was nursing three two-day-old kittens. The vet asked if I could come and collect her now. I was rather stunned. I went from being the owner of one seven-year-old (mature) cat, Nighty, to the owner of five cats, three of them newborn kittens. I needed time to swallow the information and get my breath back.

Of course I collected her and was really delighted to have her with us once more. Strange thing when you condem someone as dead, believe they're gone for good, and then they turn up, as well as ever. You have to do some quick mental adjustments.

Wit is back for good, more dominating that ever with her three lively, growing babies..

I jogged!!

2006-07-20T12:25:00.000+01:00

I went to my mum's gym - and after doing a body pump class (lunges with weights etc etc) I went over to the treadmill and stared at it. I thought, "the PT has told me to be more confident, to jump and hop - so surely that means I could do a little teeny weeny jog...?" I stepped on, took a deep breath and set the machine to a slow walk, gradually increasing it until I was actually jogging! I was so pleased!! Big huge grin on zengirl's face. I must have done four complete minutes of jogging before I went back down to a walk again. My knee was sore, aching... but not a bad ache, I think a good ache - you know you can tell the difference.

So now I really want to join the gym. Since my mum goes practically every day I could get a lift with her so it would make it financially worth while. She only lives round the corner.

I know if I went to the gym and did that..say... three times a week I'd be really, seriously strong and fit in a couple of months time.

Back on Court - Naughty Girl

2006-06-23T16:56:00.000+01:00

Today I went back on the badminton court for the first time since my operation and I RESISTED the temptation to move my feet. The only trouble is now I have a huge, fluid-filled blister on the inside of my ...................................... finger.

I wouldn't recommend to anyone going on court only five weeks post op unless they're really sure of their partner's skill (as I was). I didn't have to move my feet at all, but I practiced smashing and driving and just generally getting the shuttlecock back over the net at a good speed. God, it was good to be back, and I REALLY DID want to move and get into it, but I knew there was just no way I could. Each time the shuttlecock went just a little ouit of my way my partner would shout LEAVE IT - like a command to a labrador, and I withdrew my racquet and let it fall to the floor.

Nonetheless, I noticed plenty of sweat running down my chest and it felt really good.

OMG I ran for the train!

2006-06-11T18:25:00.000+01:00

Yes.... it was a ridiculous spectacle. We had one minute to go before the train left platform 9B at Kings Cross and we were in the main lobby by the indicator board. Oh dear. Zengirl's gammy leg is not going to make it for sure. But we want to try; it's a very good train and is fast to our destination and we are tired.. Otherwise we face a wait late at night and.. No, no, let's try and get this train. Quick... come on... walk as fast as you can... Ok, pant, pant, I'm GOING TO DO THIS!!! A kind of weird shuffle/jog/lurch was born, as I speedily made my way down the concourse. I think my arms were doing the crawl but my legs were doing the hurdles/ice skating... I started cracking up under the pressure. My boyfriend was at first walking alongside me, then walking a little ahead, pulling me by the hand, then really dragging me along, and then POP! our hands parted and he legged it away to the train! I was left staggering, hoping, and swimming alone, in a desperate and stupid effort to get to the platform on time. Just then I heard the loud whistle of the train as it prepared to depart. I started laughing at myself, knowing it was really impossible, when I realised that they were actually holding the train for me. My boyfriend had told them I'd hurt my leg and couldn't go fast - they waited a few seconds and I GOT ON THE TRAIN!!!

Oh glorious feeling ==> I WAS PANTING AND SWEATING!!! Oh lovely fast beating heart....! I was out of breath and panting at last, and I could really feel my heart thump (just from a little weeny jog – pathetic but true. After three months of slow steady beating.)

Luckily I didn't fall over and do any damage - that could have happened - but luckily didn't. So now I know for sure: I can't run at all, but I can swim in the air.

Why is it shocking?

2006-05-03T22:57:00.000+01:00

She's white, pregnant, disabled and naked. And she stis atop a tall, tall plinth in Trafalgar Square, London. I'm from the Home Counties so I was shocked. It was because I was confronted with an image that was so public and looked so defiant, when I had already decided it shouldn't be so public. It was kind of embarrassing. An image of someone completely nude and disabled AND pregnant shouldn't be so... so.. defiant and powerful. Is that it...? Or, if I'm honest, am I just sick and tired of yet another naked female body in public?

I am lucky

2006-04-23T18:51:00.000+01:00

I've got friends who I really love. And it's such a blessing. :-)

Teeth

2006-03-19T10:21:00.000Z

I wonder if, when I yawn near my cat, she inwardly scoffs at my unimpressive array of teeth? If my daughter yawned near her it'd be a different story since when she opens her mouth the world is confronted by a few small teeth, but a large amount of (glittery) plastic and quite a bit of metal. It's pretty impressive, until she tries to say something, and then it's, "shsooiuoshlolnshelsheaash."

We Miss Wit

2006-03-14T18:51:00.000Z

Wit has gone. Last seen Friday 10th March in the morning.
Wit left the house (presumably for a brief trip) but was never seen again.
It's all very sad.

Could have been nabbed by a fox, chased into oblivian by a mad raving dog, or run over by a car, or trapped in someone's garage or shed...

All options are horrible. So now we live without Wit.

We're Going to Start Emitting Odours

2006-03-09T11:53:00.000Z

So now two plugs don't work in the house. One plug is used to turn on the shower - so now we can't wash because there is no bath either; and the other gives power to the washing machine, so we can't wash our clothes.

Now what does one do?

Question

2006-03-06T17:18:00.000Z

It's not necessary to scratch every itch.

So why do I?

Cats are Great

2006-02-25T19:12:00.000Z

"Of all God's creatures there is only one that cannot be made the slave of the leash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat."

- Mark Twain Notebook, 1894

A Proverb from China...

2006-02-25T10:51:00.000Z

A peasant must stand a long time on a hillside with his mouth open, before a roast duck flies in.

Swallows of Kabul

2006-02-17T23:42:00.000Z

After 36 years in the Algerian military, Mohamed Moulessehoul knows all about war. But now that he's beaten his sword into a pen, it may prove mightier. Even before he left the Army to live in France, Moulessehoul had started writing under his wife's name, Yasmina Khadra, to avoid military censors. His latest novel is a surgical strike against fundamentalism more penetrating than anything the Pentagon could devise.

'The Swallows of Kabul,' a popular and critical success in France, tells the story of two doomed couples in the Afghan capital, ruined and ruled by Taliban soldiers.

Darwin's Theory

2006-02-17T09:48:00.000Z

...Darwinian man, though well-behaved,
at best is only a monkey shaved.