Posted tagged ‘iphone’

Chopped Liver – Prove It

March 16, 2011


Earlier on today I re-read some of the posts I wrote from when I did them on my iPhone in the hospital – and was shocked to see so many typos, missing words, wrong words – it’s a wonder you guys had a clue what I was on about.

Now if only I knew of a proofreader I would have been sorted…. one might have thought.

So what to call this post? I immediately thought of a song I hadn’t heard in years – Prove It by the classic CBGB’s band Television. And then literally 5 minutes ago Steve Lamacq on BBC6Music played that very song – spooky spooky spooky. But it does give me the opportunity to say, what a phenomenal debut album Marquee Moon is – an album that delivered so much and … promised so much for the future, but get this, I put it to you that never has a band promised so much from a debut album yet failed to follow it up so spectactularly. Everything that followed Marquee Moon was second rate, third rate twaddle.

Ok Stone Roses first album fans may be screaming – Second Coming anyone? And I may have to doff my cap to you on that.

Now, I have a bone to pick on you guys. Well, not you actually cos you are actually reading this, but a number of my readers who are, well, not reading anymore. I know my recent posts have been a bit mundane, a bit lacking in excitement, lacking in blood and gore, euphoria and disappointment – I am fast becoming an ordinary person (see yesterday’s post) who once had a liver transplant but who has nothing further of interest to report.

You are like Grand Prix spectators that’s what you are. Formula 1 is dreadfully boring – unless there are spectactular crashes. As it’s live, it gets great audiences cos we wouldn’t want to miss seeing the cars flying through the air and landing on the roll-bar and rolling 50 times into oncoming traffic.

Well get this gore fans. Tomorrow I have an ERCP. That stands for … eh… stands for eh… Endoscopy. So tomorrow I have to go to the hospital where they will stick this tube down my throat and then, bizarrely, disconnect the bile-bag I have been attached to since my operation. Endoscopies are not pleasant, gore fans – you’ll like it – there will be gagging, discomfort, much drowsiness – maybe enough to bring some of you back.

So, there you have it – tell all your friends there is a chance of trauma tomorrow.


Chopped Liver – Learning To Fly

November 27, 2010

B found out from t’internet that the RAF Museum in Hendon was celebrating St. Andrews Day with lots of activities for children – including something about The Flying Scotsman. Apart from its name, quite what a train has to do with the RAF I am not entirely sure – but if you think I was going to pass up on an opportunity to take Weedy 5 mins down the road for an exhibition about trains and planes – you don’t know my Weedy!

So off we went. I asked at reception where the St. Andrews Day activities were taking place. Reception didn’t know there were any. She phoned someone up. They hadn’t heard of anything either and suggested I had the wrong place.

Then the phone rang – and it was the information that, yes indeed, there are some activities to be found in the children’s area.

I guess that much I could have probably worked out myself.

So we made for the children’s area and looked around for a life-size replica of The Flying Scotsman – or maybe even the real thing – or at least some people dressed up as… ah, here’s a (wo)manned information desk.

Excuse me… yada yada… Flying doobree wotsit… yada yada… where?

Oh, it’s on that table. She said this as she pointed to a little table about 3 feet away.

On said table, were some blank sheets of A4 paper. You can make your paper aeroplane with those – but please don’t fly them in the main hall.

So, that was it – we went all that way (5 mins drive… but that’s not the point!) for a piece of blank paper!

We made our aeroplanes. I made one too – well, had to get my money’s worth! And flew them, carefully avoiding the main hall – for fear of damaging any of the fighter jets that had withstood the might of the Luftwaffe 70 years ago!

After about, oh, 16 seconds, we decided to have a look around the museum – at one point we went up some stairs to view inside a cockpit.

Oh look there’s a British Airways thingy – shouts Weedy, as he races down the same flight of stairs. However, in his haste and excitement, he lost his footing half way down and went… flying.

Hey, Bart, enough already!

Crash Bang Wallop. Thankfully not Snap Crackle and Pop!

He was very shocked at the bottom and did what any 6 year old would do. I genuinely think he would have hurt himself a lot more and probably caused a lot more damage were it not for the fact that he is very floppy-limbed – a bit rubbery. He seemed to just bounce down the stairs.

I had to get out my iPhone – let him play with it for a few minutes – till he forgot about it and was able to walk around again.

I hear it also makes phone calls, y’know.

Now there… are 3…. steps to… carry a donor card – ooh, wap wap!
Just follow steps 1, 2 and 3.

Chopped Liver – The Shoop Shoop Song

September 12, 2010

It’s been a fraught few days. My mum has been down to stay. Second time on her own since my father died, Second time travelling to London on where she has had to be self-dependent. To say she was dependent on my dad is an understatement – she used his eyes, his ears, and whatever other useful senses she could muster.

But now she is on her own and becoming ever more forgetful, ever more irrational and well…it’s really tough. Tough for her. Tough for the rest of us.

Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m not having a go – in fact I show some of the same signs myself – but then I am hoping it may be related to my liver condition – a dodgy liver plays tricks with the mind you know – no serious… it does.

My mum is going back home tomorrow. Tonight was the inevitable bag-packing trauma. This was a time my dad never looked forward to – I call it the “Where’s my…?” show. This time there was no dad to plea to. And so we had an evening which shall be forever known as the Two Shoe Show.

Part One. My mum has a mobile phone. It doesn’t get used much but she needs it to call her helper at the other end of the journey, so she had to charge it – but she couldn’t find it. Look, there are not many places this phone could be – she only came down to London with… well, she came down to London with 5 bags actually but that’s not the point – the phone was not to be found. It must have lodged itself under a cushion or behind a … oh I dunno – this turned into a most fraught evening.

Part Two. During the search for the phone, I found a shoe in one of the 5 bags. The more observant amongst you may have noticed the use of the singular in the previous sentence. So I enquired of my mum where perhaps the other shoe was. This caused further fraughtness. It was all a bit sad. A bit too much for her… and me. I’ll skip to the chase. I found the other shoe in one of the other bags – ’nuff said.

Part One (reprise). We had decided that my mum will have to do without the phone. It’ll turn up somewhere sometime – let’s stop worrying about it now. So we stopped looking. There were still a couple of items to be packed or moved towards the door. For example… a pair of shoes for the journey. So my mum picked up the first shoe – and hey, guess what was in the shoe? Of course – the mobile phone. Put there as it was the one place where she would notice it and NOT leave it behind. A smart move, perhaps – but you do kinda have to remember where you put it if you want to use it. Oh, and by the way, for you smart geezers out there shouting “Why did you not just call it and follow the ring?” I did. It was switched off – ‘natch.

“Well”, my mum said. “That was a all bit stupid, wasn’t it? I really put my foot in it.”

No Mum – if you had really put your foot in it – you’d have found the damned phone!

It’s tough for my mum – at times like these you realise… she realises… just how isolated she is – and how she has a lot more adjustments to make in her life. She’s not really ready to face these changes. She may not know how to do it. She has relied on her long-term partner to have jumped to her beck and call – but she has to learn a new independence now – at her age – tough, very tough.

Now there… are 3…. steps to… carry a donor card – ooh, wap wap!
Just follow steps 1, 2 and 3.

Chopped Liver – Trust Yourself

September 9, 2010

I have been asked by the British Liver Trust to write a piece for their bi-annual magazine. The topic is about me, my fundraising and my blog. Below is what I’ve just knocked up and intend to send to them. I reproduce it here for these reasons:-

a) It saves me writing another blog post today
b) I’d like your feedback
d) what happened to c)?
c) ah, there it is
e) I think it’s quite appropriate after almost 200 posts and the completion of 6 months since I started to re-visit why I’m doing this

    The Article

Dealing with the news that you need a liver transplant affects people in different ways – dependent on your physical state at the time. If your liver is functioning so poorly that it affects your daily existence, then this news should be greeted with optimism and eager anticipation.

However, if, as in my case, I am able to function fairly normally, save for bouts of colangitis, then dealing with the situation is less straightforward. How much longer can I get away with a failing liver? Weeks? Months? Years?

How is it I can feel fine some of the time and yet still have to face such a life-changing operation?

I decided to put my faith and trust in the team of medical experts to deal with my physical state in the best way they can – and I will concentrate on my mental well-being.

We live in the age of communication and information at our fingertips, on our desk PCs, on our mobile phones, so let’s seize this opportunity and bear all as I travel on my journey of discovery. I am naturally a private person so this was somewhat of an anathema to me, but I started writing a daily blog of my feelings.

Topics ranged from the gory needle-fest of my medical assessment, through personal events that affected my personal life e.g. the recent death of my father, the death of one of my fellow-transplant patients. Both of those events had a direct bearing on my emotional state.

As regards my father’s passing, I had to leave London to attend to affairs and funeral activities so had to temporarily leave the transplant waiting list – not something I was keen to do. The death of my “colleague” brought home two factors to me:- 1) that this is no joke and 2) that we all suffer from different conditions and we should not let the misfortunes of others hi-jack our positive attitude – especially as the general prognosis is good-to-excellent for many.
And so I continue to write my daily blog and yes, it has turned out to be a cathartic exercise for me, and perhaps an inspiration for others. But, more than that, I feel that I not alone. Sure, I have loving and caring family and friends, but I also have an unknown audience out there who never miss my daily postings. I know this as, one day I had not written my blog post by 23:30 and I got a “tweet” on Twitter from someone I did not even know asking if I was alright.

Ah, social media. Twitter and Facebook have really transformed the way we communicate – we live our lives in the moment – we live in global real time – and this helps knowing that when I need to bare all about my feelings – I tweet, and it is seen. And I have made a community of friends in Twitterland from interested people, and transplanted people, and people just like myself – on the list.

I can add links in every posting and on my blog page to show people just how easy it is to register as an organ donor, or to contribute to the liver charity page I set up using JustGiving – and it thrills me when I hear from people that they want to thank me – just for giving them the kick-up they needed to click my link and register.

It has been 6 months now since I was told I needed the transplant – 6 months of daily blog posts. I’ve had my ups and my downs – and they are all there for people to read.

Now there… are 3…. steps to… carry a donor card – ooh, wap wap!
Just follow steps 1, 2 and 3.