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My First Attempt at having a..........Bone Scan
Sound a bit sore doesn’t it? So, why did I have one? Knackered joints. And I’m far too young for all that nonsense.
Well, after years of riding motorbikes in my wild youth, I was fine apart from crunching my left knee whilst riding up a Welsh hill and slipping on some wet leaves. Grating one’s knee against a stone wall is eye watering to say the least, and I got a free ride in an ambulance, to the local hospital in Bridgend.
The other falls were when I was a pillion passenger, free ambulance ride in London somewhere made me realise that having these accidents were not much fun. Although I had been thrown off a motorbike and run over by the one beside me, I didn’t have the broken arm that they first thought, thanks to the spanners and other miscellaneous tools I had in my leather jacket pockets. No - it was time to get a car licence and enjoy the warmth and comfort of a car.
My hands and legs had been soaked, frozen and defrosted so many times, I know all those years ago that there would be problem in the future. That, and going though phases of doing martial arts, my hands and joints never really stood a chance! I needed a car!
That was the theory anyway. I passed my car test first time (it had taken three for the blasted motorbike – and I’d had a telling off from the examiner, he told me that I’d passed , driving carefully around Mutley Plain as the speedometer on the motorbike didn’t work. He said “ I’m pleased to tell you that you have passed your exam” then he pointed his finger and wagged it with each of the next words, “ But if you were my daughter….”
I bought my fisrt car off my work colleague’s husband, a mark 1 Ford escort, complete with a roof rack. It was a lemon. A very expensive lemon.
It didn’t put me off driving though, as a few years later, I got my bus licence (passed on the second attempt, no mean feat doing a hill start in one in Barry!), and my HGV2 lorry test (first attempt – I got to drive a lorry in a pink top wearing lipstick – one of my ambitions) taken in the bumpy road of Hull.
Too late though. I didn’t realise that elderly bigger vehicles can have swines of gearboxes and clutches. Driving in Germany meant that both sides got it.
Anyhow, enough rambling.
The bone scan.
As nothing meaningful showed up on my x-rays, I was summoned to the very friendly Blackpool Victoria hospital. It was not a nice though having nuclear medicine injected into my trembling vein, but in it went, ad I have a few hours to kill while it worked it’s way around the miles of veins in my body. Nice. Not.
Finally.. the moment came, I was placed onto a table to lie down and relax. Then this large thing was pulled over my head, and I had to lie really still. Not easy when the urge to sneeze came when it went over my head. Made of stronger stuff that I am, I resisted it and enjoyed the sensation of a fizzy nose instead.
Now, I’ve been in Lancashire for almost a year now. I love the people , the food and of course, the beer! Needless to say, the knee joints started to complain bitterly.
Sadly, the food and beer obviously loved me too, because by the time the thing had slowly worked it’s way towards my midriff, I had worked out that it was a bit like an automatic car wash, where this hefty appliance moved up and down over the lumps and bumps on the human body.
I have to say, I was most affronted when it got my tummy, as the thing moved upwards in a way to say to me “You fat bugger!”.
The result? Well the scan was on the Friday, so I stared the diet on the Monday, losing 8kbs the 1st week and 2 lbs the 2nd.
So, the question people ask – bone scan – does it hurt?
The answer, only my feelings!
Submitted by Chubster
My First Ever Boot Sale.....
I
am a gentle, naïve person who moved into a house too small to house my
lifetime of hoardings, so, I packed a few boxes and the kids into the
cars and headed off into the early morning mist for Great Birchwood.
Easy
I thought! Well, no sooner had I switched off the engine and hobbled
out of the car, a lone woman appeared ghost-like from the mist
muttering “Any toiletries or jewellery?”
She was soon followed by a motley crew who zoomed in on my clueless daughter who offered them the bargain of 5 DVD’s for £1.00!
Greedily,
they snatched them away, leaving me gasping like a grounded fish and
having to restrain myself from strangling said child.
What
could I do? I restrained myself from looking at any of the stall as I
made my way towards the toilets mid-morning in case I saw my 20p DVD’s
being sold for at least 5 times that. Grrrr.
No-one had warned me that these vultures prey on you as soon as you arrive.
So I’ll prepare you.
1. Unpack your rubbish first - if they want it, they can have it!
2. Refuse to make any sales until you have set up your table
3. Take lots of plastic carrier bags
4. Wear socks
5. Take hot food and drink
6. Make sure there's a toilet on site, and take someone with you to guard your table for admin breaks
7. Have eyes in the back of your head (if you're a parent, you will alrady have them)
8. Enjoy yourself! If you like people watching, it’s the place to go!A Night At The Cube
I was a little doubtful about a nightclub opening in the quiet area of Kirkham, so I went along to see what it was really like.
I dropped in on the Thursday afternoon and a very helpful member of staff showed me around and I have to say that I was really impressed how light and airy the inside of the building is.
There are non-smoking areas and a smokers room at the back of the bottom area which caters for everyone.
The building also has a lift and a toilet for the disabled. The modern stairway runs around the back of the building, which in daytime, offers you a lovely view of Kirkham as you climb higher.
The building looks very modern inside and the fact that the
developers have sensitively restored a lot of the original touches, like the
gorgeous original stair case and the trim around the ceilings, a fantastic old
fashioned door and the original staff quarters on the loft has still got the
wooden rafters in the ceiling.
The bar staff were very friendly and helpful, and the toilet was very clean which is one place I tend to check. Once again, no complaints!
I chatted to the PA, and I was told that the staff are mainly from Kirkham & Wesham, which is fantastic as this business is providing work within this immediate area. Just what we need.
The body guards may be Grant Mitchell from Eastenders look-alikes, but they all were very polite.
The middle floor had a disco, and considering that the Army
had returned from the
On the top floor, the wine bar area was busy, and the music level was again, low enough to be able to have a decent conversation. It was not too smoky either which was a nice surprise. A singer was in one area with a guitar, singing in intervals which was pleasant, the music was quiet, but could be heard in the area near the singer, but it did not block out conversations as it was in the background, giving the wine bar a cosy and intimate atmosphere.
I have never been into a nightclub type place like that before, the fact that there were people of all ages enjoying their time there, and there was no trouble at all showed me that it is possible to please everyone.
It is not a place for the youngsters, or for the older members of the area, it is for everyone. All they need to is behave and respect other people and the building itself.
CCTV is visible, and all I could see was crowds of people having a great time.
Yours aye,
Reiki
In the frozen tundra of
So, it was with a bit of trepidation that I agreed to give reiki a go…….. naturally, I had read the blurb first:
“Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that
also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is
based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us
and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is
low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we
are more capable of being happy and healthy.
The word Reiki is made of two Japanese words - Rei which means
"God's Wisdom or the Higher Power" and Ki which is "life force
energy". So Reiki is actually "spiritually guided life force
energy."
A treatment feels like a wonderful glowing radiance that flows through
and around you. Reiki treats the whole person including body, emotions, mind
and spirit creating many beneficial effects that include relaxation and
feelings of peace, security and wellbeing. Many have reported miraculous
results”.
The first thing that I notice when I enter any premises is the atmosphere. I’m a very sensitive soul really and don’t do bad vibes.I wasn’t to worry, because as soon as I went into Sunworld~Rainbowray in Wesham, I noticed the very relaxing atmosphere.
Before embarking on the unknown, I was shown to the treatment room which was softly lit and very relaxing music was playing in the background. Jan, who owns the shop and is the reiki Master (five years training to get that title) told me all about the reiki treatment what it involves and what benefits it can give.
If you are a stress monster like me, then this is the very thing! That and a knackered knee ensured that I was indeed the ideal candidate!
Keen to embark on this journey of peace and tranquillity, I then helped fill in the obligatory form, and then clambered up onto the treatment table.
Before starting, Jan again explained what was about to happen and asked me if that was ok. I said that it was, closed my eyes and concentrated on being open minded.
The first thing that I felt was the feeling of heat on my head. The fact that I was not being touched made it all the more fascinating. The feeling then went to my face, and without being touched, it felt as is my face was being massaged. Most odd but very relaxing.
The similar sensations travelled all down, (at each stage, I was told what was to happen and asked if it was ok), towards my bad knee was creaking and groaning in impatience, as it apparently wanted the energy to be drawn towards it. I had to open my eyes in the end (as I was born a Thomas, famous for doubting) to check if I was really being treated without being touched. I was!
At certain points, hands, stomach and knees, Jan asked if was ok to try the actual ‘laying of hands’. I said it was, and when this happened, the feeling of the heat was intensified and the areas being touched tingled with what I can only guess is the energy.
Eventually, the knee got it’s own way, and I kid you not, the knee tingled, got hot and then felt, well, let’s put it this way - it wasn’t hurting. Considering that I have to take a cocktail of little pills each day to keep it going, I was gob smacked.
They say that a reiki session lasts between 45 mins – I½ hours – so as I totally lost track of time, I cannot say for certain how long I was being treated for.
What I CAN tell you are the benefits that I gained.
My knee was amazing, it was pain
free for almost a week, and that is not mean feat! I bumped in to a lady stood
at the bus stop next the train station, and between us, we worked out that her
bus left from the
As my knee was on fine form, I managed to frog march her to the market in the 10 minutes, and felt awful towards the end as she then informed me that she is 73!! Muriel (or Mo), I salute you!
I also felt very relaxed and calm which lasted until last Friday, but that is another story…but having got over the Friday from hell, I still feel at peace.
I hate taking pills and potions, especially the chemical mixtures that a lot of time stretched Doctors throw at you to shut you up. So - people of Kirkham & Wesham, if you are enjoying the dubious benefits of stress or depression, by-pass the Doctor’s and visit
Sunworld~Rainbowray.
For a mere £25.00 (the lowest price I have been quoted, the previous one was around £40.00!) you will benefit far more with this peaceful treatment.
Email: sunworld-rainbowray@tiscali.co.uk
Web: www. sunworld-rainbowray.2ya.com
Address: 24,
Train Spotting
Just imagine it.. warm sunshine on your back keeping you warm, the peaceful atmosphere of a small crowd of strangers all chatting to each other and laughing about the times they did not catch their prey.
Lovely view of Shap Summit
There we were, a group of hunters, waiting the catch the fire-breathing beast as it came towards us.
I had never met trainspotters before, and yes, they still do have notebooks with trains numbers, these days, they are to remind them where their digital pictures were taken. I always thought that they were sad little people, so I was pleased to meet a few only to find out that they were a real collection of people from every type of background, and they were easy to chat to and when I looked at the men, I saw the little boy's eyes lighting up with excitement in their eyes, enjoying a peaceful, gentle pastime together. All I can say is, don't knock it until you try it! I now know that these people are not sad, but they enjoy seeing perfect engineering working perfectly!
Some of the nice chaps that we met..
My
Uncle Mick had worked on the Mallard many years ago, and he used to
show me his thumb which had been injured on the steam train, That’s
when I fell in love with steam trains. I used to visit the
As
it was a Bank Holiday, we decided to go the Shap Summit to see the
beautiful steam train chuffing up the hill. I learnt more that I meant
to that day, the train is a makes a loud purring noise as it swept up
the hill, as it is a 3 cylinder engine!
We
stood with these people for over an hour, at the road behind the Tebay
motorway services, looking down the Shap Summit. The atmosphere became
exciting as the time crept towards 15.40hrs, and the hunters raised
their cameras as the fluffy flumes were puffed up above the trees in
the distance.
No,
this was not a dream, but the first time I had waited for a train in
this situation. Before long, I finally caught her on my camera, the
train that holds the record for running up the Shap Summit. Here's what
I caught:
The Duchess of Sutherland Running up Shap Summit
Waiting for a train that that is a little like cooking a wonderful meal, time taking and gone in seconds. It was well worth the wait.
I had sent off the the Railway Touring Company in King's Lynn for a badly written programme which cost me £5. A nice chap told me that he uses the Mainline Steam Tour Programme 2007, so there you go - a free tip that will save you a fiver!
Have you ever wondered where the little road that goes between the two lanes in the M6? Go behind the Tebay services (Northbound) go past the hotel, turn right and get onto the service road. You come to a great little road which you drive like Jeremy Clarkson on bromide. Shap has a few nice little pubs, where we had a meal, and after the train spotting time, we went back and went to a lovely little village called Orton. Why? I'm a female and it has a chocolate factory!
Kennedy's Fine Chocolates Ltd are based in the old School, and when you go into the shop, you can see the ladies through the glass making the chocolates. I can recommend the ice cream!
You can find out more about the factory by having a look at:
The village itself is gorgeous and has a Temprance Hotel and an old stock near the lovely Norman church. Well worth a stroll around whilst you are eating your ice cream!
The next chance of enjoying a day out at Shap Summit is: THE CUMBRIAN MOUNTAIN EXPRESS on Saturday 9th June 2007. THE CITADEL EXPRESS on Saturday 23rd June 2007. You need to go to the website for the times which are not yet available as of 10th April 2007.
The Lancaster Bomber and the Guinea Pig
You see, what most people don’t realise, is that people of this particular age are actually quite fascinating. They have lived.
Mother had decided to visit sunny Lancashire, and as she insisted on bringing her “floating bedroom” (AKA a very small Ariba caravan filled with her paraphernalia), and one small five month old Norwich terrier, I was in for a treat!
It wasn’t long before one gentle faced gentlemen soon found himself coming unstuck as he had knelt down to pet the little dog. The hydraulics in his legs appeared to fail when trying to get up again. So, as you do, a chair and a bottle of water was offered and he sat down, smiling benignly.
After a little idle chit chat, I noticed that this lovely gentleman was wearing a badge on his T-Shirt. I have since found a drawing of it to make it clearer:
Accustomed to the working of the RAF, I couldn’t puzzle this one out. I’ve heard about pigs might fly, but had the RAF gone mad? No it seems, this enigma was actually a member of the guinea pig club. I must therefore introduce this youthful looking 83 year old Flight Sergeant Alan Morgan (Retired).
Air Engineer Alan was part of a Lancaster Bomber crew on 49 Sqn and due to celebrate his 21st birthday. Instead of being able to go home for his birthday, he went to Stuttgart instead in a Lancaster JB421. After the bombs had been dropped for the plane, they turned round and headed for home, but the plane was rocked by a heavy blast of flak over the target. This blew the rear door open.
The plane was flying at 22,000 feet at the time, which meant that it was icy cold and that oxygen was needed. The Wireless operator, Frank Campbell was sent to close the door, which was no mean feat as struggling though the inside of a Lancaster at that altitude is harder than you could possibly imagine.
After about 10 minutes, Frank had not come back and the inside if the plane was getting colder, so Alan was sent to see what was wrong. By torchlight, he discovered that Frank had collapsed as his oxygen bottle had run out . Alan removed his gloves and with oxygen, revived Frank, before using the same bottle to breath from. He managed to close the door and he was looking for his gloves when he passed out. Five minutes later, the rear gunner has seen what had happened, and the aircraft was quickly taken down to 10,000 feet, a height at which they could breathe unaided.
Alan woke up with very cold hands, and it wasn’t until he was taken to a hospital in Chichester that the stare of his hands became clear. The hands were out into a pair of saline gloves which was the wrong thing to do. After 10 days, Professor Archie McIndoe placed the hands into buckets of ice. The Professor was a pioneering plastic surgeon who rebuilt the faces and bodies of the war torn men, so that they would not be avoided by family and friends. The members of this elite collection of people became known as “The Guinea Pig Club”. Sadly, Alan’s’ fingers had gone black with gangrene, and they were amputated along with one thumb. Three months later, on the 10th June 1944, he married his girlfriend Ella.
After more surgery on his hands, he managed to learnt o use a knife and fork, dress himself – even putting a tie on. There was no stopping him. He even managed to go back to flying MK III Halifaxes and was promoted to Flight Sergeant.
Alan was surprised when I told him about Kirkham prison. He had been there when it was still an RAF base, and had set up the tables for the demob. He had out his name down, and was demobbed – not invalided out at Kirkham.
Life as a Civvy found him working at Cooke and Ferguson in Audenshaw as a precision jig borer!
War stories as personal as this are living history and should be treasured.
Life was so very different in these days, the raids had to be delayed form tie to time so that production of the aircraft could catch up, as so many were lost in the raids. A case of “Sorry, we can’t fight just yet – we’ve run out of planes””
The Guinea Pig club may fold soon due to the age of the Committee and it’s members, and Alan was very coy when he told me that he was due to meet Vera Lynn late this year, and he has made a bird house for her. Alan and Ella are still happily married and camping at leisure. Who ever would have guess that sitting in a campsite would enable me to meet a War Hero?
The most awkward time for these men were the tea parties that the Queen held for them. As you know, tea goes through you like a rabbit in a hole, and most of the poor chaps could not undo their trousers to empty the tea from themselves.
So, next time you feel like the world is against you, think hard and realise how lucky you are.
A Fisherman’s Wife Is Not a Happy One…
It’s that time of year
again. After an absence from his hobby of some six or seven months, that
familiar odour is back! It has to be said that the end products are delicious
and he enjoys the male bonding that is part and parcel of getting wet, tired
and lost.
I’ve never really been
interested in fishing, no matter how enthusiastic he is about it. I suppose the
only thing I can’t forget is his first catch. That was in 1991, when I was
about three months pregnant (at the very queasy stage!). We hadn’t been married
six months then I think that the caveman instincts were still there, with him
wanting to go out and kill our meals. He decided to try sea angling. Home he
came, waving a bin bag aloft. Oh, now I have to come to be very wary of that
sight!
I didn’t reply, as I was
busy being sick. His total catch had been one rather large and ugly catfish.
Worse still, it was very much alive and not amused. It was deposited onto the
kitchen floor, where it wriggled angrily.
After much heated
discussion, mainly from my part, it had to go. There was no way I was going to
go anywhere near it. Graeme clonked the poor thing on its head with a frying
pan (it wasn’t the poor fish’s day at all), bundled it back into the bin bag
and disposed of it.
That year the summer was
very hot and only when a strange odour came wafting from the garden shed did I
realise where my beloved had put the fish!
One year he joined the
Laarbruch Sea Angler’s Club and went fishing off the
- To small
- Inedible
- Too ugly,
- Or half-digested
I was all prepared to,
listen to his tales of woe and console him. So I had a nice, scented bath and
did the hair. At last, I heard the sound of him parking the van. Then he
appeared.
After a bristly peck on the
cheek, he proudly thrust into my hand half a bin bag of slimy cod that he
caught all by himself.
The bag thudded on to the
floor and then his first words were, “Hey, feel the weight of that! I’ve got to
go back to camp to take the van back, I won’t be long. Will you fillet the fish
for me darling?”
After peering into his
rucksack, only to find squashed mars bars and bits of left over sandwiches
complete with bite marks, I found myself prodding the bin bag with the handle
of a wooden spoon (just in case the contents of the bag moved). I then
proceeded to skin and fillet the fish. What fun (not).
I had briefly attempted
filleting fish in my youth at college in
By the time he got home I’d
frozen the meat, disposed of the corpses and was trying to pick off the fish
scales that had welded to my fingernails. Try as I could, no amount of
scrubbing could get rid of the smell of fish.
When he was in the mood for
a bit of bodily defrosting, I was in a foul mood and told him where to stick to
his squashed Mars Bars.
They say that fishermen do it in their wellies, no chance…