So, I blew NaBloPoMo.

Really, really blew it. Thursday was my downfall. Work was pretty quiet in the morning/early afternoon and then just before I was going to leave, shit hit the fan and my 7.30am-6pm day was extended by an extra 4 and a half hours. I make that a 15 hour day and, trust me, it really felt like a 15 hour day. Friday was spent clearing up leftover crap (although not literally crap, that's how it felt) and I raced out of the door at 5.30pm with a splitting headache, amidst cries of "aren't you coming for a beer?" I forewent the beer and was home before 7 when I took the dogs out and then curled up in a very dark room and went to sleep.

On Saturday, I drove to Walthamstow. For those who don't know London, it has a post(zip) code of E17. That means, that it is east London, and pretty far out east London. I live in The South West, so getting to Walthamstow meant taking the M25 (nightmare) to junction 29 and then all these stupid little A roads that take you through roundabout city. I don't know what it is about roundabouts that the Brits love so much. You have huge ones connecting motorways with something like"Welcome to Essex!" written in pansies; you have the medium sized ones connecting A or large B roads which are covered in sign posts telling you just how very, very sharp this turn is, and you have mini ones, which look like someone has spilled a blob of white paint in the middle of a crossing. As if people are going to drive AROUND this blob of white paint. Ay, Dios mio. Anyhow, I drove to Walthamstow to pick up the latest member of the family:


His name is Sunny (no, I did not name him). He is an 8 month old Labrador Retriever with the most incredible green eyes. This picture is rather deceptive. Sunny has been spoiled rotten, and is ROTUND. His name should be Dyson, because he doesn't just eat, he inhales food. On Saturday night I put all 3 dogs' food down at the same time and Sunny, sneaky monster, decided he was going to try and eat both HRH's and Sam's food, before his own. HRH growled at him and he backed away, but Sam is such a pussy that when the baby pushed him out of the way, (which is not difficult - we're talking at least 30 kilos of puppy here) Sam just let him do it. Sunny needs to be physically restrained from eating Sam's food, and on Saturday I think that Sunny must have left some slobber in the bowl, because Sam just was not interested after that. Instead, I wound up feeding him raw chicken wings. On Sunday morning, Sunny was following me around, wagging his tail. I didn't have a clue what he was after - he'd already been out for a walk that morning, where he strained so much doing a poop that I thought he was going to give himself a hernia. When I went over to pick the poop up, I found the reason for such straining - at some stage in the last 3 days, he had managed to eat part of a leash. In the crap was a leather strap about 2cm wide and almost 15cm long. This dog will snarf down anything. ANYTHING. Look, you left your book on the floor for a second while you picked up your cup of coffee - let me eat it for you. And that sweater on the sofa with the arm dangling down? Let me eat that for you too. But he is a lovely dog and with some (a lot) of training, he will be even more so.

To top it all off, my brother made dinner on Sunday evening. That is twice in one week. I think there's something very, very wrong with him. But I'm not complaining.

It's all a bit of a fluster

...here in the office. Prices are going waaay above target. Do we sell now, when the value is placed at $9 above our target sale price? Or do we leave it and hope that the market increases even more? And why is the value so (unexpectedly) high? Why are people willing to buy at those prices? What do they know about what's going to happen over the next quarter? Like I said. lots of questions, lots of uncertainty... meh.

On the way in to work, my mother dared me to have a shot of wheat grass from the smoothie kiosko at Victoria Station that we pass every day. Ay, Dios mio - I managed to get to work from the train station without barfing, but only just. I have never known anything so foul, and will definitely NEVER have that crap again.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, HRH is doing better every day. Her balance is still off, but she can stand, sit, walk and trot (she looks like a pony when she does this 'running' thing) and everyone is just so amazed at how well she's doing. Not long ago no-one believed she'd ever walk again. And now she's back, and more greedy than ever. Her love for cheese has grown stronger, and to make sure you know just how much she wants THAT BIT OF CHEESE, YES, THAT BIT THAT YOU HAVE IN YOUR HAND? I WANT IT, she drools in to your lap. Or makes a drool puddle on the floor. Whilst licking her lips. Nice. Thing is, she's just come on heat, and her back will definitely not take any kind of mounting action. So we have to figure out what to do with Sam. She won't be receptive for another couple of days, but he can't be around her (alone) when she is.

Monday I have my 'caudal epidural and facet joint injections'. Under general. Which scares the crap out of me.

And that's about it. A random post, I know - but I like the whole no direction thing today. It kind of matches my day perfectly.

Anon.

Where I send a wish to the sky up above that I can now start to gain a bit of normality... Please?

Things have gotten way out of hand. This whole slipped disc thing? Not once did the surgeon explain just what it would mean. How it would affect me daily. How it would make even the most mundane tasks seem as if I am climbing Everest or something. Walking Sam around the park takes almost 2 hours when it would normally take one. I have to give myself extra time when I have a bath because, hell, you try getting out of one of a bath tub with a prolapsed disc. And then the drugs. Oh, the drugs. If I didn't have to work, I'd be happy as Larry. Only on the odd occasion do they do nothing for the pain - the rest of the time I'm in a bit of a chemical-induced haze. I almost wish I'd told the surgeon to whip (what's left of) the disc out straight away. Anyhoo - it seems that I'm getting used to having to make all these changes - which I hope will not have to last for too long. I see the dude again on Thursday so hopefully he can just do the injections and I can get back to normal. Fingers crossed.

Friday evening was fantastic - after work we went out for a couple of drinks and watched the game for 3rd place in the Rugby World Cup. My boys in sky blue managed to trounce France once again, placing them 3rd in the world rankings with a final score of 34-10. The match was like a pressure cooker, and Honiss and his touch judges had their work cut out trying to keep a lid on the game as passion rose and tempers flared. Contepomi was incredible, sparking the whole team, and even the cave man wasn't able to douse the fire. The weekend was pretty dire for English sport. England lost the rugby, which was bound to happen, although I was rather surprised at how well they played. Unfortunately, the Springboks gave England no space whatsoever and Johnny had no room to try for any goal kicks. It was a shame, but the mistakes England made were amateurish which, to be honest, is not really what people expect from such a mature team. I put £5 on South Africa to win a couple of weeks ago when the odds were 5/2 - they were looking so strong, right from the start.

Things at work have been crazy busy, too. Although I was not able to go on my holiday because of my back, there's been so much to do, I have been running around like a hamster on speed. I have had to spend some time in Europe checking out tanks, sorting out VAT and other highly exciting stuff. Now, though, I really am back. I have no travel plans and things seem to be quieting down a bit on the Western Front, which means I should definitely have more blogging time. This weekend seems to have reflected the wind down nicely. On Saturday I visited a friend who's just recently had a baby. He's 8 weeks old now and weighs 12 lbs. This may not seem monstrous to people who know anything about babies, but when you look at the size of his parents, (all of 5 foot nothing) it makes you wonder just what part of their gene pool that little thing was pulled from. She is tiny - when I say 5 foot nothing I mean it - and yet she managed to push an 8lb baby out. All I can say is that she must have one stretchy cervix. So, baby Milton (do NOT ask) is a healthy, happy little boy. He has all 10 fingers and toes, is growing at a speed of knots, has these huge blue eyes and shock of dark hair (which seems to extend to his shoulders, the edge of his ears and his thighs - is this baby fluff? Or has she given birth to a chimpanzee?) and is simply beautiful. And makes me broody.

HRH has taken to walking most of the time now, instead of scooting along on her behind. She actually gets herself up, walks around and can even take herself outside to pee and poop (which, by the way, is SUCH GOOD NEWS). Her balance isn't so great, so when she gets over excited and tries to turn too quickly she ends up falling. We even took her out for a (very short) proper walk on Friday last week. She didn't poop for the whole of Saturday, so then we took her out to the park briefly where she promptly did 7. I have a feeling her colon must have been at breaking point - she lost about 3 lbs in as many minutes. Fortunately enough between us we had enough nappy sacks for the mess both dogs made. I think that's her way of saying that she wants to start going out again. We have to be very careful with her still, and she will be going back to the vet next week to have a check up, but things are definitely on the up. To those of you who donated, thank you so, very much.

By the way, has anyone seen this movie? Or this one? Are they any good?

What a long time!!

It's been almost 3 weeks since I last posted here. Three weeks tomorrow, in fact. Lots has happened in such a short space of time. Like being admitted to hospital to be sedated and put on a morphine drip because THE PAIN WAS MAKING ME DELUSIONAL. Fortunately, I have medical insurance, which means I only had to wait 2 days for an MRI scan, instead of the 4 months currently dictated by the extra long waiting list. I'm still trying to figure out how best to get a picture of the actual MRI up here, because my scribble doesn't do it any kind of justice:


That big black mess? That's what's left of my disc in the L5/S1 region. This piece of tissue has prolapsed, "obliterated the sciatic theca" (yes, the MRI report does, in fact, use the word OBLITERATED) and apparently now, parts of the disc are disintegrating, which (hopefully) should release some of the pressure. If not then it'll be epidurals and stuff, which I much prefer the sound of, as opposed to someone GOING ANYWHERE NEAR MY SPINE WITH A KNIFE. Because I'm not particularly wanting that. How this happened, I don't know. The surgeon described it as spontaneous, as I've had no history of back trouble and suffered no trauma. Weird. Anyhow - I'm now on severe amounts of opiates and diazepam, flying higher than a very high kite. Woop! It almost makes up for the fact that I was meant to be on holiday in Portugal this week.

HRH is home and doing fantastically! She is still unable to walk, by herself, but is able to stand for a couple of minutes unaided, she sits in the correct position, and when we take her outside with her special sling, she moves both legs trying to walk (although there's still no weight on her right leg).

It's the start of October, and I'm trying to organize a wonderful Christmas party for work. Everyone seems to be booked up for the dates that we're available, so I have my work cut out for me!

Anyhow, I'm back.

The last four days have been excruciating.

I have had the most awful pain in the back of my thigh, which moves up and down. Sitting down is intolerable, and going from sitting to standing has had me doubled over in pain. This morning it got too much, but my doctor's surgery can't see me after I finish work because they all need to go home and have their supper, and I can't justify taking time off work because there is so much to do, so little time, and with people on holiday and business trips, not enough people to do it all. In floods of tears, I dropped in at the NHS walk in centre on my way to work, where I was seen immediately, diagnosed with bad sciatica and prescribed these and these. Although the walk-in centre cannot refer me anywhere the doctor was fantastic and advised me to by-pass my GP and go straight to Accident & Emergency tomorrow, should the drugs not work. The drugs are working. Just now I was able to stand up, without bursting in to tears, for the first time in 4 days. Apparently, the likelihood is a herniated disc, pressing on the sciatic nerve. Which would mean that I have the same problem as my pooch, although not even remotely as bad. Anyhow, the drugs I've been given (which are apparently amongst those given to cancer patients) are most certainly doing the trick.

I spoke to the vet again yesterday. Apparently, HRH is now eating and drinking a little more by herself, and she seems to be displaying a little more sensation in her left leg. Although progress is small and slow, she is definitely showing some positive signs. I get to go and see her again this weekend. Yay!

So, I drove to Newmarket on Saturday

as the vet said it was OK to visit HRH. We went to the neurological 'ward', where she has the biggest cage, equipped with a heat lamp for colder nights and and a fan for when she's too warm. She lies atop a vast amount of blankets, a mattress and has pillows all around her. In a vein in her front right leg, wrapped in a bright red bandage, is her IV which is administering the sedative, saline and Ketamine, and she also has a catheter and a pee bag, as she still cannot go herself. She was very sedated when we got there, but as soon as we opened the door to her cage, and she realised who we were, her eyes brightened, her ears pricked up and she started crying, trying to drag herself closer to us. I climbed in to her cage to try and calm her, and sat with her for about an hour. The nurse asked if I would like to feed her, as she has been quite fussy, refusing to eat when they offer her food, so I was passed a bowl with some canned food and some cooked chicken and I fed her the chicken by hand and then she finished what was in her bowl. She has a huge shaved patch and wound with loads of stitches running about half the length of her back. By the time it heals, she'll probably look like a Rhodesian Ridgeback. We left at about 4, (visiting hours were only 2-4pm) and made the 2.5 hour journey home. It was terrible leaving her - but at least we know she's in the most ideal place. The staff are so kind and they are specialists in animal neurology so there really is nothing more that we can do.


On Sunday I drove to see my mum and brother to see my youngest brother at school, because it was his 18th birthday. We took him out for some lunch and left him with a huge cake and some beers for him to have with his friends on Sunday evening. I cannot believe that my little brother (who's actually nearly a head taller than me and built like a brick sh*t house from playing rugby) is already 18. He makes me feel so old.

HRH Fund

Yesterday, we received a very generous donation. Thank you!
As you can see, there is still a way to go. I have started a facebook group here, and would be grateful if you would show your support by joining and inviting your friends.

If you do want to donate, you can do so via Paypal at [gerbil at blueyonder dot co dot uk].

No news from the vet as yet, but will update as soon as I hear.



***UPDATE***

I have just heard from the vet. HRH has been brought round from her sedation a few times, and has had the breathing tubes removed. She has been sleeping on her own without the sedation, and even ate a little bit of chicken! (This is big news, seeing as she hadn't eaten anything solid since Monday night, and since Wednesday has only been on a drip). The vet has not been able to do a full neurological assessment due to the sedation, but from minor tests she has seen that there is most certainly a good level of sensation. This is great, because one of the worries of surgery was that it could make her a lot worse). I was told that I can go to visit her between 2-4pm tomorrow, but if she gets too excited or distressed then we will have to stay away until she's ready to come home. This positive news has made my day :)

I have no idea

how HRH managed to damage herself to such an extent. She's not hugely agile - in fact, she's clumsy enough that she tries not to compete agility-wise with other creatures because SHE KNOWS SHE WILL LOSE. Either that or CAUSE DAMAGE. But, somehow, she managed to herniate a disc. That's what the MRI showed at 8pm last night. But, you think she was happy causing HERSELF MAJOR AGGRAVATION and tormenting her humans? Noooo. As well on this she had a MASSIVE BLEED. Like, hello, IS COMPROMISING YOUR SPINAL CHORD NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU? They completed the MRI at about 9pm last night, and decided to take her straight in to surgery for 5 hours. She was out at about 2.30am. The vet explained how the bleed was a lot worse than anyone could have imagined, and that she had been forced to remove a lot more of the bone in HRH's spine than anticipated. However, the surgery was a success, and now she will be kept under heavy sedation for about 3 days so she can't move and cause more trouble. There is no telling right now if she'll be able to walk again, but things are looking slightly brighter. She won't be home for about 2 weeks.

Our insurance covers up to £5000 of treatment, and last night the bill was very close to £7000. I somehow have to find over £2000, and I don't think my bank manager is going to understand. If anyone knows of any wealthy animal lovers, please point them in this direction! Also, if you're on facebook, please take a minute to join my group.

Bad, bad day

So, I managed to get home at a relatively decent time last night, what with the tube strikes. Only to find that HRH was at the front door waiting for someone to get home, paralysed from the hips downwards. Totally unable to move. I managed to get her to the vet at 10pm, putting a towel under her back legs and lifting them so she could walk with her front legs. She was given a huge Cortisone cocktail and an anti inflammatory, and this morning was no better. We went back to the vet, who managed to get us an emergency appointment at the Animal Health Trust (a fantastic place specialising in neurological disorders/problems in animals, with amazing MRI and hi-tech CT scanners, better than in most human hospitals) for 11.30. The drive was over 2 hours and we made it there only 25 minutes late after being stuck in Traffic on the M25. We have no diagnosis yet - the vet said it could be a ruptured/broken disc causing herniation and pressure on the spinal chord, a Fibrocartilaginous Embolism or a tumour also causing pressure, or that she had a stroke of some sort in her spine (dogs can have them in their spine as well as the brain). Anyhow, her MRI was scheduled for about 4.30pm (about an hour ago) and I am waiting for a call from the vet. I'm just praying it's something that surgery will fix. She won't be home for a while, that's for sure.

It's been a while

Well, it's been a really long while. Things at work have been crazy, and I was in Amsterdam for meetings a few days last week. Before I went away, I acquired a new dog.


His name is Sam, he's 9 years old and his owners suddenly decided they didn't want him. I drove a 6 hour round trip to pick him up, praying all the way home that he wasn't going to either poop or puke in the back of the car. But he was as good as gold. As was HRH who managed to behave herself the whole way from London to Coventry and back again.

I have a lunch date with La Cubana Gringa on Thursday, so I have to figure out where the best place to go is going to be.

In other news, employees of Metronet, who make the London Underground (***click on this link for how Londoners feel from 6pm last night til 6pm Friday, but if you're at work turn the sound down a bit**) actually, you know, WORK have decided to strike. They started to wind down services at about 2pm, and all tube travel ground to a BIG, FAT, SCREAMING HALT. There are no tubes. Everyone then has to travel across the city by bus. But, there aren't enough buses for all the London commuters, so you could easily end up waiting 40 DAMN MINUTES for buses that don't stop because they are so full. So, people are LATE FOR WORK and UNABLE TO GET HOME BEFORE 9PM. Thank heavens there's a dog door otherwise I would have had to clean up dog pee as well.

It's already Thursday?

This week has zipped by. Literally. I think I've managed to lose 2 days between now and Monday. One more day, and another week has gone. Pretty soon it'll be Christmas. Which doesn't surprise me seeing as it's ABSOLUTELY FREEZING in London this morning. It seems that one of my prize winners has, in fact, received his prize. The other two should, hopefully, arrive very soon, so keep your eyes peeled.

I haven't yet managed to hunt down the kids who decided it was easier to steal from someone else than actually go out and work, but I'm working on it. And when I find them they'll be sorry they mussed my hair up, that's for sure. Also, I'm having to go out (on a date!) on Friday and I'm not liking my blackened, strapped up fingers. However, I'm hoping that my beautiful new shoes will detract from my mangled digits. On another note, even with a damaged pinky, I managed to saw a hole in the back door to fit one of these babies for Her Royal Highness.

So, La Cubana Gringa and I have been in not-so-secret-squirrel talks regarding a blogmeet while she is over here at the start of September. I did offer to meet her at a special type of shop, like here, or maybe even here. Unfortunately, most of the other readers of this blog are also THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY, so I don't think it would be particularly easy for them to pop across the pond for the day. It's (almost) a shame the world's so big. However, if any of y'all just happen to be passing through London in a few weeks, shout me.

Pee pee time?

So, I wasn't going to write about this but I am still so pissed that I feel it is better to vent in to the abyss that is the blogosphere than it is in real life. I will not be seen as a WHINER by real human beans.

It took me 40 minutes to get home last night. Not the longest amount of time by all means but, still, longer than the journey should take. And I'm tired (having been at work since 0730). And the train was HOT. And the guy sat next to me had a SERIOUS BODY ODOUR PROBLEM. Like, muy apestado. I mean, he obviously feels that deodorant isn't a necessity. LISTEN DUDE, IT REALLY IS. And I'm sure that everyone in the carriage (and probably as far away as, I don't know, Illinois - and that's really far) would agree with me. I nearly went so far as to offer him the Givenchy in my handbag before I realised that he'd probably end up using the whole bottle AND WE'D STILL BE ABLE TO SMELL HIM.

And then I get home. I leave the back door open all day for HRH, so that she can go and mess in the garden when she needs to. Thing is, it rained a bit in the afternoon (she doesn't like the rain, it messes up her hair) - and it was obviously the EXACT SAME TIME that she needed a pee. She couldn't wait for the cloud to pass and go outside, so she went right there on the floor. What made me mad was the fact that my brother, who, by the way is NOT HUMAN, was so busy playing WWE Smackdown vs. RAW that he "didn't see" her squat, and "didn't hear" the sound track to Niagara Falls going on 2 METRES FROM WHERE HE WAS SITTING. And guess who had to clean it up?

Now THAT is why i am mad.

Technicolor yawns

Yeah, I know it's gross. But hey, shit happens. I woke up on Thursday morning at 4am with this sudden urge to throw up. I literally just made it to the loo on time. And then my brother sat with me while I cried, tried not to think about how Goddamn awful I felt and made sure that the bucket was within reaching distance. It was. Needless to say, I didn't make it in to work yesterday. I was ill enough that I pulled muscles I didn't know I had.

By late afternoon I was feeling much better. I really don't have an awful lot to say right now (I'm sure I will later) so, instead, you can look at some photos of Her Royal Highness.

Showing off her very short legs to full Munchkin potential


Now all she needs is goggles and a bomber jacket


"I'm getting married in the morning" - no, seriously, even a dish cloth cannot
hide the fact that she has HUGE ears


OK so not HRH but, hey, meet Michael Jackson

Walkies

Every morning I walk Her Royal Highness, also known as Queen Munchkin (she has got the shortest legs you've ever seen) before I do anything else.


Her Ladyship lies in the hallway upstairs, barely opening her eyes and pretending to be asleep (she's got the whole IF I ONLY OPEN MY EYES A TINY SMIDGEN THERE'S NO WAY YOU WILL THINK I'M AWAKE AND I CAN STAY HERE WHERE IT'S WARM AND DRY thing going on) while I pull on my joggers and root around for some suitable footwear. She doesn't play dead well, though. As soon as you bend down and give her a rub behind the ears her tail thumps on the ground hard enough to cause another tsunami off of Sri Lanka. I head downstairs, and every single morning she lies there. I mean, she's just told me that she's awake with the thumpings of the tails but she still decides to lie there and pretend. Like a kid who cries for five more minutes once mama has switched on the light and told them to get up. As soon as I get downstairs and pick up her balls and scented nappy sacks (because MAN her crap stinks) and rattle the keys I can hear her literally jump up and bound down the hallway and the stairs before launching herself at me, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth like a crazy person, this insane LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! OPEN THAT DARN DOOR NOW! WHAT IF THERE'S SOMETHING OUT THERE FOR ME TO CHASE AND I'M SHUT UP IN HERE? look on her face. As soon as I open the door and she falls through and I follow. We play the same game every morning; once I've shut the door, I feign searching around the house for something that isn't there, avoiding all eye contact with with her, while she follows me, head cocked in a confused manner because OH SWEET JESUS ON A TWO-WHEELED VEHICLE, WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR NOW? WE NEED TO GO FOR A WALK, LIKE, PRONTO LADY! Off we trundle, down the road to the park. She hates walking on a leash so we never use it. Instead she walks to heel, looking up at you every couple of steps just to check that you're still there.

Now, every day on the way to the park I see Mr Fox. He's a scrappy looking thing with an eye missing, and he's definitely a male because he has got the biggest testicles imaginable. I have seen ponies that he would outshine. HRH is usually too busy dodging puddles or sniffing where other dogs have peed to see Fox. Today, however, she spied him sitting on the sidewalk, looking directly at us. And she ran. She's not pretty when she runs, that's for sure. Her paws are too big and her legs are too short, and those ears that pick up a hundred channels from 35 countries? They seem to put her off balance too. This thing doesn't run, she lollops. Not at all feminine. She looks more like a baby elephant than a dog. So, there's my clumsy hound, chasing after this poor fox with one eye and half a tail, front and back hackles up as she tries to keep up because DARN THIS RED THING CAN MOVE! With her imaginary blinkers on, she refuses to listen to me calling her because this fox is obviously sooo important to her. Until it crosses the road and darts under a parked car, where HRH abruptly stops at the kerb. She may have become deaf for a few minutes, but she damn well knows not to go on the road unless i say she can.

I have found...

...a boyfriend for my bitch. His name is Ben. Her name is Tula. Their names do not go together as well as I had hoped, but after months of searching for the right boy, I can't really complain about what he is called. Anyhow, tonight will be their first date. Maybe tomorrow they will make babies.

I am so excited!