We seem to be experiencing a baby boom of sorts round my way just now! They must have put something in the water back in December and January, either that or we celebrate a bit too much over Christmas and New Year in this wee village of mine!
In the last month there have been 3 new arrivals and there are still 2 to come over the next few months. All the new arrivals are within a stones throw of my front door. My friend being the latest to add to the villages population with the arrival of her baby girl yesterday afternoon.
So I'll avoid the water for now till the coast is clear and say welcome to the world to the Bronwyen, Sam and Daisy!
Jenny xx
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Happy Birthday Yvon, Yvon...
In case I forget tomorrow...Happy Birthday Yvon.
I bet yer heids thumpin' this mornin'...better dig that paracetamol out that we gave you last night!
Jenny xx
I bet yer heids thumpin' this mornin'...better dig that paracetamol out that we gave you last night!
Jenny xx
Last Night....
I was at a wee bash to help my mate Yvonne celebrate her 18th.
It was held at the establishment where I used to pull pints of a weekend. It was my first outing there since my sacking back in July but I was not alone in this as Ross was also venturing back for the first time and in addition I was accompanied by my friend Eileen who resigned from her bar job there back in January partly due to the way she was treated.
I hadn't seen many of the members at my previous place of work for a while. Over the 4 years or so I was there I met some nice folks and it was nice to see many of them again last night. What struck me as odd was the number of them who had been told from certain sources that I had resigned! Some, lets call them higher up members, only found out I'd been sacked this week when Ross met a similar fate! It beggars belief. Why say I resigned when not only was there a witness to the fact I was sacked but I have been sent a letter to say that was the case?
Many of the members wished me well in my bid to get to the truth and fight for my rights. Many of them expressed the fact that I was a good barmaid and was missed. It was also humourous to note the number of people who said the words "This would never have happened if your Dad was alive, he'd have smacked someone by now!". There may be a slight element of truth in that!
So thanks to everyone who made a wee comment of support last night and I wasn't alone in hearing some nice words, Ross and Eileen both received a warm welcome from the members and similar comments. Just 9 months ago all three of us would have been working together behind the bar last night instead of being on the customer side....funny how things change eh?
Jenny xx
It was held at the establishment where I used to pull pints of a weekend. It was my first outing there since my sacking back in July but I was not alone in this as Ross was also venturing back for the first time and in addition I was accompanied by my friend Eileen who resigned from her bar job there back in January partly due to the way she was treated.
I hadn't seen many of the members at my previous place of work for a while. Over the 4 years or so I was there I met some nice folks and it was nice to see many of them again last night. What struck me as odd was the number of them who had been told from certain sources that I had resigned! Some, lets call them higher up members, only found out I'd been sacked this week when Ross met a similar fate! It beggars belief. Why say I resigned when not only was there a witness to the fact I was sacked but I have been sent a letter to say that was the case?
Many of the members wished me well in my bid to get to the truth and fight for my rights. Many of them expressed the fact that I was a good barmaid and was missed. It was also humourous to note the number of people who said the words "This would never have happened if your Dad was alive, he'd have smacked someone by now!". There may be a slight element of truth in that!
So thanks to everyone who made a wee comment of support last night and I wasn't alone in hearing some nice words, Ross and Eileen both received a warm welcome from the members and similar comments. Just 9 months ago all three of us would have been working together behind the bar last night instead of being on the customer side....funny how things change eh?
Jenny xx
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Bizarre Crush Alert....
I've developed a new crush. One of those bizarre one's that you'd rather not have.
It's kind of like the time I found myself having a wee thing for Alex McLeish. Yes I know that's utterly, unforgivably wrong and it was never more than a comment of "there's something kind of nice about him" but it's disturbing all the same. I stand by my crush on Rowan Alexander the Gretna manager though...he's loverrrly.
But anyway back to bizarre crush of the moment. Having been spending a night watching CSI (original Vegas version not Miami) I have found myself developing a wee liking for William Petersen aka Gil Grissom.
I feel I may need a quiet word with myself. I mean this is a man who appears on screen along sides Gary Dourdan (Warick Brown) and the very hot George Eads (Nick Stokes) for goodness sakes!
While I'm at it though I have to say that Marg Helgenberger who plays Catherine Willows has the most fantastic arse. Definitely a case of ass envy from me!
Jenny xx
It's kind of like the time I found myself having a wee thing for Alex McLeish. Yes I know that's utterly, unforgivably wrong and it was never more than a comment of "there's something kind of nice about him" but it's disturbing all the same. I stand by my crush on Rowan Alexander the Gretna manager though...he's loverrrly.
But anyway back to bizarre crush of the moment. Having been spending a night watching CSI (original Vegas version not Miami) I have found myself developing a wee liking for William Petersen aka Gil Grissom.
I feel I may need a quiet word with myself. I mean this is a man who appears on screen along sides Gary Dourdan (Warick Brown) and the very hot George Eads (Nick Stokes) for goodness sakes!
While I'm at it though I have to say that Marg Helgenberger who plays Catherine Willows has the most fantastic arse. Definitely a case of ass envy from me!
Jenny xx
Ouch...
Top Gear's Richard Hammond is critically ill after crashing a drag car travelling at 300mph.
It's been reported he's suffered severe head injuries.
I love Top Gear and I like Richard Hammond. He's just so likeable on screen. I hope he manages to pull through this one and come out the other side.
Jenny xx
It's been reported he's suffered severe head injuries.
I love Top Gear and I like Richard Hammond. He's just so likeable on screen. I hope he manages to pull through this one and come out the other side.
Jenny xx
Kinky Capital....
Edinburgh has a reputation as a cultural centre. A place full to bursting with great architecture, history and the best arts festival on the planet. The good citizens of Edinburgh are often looked upon as snobbish in comparision to their Glasgweigan counterparts on te west coast.
However, it seems Edinburgh has another claim to fame. A kinky secret if you like. A bedroom secret. For it seems us Edinburgh girls have a passion for all things naughty!
Ann Summers have just announced that their Edinburgh branch has the highest sales in the UK! In fact, sales are so good they have decided to expand their business here in the capital. The biggest sellers are currently saucy lingerie sets followed closely by vibrators! Edinburgh girls obviously adding DIY to their skills!
It's got to be good news for all involved though hasn't it? I mean Ann Summers must be rubbing their hands at the profits they're making while the menfolk's of Edinburgh must be rubbing their...I mean getting excited at the thought of their good ladies filling their drawers with sexy undies. As for the companies that make batteries....shares must be going through the roof!
Jenny xx
However, it seems Edinburgh has another claim to fame. A kinky secret if you like. A bedroom secret. For it seems us Edinburgh girls have a passion for all things naughty!
Ann Summers have just announced that their Edinburgh branch has the highest sales in the UK! In fact, sales are so good they have decided to expand their business here in the capital. The biggest sellers are currently saucy lingerie sets followed closely by vibrators! Edinburgh girls obviously adding DIY to their skills!
It's got to be good news for all involved though hasn't it? I mean Ann Summers must be rubbing their hands at the profits they're making while the menfolk's of Edinburgh must be rubbing their...I mean getting excited at the thought of their good ladies filling their drawers with sexy undies. As for the companies that make batteries....shares must be going through the roof!
Jenny xx
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
My Mate Ross...
Big up to my mate Ross.
Ross, as many of you who read this will know, has one of the best blogs around. A blog with a good number of regular readers who come back time and time again to read the rantings and musings from a man who has the ability to look at life from perspectives other than the norm. A man unafraid to air his views. A man with his own unique take on things. A man whose sense of humour hits a bit of all his readers. A man with a passionate love for the written word. A man who uses words to convey feelings and thoughts he might otherise not say if left only with the option of speech.
Ross is one of life's good guys. A lover, not a fighter. A man baffled, intrigued yet understanding of the female world. A man who takes people at face value. A man who openly shows his love for his family and friends. A man who makes a damn good friend. The sort of man who'd drop things to help you out. He's much loved by those of us who call him a friend. He comes from a good family who adore him. He's popular, dependable and damn likeable. I don't know anyone who doesn't like Ross. I've yet to hear anyone say a bad word against him...at least anyone whose opinions count.
He's also a damn fine barman. The punters love him from the young teens to the old ladies who are taken with his smile and they way he calls them darling or pet.
So the fact that a certain establishment which shall remain nameless has taken the decision to sack him for expressing himself through words and for being himself is, in my humble opinion, disgusting.
They have just lost a big asset and a few other things. Ross meanwhile has lost nothing that matters. He still has respect, support, love...he may have lost his income but he's retained his dignity.
Jenny xx
Ross, as many of you who read this will know, has one of the best blogs around. A blog with a good number of regular readers who come back time and time again to read the rantings and musings from a man who has the ability to look at life from perspectives other than the norm. A man unafraid to air his views. A man with his own unique take on things. A man whose sense of humour hits a bit of all his readers. A man with a passionate love for the written word. A man who uses words to convey feelings and thoughts he might otherise not say if left only with the option of speech.
Ross is one of life's good guys. A lover, not a fighter. A man baffled, intrigued yet understanding of the female world. A man who takes people at face value. A man who openly shows his love for his family and friends. A man who makes a damn good friend. The sort of man who'd drop things to help you out. He's much loved by those of us who call him a friend. He comes from a good family who adore him. He's popular, dependable and damn likeable. I don't know anyone who doesn't like Ross. I've yet to hear anyone say a bad word against him...at least anyone whose opinions count.
He's also a damn fine barman. The punters love him from the young teens to the old ladies who are taken with his smile and they way he calls them darling or pet.
So the fact that a certain establishment which shall remain nameless has taken the decision to sack him for expressing himself through words and for being himself is, in my humble opinion, disgusting.
They have just lost a big asset and a few other things. Ross meanwhile has lost nothing that matters. He still has respect, support, love...he may have lost his income but he's retained his dignity.
Jenny xx
In Case You're Wondering....
I didn't name my bank for a reason in that last post.
That reason is simple...freedom of speech is outlawed in this country! Us bloggers realise now that anything we write can be left open to misinterpretation by anyone and used as ammunition to stick the knife in. Some people will always try to twist your words into something derogatory to suit themselves.
Jenny xx
That reason is simple...freedom of speech is outlawed in this country! Us bloggers realise now that anything we write can be left open to misinterpretation by anyone and used as ammunition to stick the knife in. Some people will always try to twist your words into something derogatory to suit themselves.
Jenny xx
******** Bank, Home To Fuckwits...
I've obtained the number of my banks complaints department. You see they've pissed me off and I'm not happy so I'm now about to escalate the matter.
I've tried speaking to the branch manager which got me nowhere fast. I've tried being patient waiting on my calls being returned but I'm ageing rapidly waiting on phone calls that never come.
However, I have just dialled the number for the complaints team only to be met with the message "Welcome to the ******** bank complaints team, this office is open from 9am until 5pm, Monday to Friday, please ring back during these hours". I wouldn't mind but it's 9.35am on Wednesday morning. Last time I looked that was somewhere between 9am and 5pm, Monday to Friday. Mind you it's an 0141 number which means I'm phoning Weegieland and we all know they are on a different time zone to us...mid 1980's I think. I shouldn't slag the Weegie's
really given I carry Weegie blood myself in my veins.
I get the deep impression I am dealing with fuckwits (fuckwit is my new word for now, childish yet with the ability to suitably offend) here. These are the people I trust with my money for god's sake. I feel my anger building slowly.
I'm away to press redial until it reaches 9am in Glasgow, when it does some fuckwit is getting it in the neck.
Jenny xx
I've tried speaking to the branch manager which got me nowhere fast. I've tried being patient waiting on my calls being returned but I'm ageing rapidly waiting on phone calls that never come.
However, I have just dialled the number for the complaints team only to be met with the message "Welcome to the ******** bank complaints team, this office is open from 9am until 5pm, Monday to Friday, please ring back during these hours". I wouldn't mind but it's 9.35am on Wednesday morning. Last time I looked that was somewhere between 9am and 5pm, Monday to Friday. Mind you it's an 0141 number which means I'm phoning Weegieland and we all know they are on a different time zone to us...mid 1980's I think. I shouldn't slag the Weegie's
really given I carry Weegie blood myself in my veins.
I get the deep impression I am dealing with fuckwits (fuckwit is my new word for now, childish yet with the ability to suitably offend) here. These are the people I trust with my money for god's sake. I feel my anger building slowly.
I'm away to press redial until it reaches 9am in Glasgow, when it does some fuckwit is getting it in the neck.
Jenny xx
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Some People...
I never ceased to be amazed by those people who are so fucking far up their own arse that all that they no longer see anything from anyone elses viewpoint. Whatever the scenario these people can't see past the end of their own noses.
They hide behind their uniforms, positions and standing. They are the sort of people who spew out what they consider witty remarks in order to prove how much cleverer they are than you. They are the sort of people who make up rules and regulations designed to show you they have more power than you. They are the sort of people who walk with an air of arrogance, carrying folders and papers so you can see how important they are. They are the sort of people who make big decisions in a bid to command respect.
In reality their witty remarks make them look like primary school age children. Their rules and regulations are no more enforceable than banning the sale of Irn-Bru in Scotland. Their arrogant walk only causes smirks of laughter from the people they pass. Their big decisions only cause people to shake their heads in disbelief.
This type of person is the type who will have friends who nod at their decisions, who agree with the rules and regulations, who laugh at the witty comments but who all the while are laughing loudly behind the persons back, watching silently while they make fools of themselves. For you see people like this love to play to a crowd, they love to show off and dazzle with their power and knowledge and they love to see their friends lap it up, never realising their name is not mentioned in a sentence without the inclusion of word dickhead somewhere else in said sentence.
We all know people like this. We have come across a person who has a jumped up belief in their own self importance and an over inflated sense of the power they have. Little Hitler's my old Gran used to call folk like that. She also used to say that folk like that always get found out one day and when they do "they come down like snow off a dyke".
Roll on one day in the case of the Mini-Hitler I know.
Jenny xx
They hide behind their uniforms, positions and standing. They are the sort of people who spew out what they consider witty remarks in order to prove how much cleverer they are than you. They are the sort of people who make up rules and regulations designed to show you they have more power than you. They are the sort of people who walk with an air of arrogance, carrying folders and papers so you can see how important they are. They are the sort of people who make big decisions in a bid to command respect.
In reality their witty remarks make them look like primary school age children. Their rules and regulations are no more enforceable than banning the sale of Irn-Bru in Scotland. Their arrogant walk only causes smirks of laughter from the people they pass. Their big decisions only cause people to shake their heads in disbelief.
This type of person is the type who will have friends who nod at their decisions, who agree with the rules and regulations, who laugh at the witty comments but who all the while are laughing loudly behind the persons back, watching silently while they make fools of themselves. For you see people like this love to play to a crowd, they love to show off and dazzle with their power and knowledge and they love to see their friends lap it up, never realising their name is not mentioned in a sentence without the inclusion of word dickhead somewhere else in said sentence.
We all know people like this. We have come across a person who has a jumped up belief in their own self importance and an over inflated sense of the power they have. Little Hitler's my old Gran used to call folk like that. She also used to say that folk like that always get found out one day and when they do "they come down like snow off a dyke".
Roll on one day in the case of the Mini-Hitler I know.
Jenny xx
Monday, September 18, 2006
Banishing The Boredom...
So since August 28th I have been literally housebound. That's 22 days of being indoors, with the small exception of a trip to my sisters last Sunday and my trip to Murrayfield on Thursday night.
There's only so much a girl can do before she starts going stir crazy in her own house. I've watched films, documentaries, read books, spring cleaned the house (yeah I know it ain't spring!) and even resorted to filling the Sky + with any old crap just to give me something to watch which isn't The Jeremy Kyle Show during the day!
Last night then it was decided enough was enough and after lounging round the house all day reading the sunday papers, while being treated to Better Half watching Liverpool v Chelsea, Rangers v Hibs & Man Utd v Arsenal...(I was asleep by then, 6 hours of football can do that to me!) we decided to head out for dinner.
Normally this would involve nothing more than a trip to Ratho to the local Pub/Restaurant a mere mile or two away but given my imprisonment of late I was for heading out the comfort zone so it was washed, changed and off to the Hard Rock in George Street.
The order was what it always was, we're highly predictable whenever we head to a Hard Rock whether it's in Edinburgh, New York, Minneapolis or Orlando...same order everytime! So we gorged ourselves on Nacho's, Chicken Fajita's and Strawberry Daiquiri's while the kids had the usual Cheesy Mac & Fries (Jake) and Cheese Toastie & Fries (Chloe).
I was just chuffed to be out but filling my face with good grub while sipping my drink through a straw watching Billy Idol on the plasma made it all the more good!
Jenny xx
There's only so much a girl can do before she starts going stir crazy in her own house. I've watched films, documentaries, read books, spring cleaned the house (yeah I know it ain't spring!) and even resorted to filling the Sky + with any old crap just to give me something to watch which isn't The Jeremy Kyle Show during the day!
Last night then it was decided enough was enough and after lounging round the house all day reading the sunday papers, while being treated to Better Half watching Liverpool v Chelsea, Rangers v Hibs & Man Utd v Arsenal...(I was asleep by then, 6 hours of football can do that to me!) we decided to head out for dinner.
Normally this would involve nothing more than a trip to Ratho to the local Pub/Restaurant a mere mile or two away but given my imprisonment of late I was for heading out the comfort zone so it was washed, changed and off to the Hard Rock in George Street.
The order was what it always was, we're highly predictable whenever we head to a Hard Rock whether it's in Edinburgh, New York, Minneapolis or Orlando...same order everytime! So we gorged ourselves on Nacho's, Chicken Fajita's and Strawberry Daiquiri's while the kids had the usual Cheesy Mac & Fries (Jake) and Cheese Toastie & Fries (Chloe).
I was just chuffed to be out but filling my face with good grub while sipping my drink through a straw watching Billy Idol on the plasma made it all the more good!
Jenny xx
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Thursday Night...
Was the first big outing for my bum.
I'm still getting daily packing and dressing done but I am healing nicely apparently.
So I decided to test my bum good and proper on Thursday by heading of to Murrayfield to watch Hearts against Sparta Prague.
My bum came through sitting for 90 minutes fairly well. No great pain... unlike the rest of me which was in deep pain at the end of the 90 minutes as my team got beat 2-0.They were piss poor.
Valdas, your coat is on a shoogly peg me thinks.
Jenny xx
I'm still getting daily packing and dressing done but I am healing nicely apparently.
So I decided to test my bum good and proper on Thursday by heading of to Murrayfield to watch Hearts against Sparta Prague.
My bum came through sitting for 90 minutes fairly well. No great pain... unlike the rest of me which was in deep pain at the end of the 90 minutes as my team got beat 2-0.They were piss poor.
Valdas, your coat is on a shoogly peg me thinks.
Jenny xx
Dear God..It Seems I'm Back...
Yep, I'm back.
I have been offline since exactly 2.12am on Monday 4th September. No internet access. No
e-mail. No Jambo's Kickback. No Blog.
The reason for this was that in my infinite wisdom I decided to switch my ISP from Orange (the artist formerly known as Wanadoo) to British Telecom (now referred to as Indian Telecom).
For anyone thinking of doing likewise I have the following advice. Don't. It's been a complete and utter fucking nightmare from start to finish. It was sold to me as a quick 15 minute change over. Each minute lasting about 20 hours in reality.
What pisses me off most is that I have spent 5 hours on the phone to their technical help dept trying to explain my problem to people who can barely speak english let alone understand it. Let me explain, you see BT's technical Help Desk is actually in India. English is not the mother tongue and it's plainly obvious. More fucking irritating though is finally getting to speak to someone based in the UK and being told they can't understand my accent! "you've got a right strong accent, oh your from Scotland! It's really hard to understand what you're saying" I was told and this from a man in Sunderland a place where they can only understand each other their accents are so strong.
Anyways Better Half managed to find out what was goosed and at 12.35pm today my internet connection finally came alive again!!
Fingers crossed it stays that way.
Jenny xx
I have been offline since exactly 2.12am on Monday 4th September. No internet access. No
e-mail. No Jambo's Kickback. No Blog.
The reason for this was that in my infinite wisdom I decided to switch my ISP from Orange (the artist formerly known as Wanadoo) to British Telecom (now referred to as Indian Telecom).
For anyone thinking of doing likewise I have the following advice. Don't. It's been a complete and utter fucking nightmare from start to finish. It was sold to me as a quick 15 minute change over. Each minute lasting about 20 hours in reality.
What pisses me off most is that I have spent 5 hours on the phone to their technical help dept trying to explain my problem to people who can barely speak english let alone understand it. Let me explain, you see BT's technical Help Desk is actually in India. English is not the mother tongue and it's plainly obvious. More fucking irritating though is finally getting to speak to someone based in the UK and being told they can't understand my accent! "you've got a right strong accent, oh your from Scotland! It's really hard to understand what you're saying" I was told and this from a man in Sunderland a place where they can only understand each other their accents are so strong.
Anyways Better Half managed to find out what was goosed and at 12.35pm today my internet connection finally came alive again!!
Fingers crossed it stays that way.
Jenny xx
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Ghostly Sightings...
Do you believe in the spirit world? I always have. I believe in guardian angels. I believe spirits can come back. I've never had anything concrete with which to back this up other than a feeling someone was watching over me. I even had an inkling who that someone was when I was younger and the fact I've smelt the scent of relatives who've passed away around me from time to time. Of course I've been to a few mediums in my time who've told me things that were spookily accurate about people I know in the spirit world but are words from strangers and a gut feeling of having a guardian angel enough to justify a belief in such things? Who knows.
I suppose the best way to cement a belief is to see something with your own eyes. Well I think I have and it's cemented my belief 100%.
On Wednesday after my op I was taken to recovery. Anyone who's had an op under general anaesthetic will know that the first thing you are aware of when you are coming round is a strangers voice saying your name and speaking to you. My op was no different. "Jenny, wake up sweetheart" were the first words I heard. A strangers voice. I was barely conscious but knew instantly I'd had an op and must be in recovery. "Jenny, come on honey wake up, we need to know you're ok" the voice said. In my head I was saying give me one more minute and I'll open my eyes. I was aware of feeling pain in my back and bum and that I had an oxygen mask on my face. "Come on honey wake up, Jenny can you hear me" the voice persisted. I was about to open my eyes when another voice joined in. "Come on pal, come on Jessica* wake up" it said. My eyes opened in a flash because the voice belonged to my Dad. Clear as day it was. It was his voice.
* Jessica was a nickname Dad used for me.
My eyes had focused on the foot of my bed. A nurse was standing there with a folder in her hand looking up at me. I was aware of another nurse to the side of me holding my hand but my gaze was fixed at the bottom of my bed...where my Dad was standing with one hand on the table at the bottom of the bed beside the nurse. Navy coat on, navy jumper with a diamond pattern, polo shirt under it and grey trousers. By now I was reaching out for him. Trying desperately to sit up. Struggling to get to where he was. He was exactly how he should have been right down to the lines on his face and the white in his hair. I could even smell his smell. The nurse nearest me was holding me back "No Jenny you can't sit up yet, are you in pain?, come on honey lie back down for me". I was crying now. Tears running down my face because I could see him and he was there. "You're alright pal, you're ok" he said. He looked worried but was smiling. I was trying to speak but nothing would come out. The nurse was holding me down but my arms were reaching out to the bottom of the bed. Then he was gone. Just like that. It lasted about a minute. I was crying really hard now. Couldn't speak, couldn't move. I was crying uncontrollably. Harder than I had when he died. I concentrated on the nurse and tried to calm down.
They were giving me drugs into the site of my drip. "That'll help with the pain" I heard the voice say. She told me they were keeping here for another half hour till my breathing improved. One of the nurses left but the other stayed with me, filling in paperwork and checking my monitor and chatting away. My tears died down and I lay there listening to the sounds around me. There was a man next to me who seemed to be in pain and was making loud moaning noises, across from me I saw a another man lying trying hard to keep his eyes open. Nurses were going to and fro from a nurses station in the middle of the room.
I glanced at the monitor beside me and remember seeing my pulse rate at 76, my heart rate at 90 and my resps at 94. The machine faintly beeping because the resps were too low. I watched the clock and 15 minutes had passed since Dad had vanished. I was willing him to come back and trying not to think of him all at the same time. The nurse came back to speak to me. "Are you ok now? You seem a bit calmer. You gave me a fright trying to get up like that" she said. I noticed for the first time that she was pregnant. I told her I was fine but still sore. She went to the foot of the bed and came back and inserted more painkiller in the venflon. "Where you trying to get to something or was it just a bid to escape?" she asked smiling at me. "I heard my Dad's voice and saw him at the end of the bed" I said. "Oh no honey your Dad wasn't here, we don't let relatives into recovery he'll be in the ward waiting for you though" she said. "He won't be in the ward" I said "He's been dead for over 2 years". Without warning the tears began again and again I was sobbing uncontrollably only this time the nurse was crying with me. Tears running down her cheek. The other nurse came back over and asked what was wrong. Kate, the nurse who had stayed with me told her the story. "I believe you did see your Dad, you're certainly not the first to say that to us, we hear that a lot" said the other nurse.
A few minutes later I was being wheeled in my bed back to the ward by a porter with my 2 nurses alongside me. On the way we were chatting about Kate's baby. In what was a bizarre twist she was discussing names saying she liked Adrian but her Husband liked Samuel! The other nurse said she preferred Samuel and she asked what I thought. "I like Samuel too, I'd go with that". I told her I'd toyed with calling my son Samuel but my Nephew had it as his middle name. She asked if that was because it was a family name. "Yeah it was my Dad's name!" I said. "Are you going to cry again and set me off again?" she laughed. I shook my head.
The bizarre thing about it was that when I first saw Dad it actually flashed through my head that I must be dead! I figured if he was here in the flesh like that then it must be because I was dead too! It also flashed into my head that it was bloody unfair that if this was heaven my arse still hurt!
Now I know this happened after surgery, that I'd had and anaesthetic but my head was clear enough to know instantly where I was and what had happened so I will remain convinced that Dad came to see me. I have now officially seen my first spirit.
And if I needed more proof I got it from Mum who told me she'd look skywards and told Dad to "get down to that hospital and make sure she's alright" before my op. She wasn't the least bit surprised when I told her I'd seen and heard him.
So I believe in the spirit world and guardian angels and now I have something with which to cement my belief.
Jenny xx
I suppose the best way to cement a belief is to see something with your own eyes. Well I think I have and it's cemented my belief 100%.
On Wednesday after my op I was taken to recovery. Anyone who's had an op under general anaesthetic will know that the first thing you are aware of when you are coming round is a strangers voice saying your name and speaking to you. My op was no different. "Jenny, wake up sweetheart" were the first words I heard. A strangers voice. I was barely conscious but knew instantly I'd had an op and must be in recovery. "Jenny, come on honey wake up, we need to know you're ok" the voice said. In my head I was saying give me one more minute and I'll open my eyes. I was aware of feeling pain in my back and bum and that I had an oxygen mask on my face. "Come on honey wake up, Jenny can you hear me" the voice persisted. I was about to open my eyes when another voice joined in. "Come on pal, come on Jessica* wake up" it said. My eyes opened in a flash because the voice belonged to my Dad. Clear as day it was. It was his voice.
* Jessica was a nickname Dad used for me.
My eyes had focused on the foot of my bed. A nurse was standing there with a folder in her hand looking up at me. I was aware of another nurse to the side of me holding my hand but my gaze was fixed at the bottom of my bed...where my Dad was standing with one hand on the table at the bottom of the bed beside the nurse. Navy coat on, navy jumper with a diamond pattern, polo shirt under it and grey trousers. By now I was reaching out for him. Trying desperately to sit up. Struggling to get to where he was. He was exactly how he should have been right down to the lines on his face and the white in his hair. I could even smell his smell. The nurse nearest me was holding me back "No Jenny you can't sit up yet, are you in pain?, come on honey lie back down for me". I was crying now. Tears running down my face because I could see him and he was there. "You're alright pal, you're ok" he said. He looked worried but was smiling. I was trying to speak but nothing would come out. The nurse was holding me down but my arms were reaching out to the bottom of the bed. Then he was gone. Just like that. It lasted about a minute. I was crying really hard now. Couldn't speak, couldn't move. I was crying uncontrollably. Harder than I had when he died. I concentrated on the nurse and tried to calm down.
They were giving me drugs into the site of my drip. "That'll help with the pain" I heard the voice say. She told me they were keeping here for another half hour till my breathing improved. One of the nurses left but the other stayed with me, filling in paperwork and checking my monitor and chatting away. My tears died down and I lay there listening to the sounds around me. There was a man next to me who seemed to be in pain and was making loud moaning noises, across from me I saw a another man lying trying hard to keep his eyes open. Nurses were going to and fro from a nurses station in the middle of the room.
I glanced at the monitor beside me and remember seeing my pulse rate at 76, my heart rate at 90 and my resps at 94. The machine faintly beeping because the resps were too low. I watched the clock and 15 minutes had passed since Dad had vanished. I was willing him to come back and trying not to think of him all at the same time. The nurse came back to speak to me. "Are you ok now? You seem a bit calmer. You gave me a fright trying to get up like that" she said. I noticed for the first time that she was pregnant. I told her I was fine but still sore. She went to the foot of the bed and came back and inserted more painkiller in the venflon. "Where you trying to get to something or was it just a bid to escape?" she asked smiling at me. "I heard my Dad's voice and saw him at the end of the bed" I said. "Oh no honey your Dad wasn't here, we don't let relatives into recovery he'll be in the ward waiting for you though" she said. "He won't be in the ward" I said "He's been dead for over 2 years". Without warning the tears began again and again I was sobbing uncontrollably only this time the nurse was crying with me. Tears running down her cheek. The other nurse came back over and asked what was wrong. Kate, the nurse who had stayed with me told her the story. "I believe you did see your Dad, you're certainly not the first to say that to us, we hear that a lot" said the other nurse.
A few minutes later I was being wheeled in my bed back to the ward by a porter with my 2 nurses alongside me. On the way we were chatting about Kate's baby. In what was a bizarre twist she was discussing names saying she liked Adrian but her Husband liked Samuel! The other nurse said she preferred Samuel and she asked what I thought. "I like Samuel too, I'd go with that". I told her I'd toyed with calling my son Samuel but my Nephew had it as his middle name. She asked if that was because it was a family name. "Yeah it was my Dad's name!" I said. "Are you going to cry again and set me off again?" she laughed. I shook my head.
The bizarre thing about it was that when I first saw Dad it actually flashed through my head that I must be dead! I figured if he was here in the flesh like that then it must be because I was dead too! It also flashed into my head that it was bloody unfair that if this was heaven my arse still hurt!
Now I know this happened after surgery, that I'd had and anaesthetic but my head was clear enough to know instantly where I was and what had happened so I will remain convinced that Dad came to see me. I have now officially seen my first spirit.
And if I needed more proof I got it from Mum who told me she'd look skywards and told Dad to "get down to that hospital and make sure she's alright" before my op. She wasn't the least bit surprised when I told her I'd seen and heard him.
So I believe in the spirit world and guardian angels and now I have something with which to cement my belief.
Jenny xx
Bloody Hell...
Scotland won 6-0 yesterday.
I may be wrong but I don't think I was alive last time that happened!
Jenny xx
I may be wrong but I don't think I was alive last time that happened!
Jenny xx
My Arse...
Is still the cause of much grief just now.
I've been told by the nurse (who's very nicely been in every day since my op to dress and pack my wound) that I might be looking at another 10 days of daily packing followed by another few weeks of packing done every three days. Champion. It fecking hurts getting the packing in.
Getting it out though is an altogether more pleasant job. I kneel in the bath (no bubbles but 2 big handfuls of salt!) and the packing sort of loosens till it's hanging out...it looks like I have a bloody tail! Better Half then removes it for me with tweezers, slaps a wad of gauze between my bum cheeks and we await the nurse to her bit! Better Half is turning out to be quite the Florence Nightingale!
The smell coming from my dressings though is, it has to be said, fecking putrid! My insides are obviously rotten.
On a more pleasant note...I'm down to painkillers three times a day instead of every 4 hours which is a triumph!
Jenny xx
I've been told by the nurse (who's very nicely been in every day since my op to dress and pack my wound) that I might be looking at another 10 days of daily packing followed by another few weeks of packing done every three days. Champion. It fecking hurts getting the packing in.
Getting it out though is an altogether more pleasant job. I kneel in the bath (no bubbles but 2 big handfuls of salt!) and the packing sort of loosens till it's hanging out...it looks like I have a bloody tail! Better Half then removes it for me with tweezers, slaps a wad of gauze between my bum cheeks and we await the nurse to her bit! Better Half is turning out to be quite the Florence Nightingale!
The smell coming from my dressings though is, it has to be said, fecking putrid! My insides are obviously rotten.
On a more pleasant note...I'm down to painkillers three times a day instead of every 4 hours which is a triumph!
Jenny xx
Friday, September 01, 2006
Medical Traumas....
Right sitting down ain't my favourite thing right now so this will be written in stages!
I told you all a few weeks ago that my bum was sore. Apparently it was a problem with my tail bone. So the pain came back last Thursday and got worse until Sunday when I was literally climbing the walls in pain.
I had contacted the emergency nurse on Saturday morning who told me she thought I had trapped my sciatic nerve. I'm no nurse but I knew it wasn't that as that kind of pain spreads and mine was in one spot. However she gave me a regime to follow and I did it. By Sunday though I was demented and the Doc paid a visit. Very useful it was too. She told me she didn't know what it was! How very helpful. So I stuggled through Sunday as best I could until Monday morning when I began throwing up the painkillers (I was taking a variety every 2 hours or so) and my own Doc came for a visit. She reckoned it was an abcess under my muscle. Antibiotics, rest, painkillers and we'll see how you are tomorrow...was her diagnosis.
Tuesday dawned. My 5th night without much sleep and the pain was by now worse than anything I'd ever felt. The Doc returned at 12pm and by 2pm I was lying in a hospital bed in Livingston getting a drip put on and being prepared for surgery!
Turns out it was indeed an abcess and it was apparently fairly huge. It was in the cavity between my tail bone and my right hand bum cheek muscle but was actually lying behind part of the muscle and so the only way to get rid of it was to cut me open and cut it out. I was banged on the list for emergency surgery later that day! However, it's not always straight forward is it? The anaethetist came to see me which was all fine, followed by the surgeon who would do the op. He had a look, declared he wasn't very good at things like this and wasn't confident about doing it properly (fucking hell!) and promptly advised me I'd need to move hospitals so it could be done that night be someone with more expertise in that area!
We were told it would be quicker to go by car...not easy as I couldn't sit down but the alternative was waiting for an ambulance transfer which could take hours. So it was off to the Western (with me lying in the back of the car on my side praying for no bumps in the road...not so comfy in a focus st with reccaro seats) for my op. I finally got it done on Wednesday morning after a night of Morphine injections and tranquilisers.
So I'm now home. My ass is aching. I have a 3 1/2 inch deep, 1 inch wide open wound where the absess was which is packed and dressed and which needs to be cleaned, repacked and dressed every day by the (very lovely) district nurse. I've had a bit of my muscle removed and some dead tissue taken away. I've got a 6 week recovery, another week and half of dressing and packing and lots of gunge and blood floating round. I still can't sit down properly and I can only sleep on my tummy. I can't drive or bath properly (kneeling in that bath!) and I can't shower because I can't get the wound wet. All good then.
Turns out I was a lucky girl as the absess was trying to escape by moving to my kidney, had it made it I was looking at peritonitis and possibly losing part of the kidney which would have been infected. I have also found out that I am carrying MRSA which is the cause of the infection. So that's antibiotics every day for 6 months! Hurrah. This is also what caused my recurring colds over the last few months and my general not- feeling - well - ness (not the menopause as some thought!).
So there you have it.
Jenny xx
I told you all a few weeks ago that my bum was sore. Apparently it was a problem with my tail bone. So the pain came back last Thursday and got worse until Sunday when I was literally climbing the walls in pain.
I had contacted the emergency nurse on Saturday morning who told me she thought I had trapped my sciatic nerve. I'm no nurse but I knew it wasn't that as that kind of pain spreads and mine was in one spot. However she gave me a regime to follow and I did it. By Sunday though I was demented and the Doc paid a visit. Very useful it was too. She told me she didn't know what it was! How very helpful. So I stuggled through Sunday as best I could until Monday morning when I began throwing up the painkillers (I was taking a variety every 2 hours or so) and my own Doc came for a visit. She reckoned it was an abcess under my muscle. Antibiotics, rest, painkillers and we'll see how you are tomorrow...was her diagnosis.
Tuesday dawned. My 5th night without much sleep and the pain was by now worse than anything I'd ever felt. The Doc returned at 12pm and by 2pm I was lying in a hospital bed in Livingston getting a drip put on and being prepared for surgery!
Turns out it was indeed an abcess and it was apparently fairly huge. It was in the cavity between my tail bone and my right hand bum cheek muscle but was actually lying behind part of the muscle and so the only way to get rid of it was to cut me open and cut it out. I was banged on the list for emergency surgery later that day! However, it's not always straight forward is it? The anaethetist came to see me which was all fine, followed by the surgeon who would do the op. He had a look, declared he wasn't very good at things like this and wasn't confident about doing it properly (fucking hell!) and promptly advised me I'd need to move hospitals so it could be done that night be someone with more expertise in that area!
We were told it would be quicker to go by car...not easy as I couldn't sit down but the alternative was waiting for an ambulance transfer which could take hours. So it was off to the Western (with me lying in the back of the car on my side praying for no bumps in the road...not so comfy in a focus st with reccaro seats) for my op. I finally got it done on Wednesday morning after a night of Morphine injections and tranquilisers.
So I'm now home. My ass is aching. I have a 3 1/2 inch deep, 1 inch wide open wound where the absess was which is packed and dressed and which needs to be cleaned, repacked and dressed every day by the (very lovely) district nurse. I've had a bit of my muscle removed and some dead tissue taken away. I've got a 6 week recovery, another week and half of dressing and packing and lots of gunge and blood floating round. I still can't sit down properly and I can only sleep on my tummy. I can't drive or bath properly (kneeling in that bath!) and I can't shower because I can't get the wound wet. All good then.
Turns out I was a lucky girl as the absess was trying to escape by moving to my kidney, had it made it I was looking at peritonitis and possibly losing part of the kidney which would have been infected. I have also found out that I am carrying MRSA which is the cause of the infection. So that's antibiotics every day for 6 months! Hurrah. This is also what caused my recurring colds over the last few months and my general not- feeling - well - ness (not the menopause as some thought!).
So there you have it.
Jenny xx
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