Clumsiness is...

…..kicking wet cat food all over the floor as you fall backwards over the cat…then opening the cupboard under the sink to get cleaning products…knocking half of the cupboards content’s all over the floor, smashing a bottle in the process…then banging your head on the way back up!

All shortly before you slip on the floor you’ve just attempted to wipe, then realise you’ve burnt your inner thighs. With a bowl of soup you didn’t realise was hot as you balanced it there.

Turbulent Tuesdays

Life is a bit hectic at the moment, and yesterday was no exception. Freak clinic day. I can't believe it's been a year! Actually, it hasn't, I went to freak clinic six months ago but I don't think I blogged about it.

Freak clinic went well. Dr FC said how pleased he was with my mobility and commented on how much physio I must have been doing to have gained this kind of control. Especially as he feels (as do I) that it is highly unlikely I'll ever be able to keep my hips from dislocating with each step. It works a bit like a sublux or partial dislocation as I weight bear, in that my femur returns to the socket on it's own, but is a more full dislocation in the distance the femur pulls out of the socket each step. With the strange sensations I've been experiencing recently along with some increase in palpitations Dr FC wants me to have a 24hr ECG, but said he thinks I am right in my theory that the sensations are caused by spinal instability and the palpitations etc I'm experiencing are because the heart is a muscle and affected by the defect in my collagen in the same way my other muscles are.

Dr FC also wanted to run some blood tests. There is a very good reason that the medical profession don't like the government plans for things like polyclinics, and yesterday's appointment was a perfect example of why continuity of care is so important in medicine, and in ways that politicians just don't seem able to understand. I first met Dr FC when I was newly diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Since then he has been able to get an overview of my changing condition, been able to build a picture of how much my body shape has altered, the symptoms which accompany it, and because he knows me, he also knows I can and do dislocate my thyroid gland regularly. That's the kind of insight it's impossible to get when you only meet a patient once, and the kind which gives doctors the ability to judge when further tests are or are not needed. It's what will be completely destroyed if polyclinics are pushed for, and ultimately I believe will only cost more taxpayers money as patients will return for multiple visits with different 'health care professionals' whilst they try to get to the bottom of a clinical picture of which no-one is able to take overall charge.

I went to get blood drawn after my appointment. Now, every woman likes to be given compliments. It's like, in our genes or something. Next to the 'light blue touch paper and stand well back' strand of DNA I should think. There's a time and a place though. So to the phlebotomist who told me he'd never forget a face like mine, then looked directly at my breasts, laughed and said he'd never forget parts which looked like that either I'd like to say whilst it's lovely to be appreciated, I'd prefer you didn't do so whilst your colleague is sticking a needle into my arm. Thanks all the same.

Once I was home the BYM (long overdue for a name change so from this point on known as Roland) popped round for a cuppa. He was in a car accident a few days ago where someone skipped a red light and smashed into the side of him. He's very lucky as the car is a write off, and he went to A&E on a spinal board, but fortunately is just very stiff and sore now with nothing broken. As he left, Jenn turned up and we sat and chatted for a couple of hours.

By the time Jenn had gone and I'd managed to get nothing,a few things nothing done it was dinner time and although I had enough spoons to eat, I didn't have enough to sort anything out for myself. So, Fruitrock and I went to a local pub which does buy one get one free meals. Pretty much a heart attack on a plate, but still, cheap and put in front of you. I think we managed to clear the area around us with our discussions about whether it would be better to become a dominatrix or sell used underwear online to make money. Our conclusion so far is that the used panties idea, whilst a good one is flawed by the actually having to wear them part. Don't you just love the recession?

We then returned to mine to ask google whether women really poo themselves in childbirth, discuss my teenaged theory that having sex was no different from using a tampon and the 'slug' Fruitrock found on her leg and showed her mother in utter horror. During that conversation the knowledge that there was no slug seemed to distress Fruitrock greatly. Her slug theory being way better than my tampon sex one....vaginal mucus anyone?!

That'll Make You SmileSweat

As mentioned, my laptop has being playing up recently. I'm even more dependant on my laptop than Amy Winehouse is on white powder and bad boys, so if ever there is a problem it stresses me out. Alot. Alot alot.

Last week, after a few niggles the charger started to play up and although my laptop was working fine, it just wouldn't charge. So, having had positive experiences there in the past I headed to PC World thinking that at least I'd be able to pick up a replacement power supply there, even if it was a bit more pricey than elsewhere.

Pricey is an understatement. I asked the exceptionally stupid nice man if he could take a quick look at my laptop and give me an idea of what the problem might be. I did say I was fairly sure it was the power supply as the laptop itself was working just fine.

That's where it all got a bit, well, surreal. I realise leaning in porn star pose can be a bit distracting, and perhaps it implies I have the kind of mental acumen most people might believe a porn star to possess, but still. I am not stupid. Um actually...........no, I'm not stupid.

So, when the man dutifully tested my power supply and first told me it was fine I did wonder. Then when he changed his mind as my laptop used it's last remaining battery to turn on just fine and said it was the power supply I wondered some more. Particularly so when the laptop switched itself off in front of him and he said it wasn't the power supply after all. Probably the mother board in fact. Oh, and the power supply needs to be ordered from the manufacturer.

Thinking it was the most stupid technical advice I'd ever heard, I still asked for an estimate of the cost to fix it. £220 for parts and labour. Plus VAT!!! I nearly fell over, and just asked what the point of that was when I could buy a new laptop for less.

Having taken PC World's extortionadvice on board I went to see Ziggy. Stressed wasn't quite in it. I was really worried I was going to be faced with a bill for a new laptop at a time I need to try and save first month's rent, deposit and moving costs. That's going to be a problem alone, but with rising cost of living the prospect of having anything else to shell out for is not a happy one.

Ziggy is as skilled with hysterical females as he is with computers, so having helped me to the office he suggested I use his laptop whilst he looked at mine. Before I'd even had a chance to check my email he'd tracked down the problem. A blown fuse.

£220 minimum parts and labour plus VAT for a fuse. New fuse 25p. Having a Ziggy in your life- priceless.
You know how it is when you get chatting to a complete stranger and they tell you all about how they were in the SAS? There's one in every pub!

So, I didn't believe the man I spoke to earlier who told me all about his father's incredible exploits....until I googled the name he gave me that is. He's the spitting image of the man in the photo, Sgt Dougie Wright MM. RIP

Dark, White and Milk

I love to death walk. That acute, relentless burn spreading out through my joints from core to tips. Washing away all thought and emotion in the need to focus so powerfully upon movement brings, eventually, a freedom and clarity of mind. Repetitive of route I love to watch the changing seasons play out in growing children's games amongst colours of trees and plants.

FloatingStumbling along today I measured changes passed in the year since I wrote about the strength of my chocolate lust. My walking has certainly improved in a physical sense, even if my hips violently disagree, but more it has linked me back to a world I'd thought lost for good.

It started more like three years ago. Perhaps even four or five. So gradually I didn't notice and so fast I couldn't not, my world shrank to four walls and a screen. A time much of which is blessedly blurred to me now. Cold, hunger and despair can never be forgotten, but nor should they be too closely remembered.

A moment of clarity driven by bitter despair. Two different views of a future played out as clearly as any Dickens' ever wrote. Wanting neither, still I wanted one less. Understood all I had to do to be me.

There were many months I was too weak to do more than sit. Exhausting myself at first for seconds, eventually long hours spent sat working my body to build some kind of strength while I fought for my mind to understand.

Those first few haltering steps blinded me with the brilliance of a world too long hidden from me. I would battle to go half a dozen paces away from, then back to the house. Increasing the number by one a day. It was perhaps another year before I celebrated rounding the long since closed sweet shop on the corner. And another yet before the welcome taste of chocolate to come.

As lives and seasons moved on around me, I built one anew. More different than I could ever have dreamed and all the sweeter still for earning.
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