Monday, 27 April 2009

Going back to basics

Ok darlings, Bunny's going back to basics.

Its simply out of frustration at not being able to eat jack that has got me into this state.

I truly didn't know that people out there in band land drink-eat their breakfasts and often lunches and its made me feel a lot better knowing that fact.

So as of today I am going to try and turn over a new leaf and deal with the eating situation as it is. I cant afford to change it (i.e. get all the fluid out for a cool £100), and its only making me the most miserable beeyatch I know fighting the band to armageddon and back.

The only other option is to go with it.

So today I had a coffee for brekkie, and some chicken noodle soup for lunch. I like chicken noodle soup because I can drink the liquidy part and get the band eased a bit so that the noodles slip down in there too. I think I will make pasta puttanesca tonight - who would call a sauce Prostitute sauce...

No seriously thinking about it, only the prossies would know the recipe right? So if my husband came home and said "Hey darling, why not try putting tomato, capers, red peppers and lemon - hey throw in some tuna to the pasta tonight hey?" I would ask him where he got the recipe... "Oh, you know some prostitutes made it for me whilst I was at the whore house getting my rocks off you know". Yeah of COURSE he would say that!! To be honest I would wonder that any Italian man in 1600 would come back with a recipe for anything. I am sure its just been glamorised. It's probably 'housewife sauce' in all reality. I cant see that the prostitutes would have any 'different' ingredients to the general population. So seriously - how DID that name get into common circulation. I am pretty sure that no-one would have promoted it as that. I even did wikipedia on it and I don't believe it at all.

My finger is still splinted. Its still killing me, and I hate the gravel drive more now than I even did. It has got to be block-paved to within an inch of its life. You know it didn't even apologise for tripping me up!! How very dare it.

I have kitties are climbing up my legs right now. They certainly got over their nasty toxoplasmosis thing. Poor little babies! If I hadn't taken them to the vets they would have died. Apparently there are so many kittens born with it that they are called 'fading kittens' and apparently a lot of people just think they were not born right, or defective and aren't going to survive and have them put down. So sad that it isn't widely known. For the sake of 2 weeks antibiotics all 4 are perfect again.

We also picked up our little puppy Geoffrey yesterday and he is adorable.
I will post a photo of him on here when I get the card thingy out.

So, I'm hanging in there. Thanks for all your messages. And Tina... I am holding you to that drink! ;o)

Sunday, 26 April 2009


Hi there people,
Thanks for all your support. I guess I cant just put a statement on this blog and not explain :o)

Yeah, at the moment me and the band are not friends. I don't know whether its a head thing or what, but something ain't right. I don't seem to feel the way everyone else with a band feels.

My band wont let me eat anything half decent until at least 8pm. I spend most of my day starving hungry and only able to 'eat' liquids. When I get to the end of my tether I make some mash potato or something and try and eat it in nibbles, but it more often than not comes right back at me... this can go on for hours until the magic 8pm watershed and then all of a sudden I can finish the whole bowl off.

Then its bedtime and I know the whole rigmarole will start again the next day.

Some people suggest that my band is too tight. Well, I am sorry, but its not. I have been down the 'take some out' road with disastrous effect many times. They take out a bunch of saline and I spend maybe £400 getting it all topped up to the right point again... but staggeringly THAT POINT NEVER COMES!

I am not joking. I can be wide open and able to eat a whole pizza... go for a fill and be able to eat half a pizza, go for another fill and be able to eat 1/4 then another one and I suddenly can't eat anything, then I go back and have another tiny bit out (less that was originally taken out) and I can eat a whole flaming pizza again!!!!!!!!!!

This farce has got to end. I am so hacked off with my band I can't begin to describe it.

Couple that with the fact that I have had the operation twice and it still ain't working...

Obviously people are going to read this and think "well, if you eat pizza then...Pheph!" But I am just using it as an example. I actually cook all my food from scratch. I eat organic (heniously expensive) meat and veggies and limit oil etc etc.

The killer for me is actually the hellish nightmare BAND! Because I cant eat like a normal human being I actually feel my mood slide during the day and I feel like getting out the aspirin, a carving knife and a needle and thread and sorting the blasted thing out once and for all. It gets to 8pm and I am exhausted at the effort needed to eat. Every bite is a torture and I am fed up with it - then i grab chocolate and crap and sit in a puddle of dispair and self loathing feeling the pits of the deepest darkest prehistoric stinky swamp for eating rubbish.

I was 18 stone when I had this thing done 2 and a half years ago, and now I am 16 stone 9.

I am tearing my hair out and to be honest I think I would be better off without it. Like everyone, I was prepared to put in the hard graft, but I have been grafting for 2 and a half years and getting nowhere. Most of you who have struggled the same amount of time have actually lost loads of weight and life is looking great. My life is the exact same because every day I get on the scales it reminds me that I pissed £4500 down the toilet. I wish I had never bothered.

That's gonna annoy anyone off right?

Abuse and correct at will my freinds... somethings got to work.

Saturday, 25 April 2009

Oh boy

...well, I am typing with a broken finger. I know that sounds lame, but TRUST me, it's totally terrible.


Tragically, there is no wicked amazing story to go with it. I just fell over at my doorstep - and No! I wasn't drunk either!!!

We got back from the cinema yesterday and I got the shopping out of the car then my ankle rolled over on the stupid gravel and that's it. Two very bruised knees, a sprained shoulder and a fractured middle knuckle on my left hand.


Not fair man.

It was a totally RUBBISH day too. Started off excellent. I was lying in bed reading 2 Joanne Harris novels (Sleep Pale Sister and The Evil Seed, and yes I read two books at a time... I like to chop and change every half hour!) then whilst relaxing at 11:05am I remembered I had an opticians appointment at 11:25. IN THE NEXT TOWN.

So I raced off, got my eyes tested and ordered my prescription etc and then raced back as I was looking after a friends daughter for the day.

All was cool, we went to see Monsters V Aliens in 3D and it was on exiting the car after returning home that I did the ankle rick/falling over clumsy bit.

So I have a fracture to my PIP joint which will require 6-8 weeks in a splint and the therapy.


Today I tried to go to work. I got to my first appointment and decided I would never make it out of the village, so went home and told everyone they were welcome to come to my house, but there was no way I could get to theirs. They were all pretty cool about it, but only 2 of them actually came to have a lesson here. Ho humm.

When DH got home we decided to have a BBQ. We went off to Rainbow and bought some beef steaks, pork chops and sausages. When we returned Danie decided that HE was the KING of BBQ and told be how I was going wrong etc and how the fire was too hot and that to Brai or whatever they call it is like a ritual to them, and really really REALLY MUGGED ME OFF.

What a caveman. Seriously. I cannot believe that there are people out there who hate black people and think Women should be told what to do and Men are the best.

To be honest, I quite like a bit of "Oh honey, you sit down, I'll do this... its not good for you", but not to this extent. What a PIG IGNORANT SWINEHUND.

He is such a racists its unbelievable. I will not even tell you what he has said about black people in South Africa because its just so disgusting. He has only been here 6 weeks and I cant wait for him to go. He spent the last 10 days in SA and it was PURE bliss. The arrogant shmuck. His poor wife - seriously!!

So they are going on Thursday because they have found a flat. This is all his idea. She knows that its madness to take on a flat when she doesn't have a job and he hasn't even received his first pay cheque, but he knows what is best for them all. Idiot.

Web have a Romanian truck driver moving in on the 2nd May which should be good. Back to normal hopefully.

band - forget it. I wish the thing wasn't there.

Sunday, 12 April 2009

*hanging head in shame*


I know its been a long time, and I am so sorry Tina. I kept meaning to post and just didn't get around to it - then it was over a week and then two... you know how it goes.

so, how much has happened in the last few weeks? LOADS.

Right then, the last time I posted Rob was still with us and any day he was going to have his job finish and give us his notice. Well this happened 2 days later. He left us on the Wednesday, and we were actually out. We came home from the cinema to find a bottle of red and a nice note on the table thanking us for having him and making us welcome etc but that he had got his kit together and left that evening. (Oh and Erika - here you can get a great Shiraz for under £4 - bad news for me!)

So this was in fact quite good for us because he left only 3 days into his notice period and that meant that we could get someone in the room immediately. However, the lady who was lined up to take the room had already found somewhere else, but had not bothered telling us.

So, to make the room even more appealing we put a double bed in the room and some pictures and moved it all about and now it looks fabulous.

So we duly advertised the room, and had no takers (for about a week). During this week we went down to my Mum and Dad's to get my car MOT'd and it passed without any problems. groovy. We also went to see my brother in his cobblers shop and DS had a cool time there.


I think DS will have to do his work experience with my brother. They will have a great time. Its funny to think that both Bro and I were only 13 when we started cobbling. I was eased somewhat more gently into the trade being a 'girl' but by the time I was 15 I was mending like a pro. My Bro took my job when I left for college (we go at 16 here in the UK) and was mending on his first day. Now he runs the place. Good eh?

We came home, had some chocolate, wine, take aways and more rubbish and I just could not be bothered to diet in any way shape or form. We were in desperate need of spondoolics as the room was empty and wasting money.

On Saturday 14th March, 10 days after Rob left, we got a call from a lady called Jean. She was from South Africa and said that she had been trawling the net trying to find a room for her friends Danie and Claudine. D&C had apparently come to England to work for 5-10 years and were looking for a flat. She told them they were mad, and all they needed was a room in the general location until they were on their feet, had started jobs and had the capital behind them for the deposit bla bla bla. Both of their sons were in the British Forces, and were on leave trying to help them out. They also said they just needed a room, and Jean told us we sounded ideal.

I told her the room was still available and arranged to pick them up from the station on Monday so they could see the room. I was so desperate to get it filled, and this was the only call I had had in 10 days.

I went to fetch D&C and their two strapping twin lads from the station, and they came and had a look around. They were very pleasant and chatty and seemed like a lovely family. C was very stressed out and you could see she needed a break bless her. She said 'it's like coming home' as we drove up the drive. They told me that they like the room and would let me know that evening.

Not exactly the answer I was looking for, but at least hopeful. I made them a coffee and we sat chatting about stuff for about 15 minutes as the next train didn't leave for a while. It was then that D was telling me about his sister being in the UK and trying to trace their family tree. She hadn't had much luck. Well of course I said that maybe I could help because I had been doing it for years and might have the connections to give them a hand.

He said his family name was very unusual and that it was unlikely that he would find anything, but he wanted to try.

The name is indeed very unusual (and for privacy reasons I am not going to repeat it) and it just happens to be the EXACT same family name as mine. I was B L O W N away. There was all this kind of wide eyed 'no way' kind of stuff going on. I had been looking into that family line for 12 years and his particular family line for 6 and a half with NO SUCCESS. His family had been trying to trace back from South Africa for about 3 years similarly with no luck. So as 'fate' or wahever would have it, my long lost family had walked through my door.

I swear that when I saw the twins, something hit me that I couldn't put my finger on, and when I found this out, that's when I realised that they were like my great grandad exactly. Even in the same regiments.

Obviously my great grandad isn't smiling and hes about 16 when this was taken, but the resemblance is too weird for words.

So guess what... they took the room there and then! HA HA. I know that C was very very relieved and as I drive her to the City for a job interview she said she felt at home here and that it all seemed so divinely organised. It certainly is newspaper worthy I think.

They move in on the Thursday, and the rent crisis was over thank goodness. D didn't start work for about 10 days so we were able to take them around and show them some things about the place. I also took them to Sussex to see their roots and some very memorable things went down. We had a lunch in a pub owned by one of their ancestors kin, and stood on Littlehampton beach where their South African Founding Father had his house and most likely stood in 1840 before he left for South Africa. He owned one of the houses in the seafront row here.

So a very emotive and exiting couple of weeks, and then on Friday 20th March Mary had her kittens. 4 lovely little bundles. It was extraordinary as she was so humongous and only had 4. All of them were fine though, which is what mattered.

As the week progressed we all mentioned the fact that they were very contented and seemed very lovable. they were very handleable and fell asleep in your hands. So delicious!

The situation did not change and, although they were gaining weight and feeding well and looking scrumptious, they didn't move. They didn't hold themselves up or wander about.

Yesterday I took them to the vet because I was very concerned that at 3 weeks old they could not walk. they lie in the basket and only move around to get to the teat, which is usually about 2 inches away from them. They lie on their backs and they have no guarding reflex... you go as if to poke one in the face and they don't blink or move. You clap your hands suddenly and they don't jump. They are seemingly the most contented kittens in the entire world, and that is exactly what is wrong with them. This is not normal. also the fact that they wobble about trying to walk if they are put out away from the basket, and they tremor in their sleep and have massive jerky movements also doesn't bode well.

The vet new there was something wrong too. He said that there could be no definite diagnosis (well there could, but it would cost mega bucks), but he suspected that Mary was exposed to Panleukopenia virus whilst pregnant. It doesn't affect the adult cat, in fact all cats come into contact with it during the first year of their lives, but if the cat is pregnant, it can be bad for the kittens. It usually means they wobble, shake and are lethargic. Euthanasia was suggested but both he and I were not exactly willing to do that right away until I tried something else.

Another virus - called Toxoplasmosis that every pregnant mother has heard of -"don't touch cat litter or dig the garden whilst pregnant" etc... Well cats get toxoplasmosis from eating a raw bird/frog/mouse. This happens very often apparently and the cat will emit oocytes in its faeces for about 14 days. It does not make the cat ill, and it doesn't even make humans ill... it only affects mammal babies in utero - human and feline.

The virus causes a parasite to enter the body of the kitten and it crosses membranes etc and will eventually grow in the cerebellum of the kitten who at about 3-4 weeks old will begin to die - called fading kittens. This is much more usual as the injection against panleukopenia has been very effective and has become a rare disease now. Certainly Mary didn't have any of the symptoms of the disease at any time.

Now, given the fact that my kittens are 3 weeks old and still alive but very very dopey and lethargic, he thinks there might be a strong possibility that it is toxoplasmosis rather than panleukopenia induced Cerebellum Hyperplasia (the first option), so we have started giving them antibiotics. They should start to improve in a few days if it is toxoplasmosis and the infection will be clear in about 10 days to 2 weeks. Mary did have a weepy eye at about 7 weeks pregnant, which is often indicative of toxoplasmosis infection - but that's about as bad as it gets in adult cats.

If it is Cerebellum Hypoplasia, then we have a problem. The kittens will actually live to a ripe old age, just be wobbly and weird and docile and dopey. Actually a lovely lovely cat I think. But they will be basically a disabled cat, and have to live indoors as the roads will be treacherous and they of course cannot jump. So at the moment, we are waiting to see. I seriously hope and pray that it is toxoplasmosis.

So that's an ongoing story, and another ongoing story is that we are getting a new puppy! I know, you must think I am mad, but after Clifford our black labrador died 2 years ago, we always said we would get another dog but we kind of never could broach the subject as the death of Clifford was still too raw. Then of course Sue moved in bringing Dylan with her, an old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, which DS adores.

Now Dylan in 12. That's ancient for a CKC. It could be any time that Dylan croaks his last, and I know DS will be devastated. So DH and I decided it might be a good time to get a puppy to preempt his demise and give DS his own doggie again.

Little did we know that Airplane Grandad (DH's father) was thinking of getting DS a dog as a gift anyway, so it turns out that we get to choose a puppy and he is paying for it! Brilliant.

So our new puppy is a Blenheim Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who we have named Geoffrey.

Here he is at about 1 week:

At 5 weeks old

What a Cute little baby, and the puppy's not too bad either!!

Ok, as for band news... whats to say. I am not doing anything with it. If I choke, then I puke and then I go back to my food when I can. Its just an annoying piece of silicone and I cant deal with thinking about losing weight right now. I have half hearted thoughts of going on slimfast for a while and seeing what happens but the right week never seems to come up. I have it all here ready to go, but just cant get myself motivated. I just wish I had gone for the bypass. I know that if my band had not gone wrong, and I know its the same for my Bunk Mate 'M' from Brugge too, that I would be winning this battle, but we lost serious emotional, mental and physical trust in this thing and its never come back.

I do want it too, but right now, I am not in that zone.

Ok, I will promise to write this blog more often, because this has taken me hours and I don't want to be doing that again.

Oh, yeah and I am going to an Indian wedding next weekend - henna, sari the works! Cool eh?