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My Diary/Blog For the Month of November 2013 |
Friday 29th November 2013 |
20:35 GMT Today has mostly been grey with a few sprinkles of rain. The current temperature is 8° C, but I guess it was probably a degree or two higher earlier in the day, or at least it didn't feel bitingly cold. Last night was enjoyable, but could have been far more fun if allowed myself to have a proper drink. The Catford Constitutional Club pub opened at 6pm, and the gang and myself were there very soon after. We had started drinking in The Catford Ram while we waited for the CCC to open. It should have opened at 4pm, but the building inspector was not happy with the fire alarm system. Within 2 hours the problem was rectified, and the place allowed to open. You can see a hastily installed fire alarm point in this picture. View down the length of the pub. The building had been disused for 16 years and had quite a musty and dusty smell, but it wasn't too unpleasant. I don't know what plans there are to re-decorate it. At the moment it has the original wall coverings except where they have been stripped back to the plasterwork in places. There are also lots of posters/pictures and other stuff on the walls that presumably date back to when it was The Catford Conservative Party club house. I had two pints of Winter Warmer in The Catford Ram while waiting for the new venue to open, and with my desire not to drink too much last night, I only had a solitary half pint of beer in the CCC before going home. I believe that a few of the gang ended up staying very late last night. After getting quite whammoed the Thursday before, it is probably just as well I went when I did. The reason for the lack of beer, and also being a bit careful what I ate last night, was because of my Cardiac Rehabilitation Physiotherapy session today. I wasn't looking forward to it, but it turns out that only a few of my fears were justified - well justified ! I didn't like having to lie at the induction portion. All the paperwork I had was adamant that I had to have breakfast or they wouldn't let me exercise. I was not looking forward to the exercise, but it was most of the reason for the session. The trouble is that I cannot exercise after eating. Maybe it is not so bad now, but old habits die hard, and I deliberately did not eat anything before going out. I also tried not to drink too much as well. I was fairly confident I could cope with most of their silly exercises so I made sure I walked there the long way round (about 0.75 miles) at a brisk enough pace to bring on a hint of sweat when I stopped. I was quite surprised how easy the exercises were, and very, very surprised how easy the step ups were. (This was like continually going up one tread on a staircase, and the going down again). The step was a nice height, and 100% easier than those bloody steps at Earlsfield station. During the course of the session I must have done the equivalent of going up the staircase at Earlsfield 4 or 5 times ! Inside the gym with the steps in the foreground and nurses plotting at the back. While the exercises were easy - enough to raise a sweat, but not enough to need more than moderate breathing - they were, as I expected, bloody boring. It is almost criminal to generate all that energy and let it go to waste, but in terms of boredom there was worse to come.....in a different sort of way. After the exercises, which ended by boringly going slower and slower, there was a relaxation session. It could have driven me mad if I didn't see the funny side of it. A nurse speaking softly and slowly, accompanied by some incredibly bland music, also played very quietly, was supposed to relax us, possibly to the point of falling asleep (which I think did work for one guy). The only trouble was the theme the nurse talked about. It was about a holiday on a white sandy beach. I have never experienced anything like that in my life, but I was immeadiately reminded of something I had seen on QI quite recently (on a Dave repeat). Apparently, according to Stephen Fry, white sand is actually centuries of accumulated parrot fish droppings. The fish feed on coral, and the white coral passes right through them...... The nurse was describing slowly walking along a bit of the beach, and then sitting down under a palm tree to rest. The only problem with this is that when I visit a beach I want to walk along it exploring as fast as possibe to see as much as possible in the limited time available - obviously stopping to take photos on the way - something like this. That is relaxing for me by one definition, but not the gentle coold down that the nurse was trying to instill in us. I am sure I found the step ups more relaxing - it was just a simple mechanical motion that you could let your body get on with while your minded drifted to thoughts of food, fags, booze, and all the other pleasures in life. At the end of the lunch break that followed the relaxation session, I had a word with one of the nurses, or maybe she had a word with me. I told her my feelings about the session, and offered my resignation. Until that point there was a waiting list for people to get on the sessions, but evidently it is not as big as hinted at because I was not thanked for generously giving up my place for someone who might need it, or enjoy it more. I stayed until the end of the day. The last bit was a lecture about symptoms of heart problems, and was sort of interesting, and may have imparted some useful info for the future, but I reckon I can live without more information. I suppose now I can look forward to some very brief lecture from my doctor when I see him next Thursday. Oh well, at least I am free for now - free to follow my own exercise regime of as much walking as the weather allows (almost zero during winter apart from commuting when I start that again), and weight lifting (a pint glass from table to mouth). I came home at top speed through the park (the exercises had hardly sapped my energy at all). It was cold, grey and damp in the park, but it felt good to be free. When I got home I poured myself a large glass of scotch. I didn't need a drink, but I wanted to do it just to be a naughty boy, and to toast my success for the day. I was going to have more scotch, but one glass seemed to be enough to prove my point. I was thinking of having more scotch tonight, but I can't seem to find a good reason to pour one for some unknown reason. Oh well, I'll just have to look forward to a couple of half pints of ale when I accompany Aleemah to the pub for her breakfast tomorrow. |
Tuesday 26th November 2013 |
13:52 GMT I wasn't expecting today to be quite as sunny as it is. It has not been continuous sunshine, but it has probably been sunny for longer periods than it has been grey. All the sunshine has raised the temperature from a bone numbing 5° C this morning to a teeth chattering 8° C now. I had a really lousy night last night. I just could not get comfortable in bed once I tried to go to sleep. There was no specific part of me that was the source of being uncomfortable apart from my left hand. Other bits just very mildly complained, but my left hand hurt ! I was expecting, or hoping to expect some sort of change to my left hand, and although there wasn't one single point in time when it happened, it had certainly had happened by last night. The problem is that I can't get too annoyed about it. It may be quite uncomfortable, on some occasions very much so, but it is a change for the better. My left ring finger is almost back to normal, and the ratio of normal feeling to tingling has improved a bit in my little finger. I can now just about imagine I can determine the texture of cloth using my little finger, but it is painful to do so. The outer edge of the little finger, and than down the outside of the palm towards the wrist is now even more sensitive, and any light touch is very painful - real bad pins and needles. Hopefully this phase of the transition back to normality will not last long, but in the meantime I am finding that I can increasingly use my left hand normally under certain circumstances. It is still feeling weak, but for lightweight stuff, and where I can avoid my little finger being used, I sometimes forget that it is working at less than full capacity (but one wrong touch reminds me most painfully that all is not well). This morning's sunshine would have inspired me to go for a decent walk this morning, but the bad night rather messed that up (plus for some reason my legs felt a bit creaky). I did manage to go for a short walk through a few select parts of Catford, but I barely covered a whole mile, and possibly less. I thought if I did nothing else I would take a quick peek at how The Catford Constitutional Club was coming on. So aiming in that general direction I walked past Milford Towers (North)........ The north end has a
couple of
stories of car park with residential accomadation above. It was
originally built as high class flat for professionals in the late
1960s, but like so many of these places it ended up as a "sink estate"
full of problem families. It is also infested with bed bugs according
to recent rumour. More significantly it is suffering from concrete
cancer, and is due for complete demolition in a year or two's time.
The south end has a Tesco
store. Once upon a time the store was narrower, and there were a few
independant shops, but as they closed the space was used by Tesco.
A slight change in
viewing
angle shows one of the stairscases, and a lift up to the residential
area. At the back of the picture is the no longer used rear entrance to
The Catford Ram - which will also be demolished along with Tesco and
the bed bug infested residential floors.
The first pictures just
showed
one of the two parts of Milford Towers, but as this picture shows it is
actually two blocks parallel to each other. The right hand, or eastern
half, follows a similar format to the western half with shops (and the
pub) below, and residential accomodation above.
After taking pictures of Milford Towers I moved on to The Catford Constitutional Club - new home to the staff, management, beer, booze, and (they hope) customers from The Catford Bridge Tavern. There were no good photo opportunities there, but plenty of work is going on. They still claim that it will be opening on Thursday evening. A surprising amount of work has been done recently, but to my untrained eye there still seems far more than two days worth to do. Having seen all there was to be seen there, I decided to take a wander up to The Catford Bridge Tavern to see what I could see there. Apart from a few posters in the windows about how they are moving down the road, it looks pretty much the same from the outside, but peering through the windows reveals a whole different story ! The inside has been stripped
bare !!
Bothe picture were taken
through windows. The top one through one of the windows on the main
road side, and the lower one through the window of the door on Dogget
Road. I've drunk (and been drunk) through three incarnations of this
pub - The Railway Tavern, The Copperfield, and The Catford Bridge
Tavern - and I never imagined that it could look like this. All the
internal walls that looked so substantial, and once separated the
lounge bar, saloon, bar, and public bar were just partitions.
The building (including freehold as far as I am aware) is now owned by Camden Bars, and it looks from their web site that their philosophy is not so different to Antic who ran the pub during it's spell as The Catford Bridge Tavern. So there is some hope that Catford will eventually have two quality pubs (plus the rat hole that is the The Goose, and the cheap and cheerful miserable London And Rye). |
Tuesday 5th November 2013 |
17:22 GMT It didn't look very nice, but it didn't rain during the first part of the morning, but by mid morning it was happily drizzling down. I don't think there were any heavy showers, but it was probably quite persistent until this afternoon when there were a few sunny spells. It seems to be dry outside now. This morning was very slightly less cold than yesterday morning - possibly around 10° C thanks to the extensive cloud cover. Now, just a little while after sunset, it is barely 11° C. Tomorrow the weather is forecast to be so appalling that I can't bare to bring myself to describe it. There is something fundementally wrong with today at a deep metaphysical level. It's probably something to do with the Moon being in Uranus, or maybe not enough goats/virgins/chickens/heretics/sinners/pagans * were sacrificed yesterday/today, or perhaps God has a hangover, or she is having a period. I am not the only one to notice it. Reading through comments and postings on social media web sites shows many people having unusual trouble with their lifestyles today. These range from the mundane to someone accidently dropping their toothbrush down the toilet bowl. * select according to your own preferences I only mention this negativity as a poor excuse for my own negativity today. It started overnight when, after getting excited about the prospect of another, or maybe even an even better nights sleep, I went on to have a really crappy night instead. Some of it may be directly attributed to pain in my left hand, with some of the pain even creeping into my wrist, but that may have also just been the trigger for worse things. In an attempt to get comfortable I tried sleeping on my left side, and on my right side (as well as on my back). Sleeping on my left side is almost getting comfortable now, but sometimes, last night very much included, it can give me a pain in the neck. Sleeping on my right side still gives strange sensations in my chest, and can pull my scar tissue if I am not careful. The very worst is to toss and turn trying each position in turn because that really pulls the scars in my chest around. My chest ended up feeling quite sore, and the soreness persists even now albeit at a reduced strength. So I started today feeling sore, and may have made it slightly worse when I washed my hair and had a shower this morning. I then added to the misery by putting a shirt on to go out. Fortunately that is one area where there is a very obvious improvement. I still prefer to go around bare chested indoors, but wearing a shirt when going out is getting less and less uncomfortable every day now. Quite often I forget the irritation to my scar tissue (and also the very strange sensation on my slightly numb left man boob) after a while, and it's only on odd occasions while I am out that I am reminded of it. Before going out, which was to give yet another blood sample to the vampires up in the attic of the surgery, I checked my blood pressure. It wasn't too bad at all - which was rather pleasing, but my blood glucose level was disappointingly high, and getting a bit critical. There are various "cures" for my blood glucose, and the best one is to get back to work where I can have a more regulated day, and get back on my diet. I may not be ready for that yet, but the drug Metformin may help in the meantime, and once I get to see my doctor he may well prescribe it for me. The trouble is that I don't see him until Friday. I was supposed to see the nurse today, but while I was waiting to have blood drained from my arm I recieved a text message on my mobile phone saying the nurse was sick, my appointment was cancelled, and could I call to make a new appointment. After giving the blood sample I went down to reception to see about a new appointment. The earliest I could get is Monday of next week ! I will of course be inspecting, and re-dressing my own wound well before that, and I expect it will be practically healed by now, but by next Monday it could be reeking of gangrene for all the NHS care ! So I came home from the surgery just before the first rain fell. It was dull and gloomy, and I was in pain - not severe pain, but the irritating sort that jabs you in the ribs if you dare forget it's there. I felt pretty pissed off, and I felt hungry - a deadly combination that could only have been worse if I had given into the strong desire I had for a cigarette (or 20). As well as a common set of circumstances that might produce the desire for a fag, I think I was also forcibly reminded of it by the amount of coughing I've done recently. There are various potential reasons for me to suffer from what is quite frequently a bit of a dry cough. It is a known side effect of one of the blood pressure drugs I was taking. I am taking another one now that is supposed to not have that side effect. It can, and probably is, also a side effect of the hairs (or cillia) growing back in my lungs and airways as a result of not smoking two whole months and almost a week now. In theory the latter should not really be a dry cough, and indeed sometimes it isn't. I think that sometimes it just takes a lot of coughing to get some of the tar and stuff from deep in my lungs to the surface. I sometimes wonder if it is such a wonderful thing at the moment when each cough can sometimes, but not always, painfully jar my scar tissue. So this morning was not exactly a bundle of joy, and at exactly the same time as I should be eating less, and carefully, to reduce my blood sugar level, I ate all sorts of crap. Fortunately none of it contained overt amounts of sugar directly, but it was high in carbohydrates which get converted to sugars in the body. This afternoon, which was really just a continuation of this morning, I started to formulate a plan to finish off the last quarter litre of scotch I had. That's not enough for a good bender like the week before, but maybe it would act as a good soporific for tonight. Earier on I was sure I would do it. Having partly vented my spleen now, I am not quite so sure I feel the need to do it, but I think I probably will anyway. |