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A Story of Back Pain and Other Ailments
I am still using my voice recognition software, though I couldn't use it for my bid since it slows me down to the pace of my dad on a computer. Hence the screaming Back Pain. I think this means I've found the cause. I was really hoping it was the yeast. I mean, ok, it was a long shot, but it would have been easier to tackle than being forced to work at the rate of a 70 year old, and listening to the same call centre joke a hundred times a day. I have to wear one of these one-eared microphones you see, and I have got to the point where I am presenting a polite smile, gently hidden behind slightly narrowed eyes, to those people who walk by my desk and say "Ocean Finance, how can I help yoooooo?!!", like they are first person to have said it that day. I'd rather not eat bread. Of course there is the added hilarity of my still having a head full of snot, and it is having even more trouble recognising by boice.
The yeast thing is interesting. In order to rid your body of a yeast overgrowth you need to give up sugar, as this is its favourite food. Along with all fungi and fermented food and drink. This includes fruit, vinegar, sauces, ham/bacon, and a huge amount of other things that include mould, additives and sweet things. I am absolutely amazed at how much sugar there is in food. Do you know that Special K has more sugar than Corn Flakes? You do now you lucky people. Anyway I have lost five pounds in weight. However if you really follow the guidelines, this is what you will end up eating and drinking:
Water
Chicken
And the celebrities in the jungle think they've got it hard. They want to have a health obsession and then they'll know what deprivation is.
I am not sure whether to continue with my back pain story since I am now pretty sure of the cause, i.e. working for a living. I will just have to accept the fact that it will take me 17 attempts to type the letters i.e. for the rest of my working life. Though I haven't told you about the gallstone scan or the BUPA physiotherapist, or my current NHS physiotherapist (I waited the 30 weeks), or my experience of getting the doctor to give me a choice of hospitals when referring me to the pain clinic. And I have lots of other ailments both present and past that will amuse you all.
For now though, I'm going to take my snot-ridden head home to some daytime TV. I guess since yeast is not affecting my spine I will no longer have to gib up white wine. There are blessings in finally getting a diagnosis.
SG
A Story of Back Pain and other Ailments
I have just got my bid in, half an hour before the deadline. I have been working til 11 pm all week. I am in so much pain I have lost my sense of humour.
Sympathy please.
A Story of Back Pain and Other Ailments - Voice Recognition Software
I am leaving insomia for next time. I have been using my Voice Recognition Software for a week. It is both wonderful and amazing and an example of technological wonder, and the most frustrating piece of crap I've ever encountered. I will show you why, as I'm about to dictate a little story without editing every other word that I say.
Once upon a time there was a Lady who suffered from intense Back Pain. So intend washing on finding a cure that she let herself try all finance, and typed off her fingerprints three hours and hours and hours of Internet searching. No longer able to operate the key board for fear of losing the use of her upper back altogether for the rest of her life she invested (or rather her company did) in this track and software. The debt line of the 24th of November on the bid for funding that could result in either a) getting sacked or be) getting a nice fat bonus in the form of water cash in April next year, is blooming. My friend who is called Barack white bra is helping me with the bid which, instead of taking three days to write, due to this Dragon software, is about to take me until my 40th birthday (which if you remember will not happen as a result of the disastrous year 2006).
See if anyone can replace the wrong words with the right wants, sorry is, sorry once, sorry ones. I have highlighted them to make it nice and easy.
If it were a real dragon I would slay it with my Sword of Spine Power..
I went to my back man today for some relief. He cracked my bones and pummelled my muscles for 20 minutes which hurt me lots but now it feels a bit better. He asked me if I had seen A. who is also based at his clinic. I had seen A before - she did shiatsu on me. At the time my doctor who is very old and very posh, but I am so pleased I found him as he is actually as keen as I am to find a solution to my Back Pain. (Possibly because I keep crying in his surgery and it makes him fumble with items on his desk and that probably makes him lose important pieces of paper relating to other people's diagnoses). Anyway he was at the time of the opinion that I might have gallstones since the pain came on in my middle and upper back quite soon after I had eaten, and after drinking alcohol. I really wish I had not told A this, as she concentrated her shiatsu on the area of my body which supposedly relates to the gallbladder. This area is situated in the buttocks. I felt a little bit like a cabbage patch doll lying on my front with my leg twisted around towards my shoulder blade and a rather stern woman’s knuckles stuck in my bum joint, my face all contorted like the Munch Screaming Man. She then took my shoulder blades in her hands and rotated them round and round and round and round like the way they used to start cars at the turn of the 20th century. Munch Man eat your heart out, my mouth is bigger when in pain. I cannot go back to see a woman who hurt my bottom, it's just not an option.
After the shiatsu I decided to take a gentler route and booked in for some acupuncture. This was a very different woman. The shiatsu Lady was a little bit mad and I thought a bit uptight as she got annoyed with me when I stopped breathing all the time, but I did that because she was pressing on a nerve in my butt cheek that made my leg feel like I had a steel rod running through it. This lady was very motherly and had a proper ample bosom and wore a big smock top. It made me feel much more relaxed. I went to see her the day before my brother’s funeral as the thought of the long drive up was adding stress to an already awful situation. But, though it was all very nice, it didn’t do anything for my Back Pain after a few sessions, and being the frugal person I am, decided not to pay for anything that wasn’t working. Or get it free. Either suits me.
Until yesterday I did not eat bread or drink alcohol for 6 days, and guess what? I had NO PAIN for two whole days. I am getting onto the internet to research yeast allergies. I can feel a solution in my waters.
(This just took me a whole hour to write. Don’t buy voice recognition software, just disable yourself with RSI).
A story of Back Pain and Other Ailments - the Public Sector
I have already mentioned Ailments in my life other than Mr Back Pain (I'm making my Back Pain male for obvious reasons).
Let's see how many I can get through on my lunch hour (or half hour if we're being really precise).
Ailment No. 1. My job.
My job is ok. It could be much much worse like cleaning stuff or anything relating to being outside or working with children, or even worse "young people", who's street talk and downright rudeness make me want to cut out my ovaries. I am a consultant of sorts, but I have to do work with the (oh my god) Public Sector, Councils and the like. How people work for these organisations I do not know.
I have recently received funding from my Regional Development Agency (set up to give John Prescott something to do other than perv over women's arses - eeewww) to run an employment project for people what need jobs, and I have never repeated myself so much since my granny was alive and hadn't switched on her hearing aid. Only in this instance I had to repeat myself in writing. How many civil servants does it take to ask me the same question over and over again on different forms. And why do they take 3 years to get back to me on a question like "what is your name?". I'll tell you why, it's because the person being asked has to log the request on a form specifically for the asking of names and other personal details in line with the data protection act, take it to his or her manager in written form signed by the requestee and the person who's name is being asked for, backed up by an electronic version in triplicate. Then the manager has to write a report, take it to a committee clerk who will then complete a committee request template mandate to be authorised by 3 senior members of staff, 1 elected member and the Secretary of State for Lazy Twats. This then goes onto an agenda for a board meeting in 2 weeks time under Agenda Item 326 "Name requests and other personal details requested by members of the public, authorised providers, grantees and non-eligible nobodies". Once the decision at the meeting has been taken that the name can be revealed to the requestee, the mintues are then typed up and signed by the chair, 2 opposition elected members, a monkey (I could be cruel but won't) and the Council's resident stray cat. Only then does the officer in question have written authorisation from their manager in duplicate and copied to the 'name requests' file for audit trail purposes then e mail me back and say 'yes, my name is Barry Humphries' or whatever.
It is exhausting. I was given a deadline for a report to be written for 9 a.m this morning. I got it in on Friday at 2 p.m being the efficient consultant that I am, only to learn that there needs to be an Authorisation Submission Form for the Production of Government Drivel produced and signed by 3 people: the person presenting the report, the head of legal services and the finance director. If the deadline of 9 a.m. was missed, then I would have to get special dispensation from the Queen to resubmit it half an hour later. The head of finance had decided to take Friday off. Catastrophe. As luck would have it, it was submitted with the help of several council officers who were actually in work before 10 a.m. to get it to the committee clerk with a couple of seconds to spare before the gates came down. ALSO and I kid you not on this one, the committee clerk asked for a hard copy and an electronic copy so, being on the other side of London, I asked him if he could print off the electronic copy as his hard copy, and HE SAID NO! That is not the procedure. I swear I want to stop paying my taxes.
I am now I am sure known as the consultant to flounced Local Authority Procedure. So what. Worse things happen at sea, and they never pay me a proper day rate.
Last week I went on a training course on Local Area Agreements. Believe me I would not have chosen to do this course, I would have chosen "how to get your blog noticed" if I actually had a choice, but I figured I should know about this big service delivery shift in Local Government. It was delivered by two men, one gay the other just pretending to be. I swear I thought they were going to don orange shirts and denim dungarees at one point and start singing Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam. They made me gaze at my own and other strangers' navels for two days. It was touchy feely to the point of sickdom. They said they wanted us to 'have fun!!!!' It was delivered by the Public Sector though you see, which means they have to be 'inclusive' and not hurt anyone's feelings by saying things like 'actually you're talking shite, please release my ears from your voice'. Ground Rules were as follows:
1. There are no wrong answers. Well of course there are wrong answers, 5 + 7 doesn't equal rotten bananas.
2. Chatham House Rules. No one mentions anything outside of the room. Bollocks I was gossiping about what Sheffield were doing as soon as I got back.
3. Listen. I wish there were wireless mp3 players that fit into your head.
4. Respect other people's opinions. Not if they're going on and on and on and on and on and on about how the unemployed just need more self esteem.
5. Get this: Realise your hopes, defeat your fears. ????????
6. Stick to time. They overran by 40 minutes on the first day just blathering on about Islamaphobia because there was an Asian guy in the room. Turns out he was Hindu.
7. Have fun!!!!!!! I didn't. But the food was good.
When did training become so sickly? I would rather have Marjory Doors keeping it real.
Lunch time over. Tomorrow's Ailment: Insomnia. Don't miss it!
A Story of Back Pain and Other Ailments - Ouch
Am in much discomfort so am staying off the keyboard for a while. Though I think I might have hit on something.
I have been convinced for a while that my back pain is worse when I eat. Certainly alcohol is a factor (boo), and I think bread is too. This is rotten luck because I love bread in all its forms, and white wine is a buddy of mine. Red wine is far worse in the spine department though. I am not sure why eating a red wine sandwich should cause so much havoc. Of course, I have lost the plot and all my sensibilities. I am going to put my theory to the test.
Can't type any more. Am getting voice recognition software.
SG.
A Story of Back Pain and Other Ailments
Another Ailment - my job. I get to go to Leicester with my job. I am going on a training course about Local Area Agreements. Ask your local elected councillor. It's so thrilling I could eat my own bra.
Alas, adieu.
A Story of Back Pain and other Ailments - The Others
This blog is entitled "A Story of Back Pain and Other Ailments." So I thought I'd run a quick session on what those other ailments are.
1. Insomnia. This is a terrible thing and I would definitely wish it on my worst enemy as worst enemies deserve terrible things, and insomnia is indeed a terrible thing.
2. My Bloody Boyfriend. Who arrrgh! drives me round the bend most of the damn time. Men are creatures alien in nature, and should not share our homes. They should be making the species of other galaxies miserable and just leave us alone. No offence like.
3. Anal retentiveness, but (I think) only on a small-ish scale. I am tidy and organised and everything has a place. This is a GOOD THING, honestly. I used to have a flatmate who went around picking things out of the waste-paper bin when you've put a sweetie wrapper or something in it. She also rinsed, dried and put away tea spoons after making a cup of coffee. This is MAD. She was a shameful control-meistress, and thinking of her makes me feel better about my anality, especially when Bloody Boyfriend of Messdom brings out the worst of my need to put things away. I'd like to put him away....
4. Even slim people get gargantuan cellulite meteor craters. Not really an ailment, but still a rotten shame if you want to wear teeny hot pants.
5. Have got thing about belly buttons. Feel sick already.
6. Am a specky four-eyes.
7. A whole range of things that hurt me physically, generally monthly, always when I have something important to do.
8. A depressed current account.
I am having my tarrot cards read on Sunday. Am going with a couple of people who will take it all on board, but my cynical brain will not allow me to believe that the "death" card is actually a good thing. Not with all these things waiting in the wings to kill me. Death by cellulite. It's possible.