Category: Musings

Getting Psyched Up for Hip Replacement

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

It seems that the bulk of the next year will encompass bilateral hip replacement surgery. That is with one big proviso, namely that someone is kindly willing to go ahead with the knife and the drill. I have already had pseudo-emergency hip surgery to mend a fracture in the neck and ball of my left femur. I had to wait three days morphed out of my head for the operation. There was an innate knowing that each day I waited the outcomes would be worse. To get prepped for operation in the morning and then to be told it is not going ahead is not the greatest of tidings to hear. In September 2019 I started my 55th year post-op with a titanium prothesis. I was awake during the operation which felt that someone was at my skeleton with an industrial grade civil engineering jack-hammer. Your whole skeleton resonates. I have an inkling and would prefer a general anaesthetic next time.

As can be seen from my April X-rays the situation with my left hip is complex.

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There has been a bony growth {blue arrow} over the top of the implant. This will need to be chiselled off to enable the pin to be unscrewed.

We could be talking three operations. One to remove the metallic pin, one to fit the right hip and one to fit the left hip. It will be up to the surgeon to decide what to do. You can see from the X-ray images that I am bone on bone, so to speak, on both sides. My range of movement is very limited. My arthritis is classified as severe or to use a lovely turn of phrase, end stage.

In my mind it is not clear how easy or otherwise it will be to have a successful complete hip replacement on the left hand side. The right hand side seems more common or garden.

At the time of the accident, a fall from standing in the kitchen, I was not checked for any bone weakness such as osteoporosis. There was a lot going on. The age at which the major fracture occurred for a male was young given a relatively minor trauma. The GP has kindly prescribed a bone density scan just to check if there are any bone strength anomalies we need to consider. If there is weakness there are some further blood tests including testosterone and calcium levels etc. A weakened bone has implications for hip replacement.

If you search for hip replacement personal stories on Dr Google you are confronted with masses of marketing and PR from various outfits offering butchery and repair. They are nearly always upbeat and scant in detail on the downsides. There must be some horror stories out there but these are not easily found. Why not? Without being overly macabre I would like to read some to get more balance. They have been somehow redacted. I get it that in most cases the surgery is transformative. I am always a little wary of one-sided reporting. It irks and poses the question.

I have no idea as to how well I tolerate pain compared to most. My speculation is that I can tolerate and endure better than average. Thus, my arthritis has progressed this far without me whinging and moaning too much. At the moment the pain levels are boring and wearing. They do grind you down a bit just as the joints grind away. Movement can feel like a pepper mill at the end of the day or a long walk. The 3 AM pain and subsequent medication is a tad intrusive. We have a supply of mid-to-high level analgesia in the pantry {given to the wife} which I have not touched yet. The possibility of a “trainspotting” red carpet moment exists.

I do not imagine myself doing a pogo to the Sex Pistols post op. It remains to be seen to what extent movement returns and pain diminishes. If you read the glossy bigged-up articles and watch the videos my career at the Bolshoi can restart, soon enough.

I have enough upper body strength to use a Zimmer frame with ease whilst sporting my Crips gang colours. This strength is on the one hand enabling and on the other limits my need to do recovery leg exercises. A mixed blessing.

We will need to pay for a gardener to do the hard labour I once did. It looks like we will stay here for the next year. To attempt to move house in the middle of getting sliced would be lunacy.

On the one hand there could be enhanced movement and a “new life” or at least a better few years. More likely the improvement will not be step function but an obvious improvement.

I know that I can hack lying around post-op with sexy compression stockings and daily anti-clotting injections. I will lose weight because muscle mass will go. I will not eat much at the hospital. The biggest worry would be a Myeloma relapse for the wife. That would make things very tricky. Two ill and disabled people in the same house. We already have a well-used loyalty card at the local hospitals. We could write a “Michelin” guide to French health services.

I don’t really have fear, yet. I have had general aesthetics near half a dozen times. In a weird way I quite enjoy the coming to process.

Again, the district nurses are likely to be regular visitors chez nous.

Yup it looks like close on a year for two {three} operations and the recoveries therefrom.

Life will kind of be on hold…

A Bit of a Nodal Point…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

It has been an observable in my life that when life trajectory is approaching a nodal point for change, where different paths might offer, that things tend to stack up like London buses running behind schedule. Events converge, apparent available time runs out and a number of crises manifest. Things start to get hectic and it is difficult to keep clarity.

At the moment we have the selling up house and buying a smaller one choice. That might be in France or UK. In any case a move. I could do science “A” level tutoring in the UK for a few extra quid a month.

Also, there is an increasingly pressing need for me to get replacement hip surgery, which adds to the mix. Unfortunately, I could not find contact details for a traditional Fairy Godmother on the internet. Hence, the joints are only going to get worse and the pain is unlikely to diminish.

We have the Myeloma sword of Damocles hanging over as per usual.

The feasibility of a nanna-flat in the UK looks OK. There are less bungalow type houses here. The cost of living in the UK is a lot higher. We are in the administrative system here and could qualify for a 10 year right to live card next year.

I am not seeing anything new that I want to do in our garden of two acres, so the time to move is now or around now. That is also the feeling. There are a few before sale internal DIY tasks which I/we can hack. All of this is very normal and mundane.

I know from what I am picking up subjectively that there is a small finite possibility that events could transpire which would markedly change the trajectories. They are related to my Tibetan Buddhist dreams. They hint at a trajectory far away from nanna-flats, Zimmer frames and secateurs.

That febrile trajectory is not close to taking shape, though inquiries may have been made today. It is a lot quicker to ask me direct than to speculate.

A simple small win on the lottery would enable. It would buy room to manoeuvre on the house move front. It would not have to be much…

I have had some more titanium put in today. I have an implant fitted in my jaw into which a false tooth will be screwed at a later date. So, yippee, antibiotics for a week.

Stuff continues to stack up…

Bumpkins Go to Saint Helier

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It is very difficult to get across to most people just how out of touch we are with modern living and specifically people density and noise. Aside from medics, tradesmen and checkout people, I speak with nobody other than the wife. This has been the case for quite a while, over six years. I have spoken in person to/with her brother and friends when they visited. I have had very few zoom type calls in that six year period. Certainly, less than two dozen. I do not speak on the ‘phone. Nor do I chat via email or WhatsApp whatever the hell that is.

In many ways I am a bumpkin, a pikey and a hermit. I am no longer accustomed to “sophistication” nor the high octane pace of somewhere like Saint Helier Jersey. {Population~ 30k}

I am unaccustomed to any social interaction.

Part of the purpose of visiting Jersey was to see how it felt to be surrounded by people and anglophone people at that. It is fair to say that I am still a little shell shocked. We were out of the compound for less than 48 hours and in the Metropolis for 24.

The fist thing I noted was just how frantic and ill at ease people were. The energy they were giving off was edgy and wanting to please, to fit in. The manager at Pizza Express asked us if we wanted the app…Why? I don’t use apps and we have not been to a Pizza Express for more than six years. I did not even have a ‘phone.

The people in Jersey seemed rushed and hassled compared to here. And boy were they loud when bullshitting each other. I noted several chunky “personal trainer” types, keen to exploit the Jersey dollar for fitness and “well-being”. There is money and it attracts.

The only calm experience, outside interaction, I had was when I sat on the bench outside M&S and a well-heeled woman older than me sat next. Neither of us were rushed. We shared silence for a few minutes. She went into Givenchy. The main street was a bit like a cross between high street Guildford and Bond Street London.

Jersey is clean and “posh”. It is also surprisingly multi-national with people there to meet the services sector demand. I used to hang out in posh places, South Kensington and earlier Mayfair / Piccadilly. I lived in Brixton.

The hotel we stayed at was very nice. We ate at the hotel restaurant. They played loud “party” music and people outside on the terrace were necking booze and smoking or vaping. The food was good and the service very, perhaps overly, quick. There was noise and laughter outside. I thought to myself that once I used to do that kind of thing. I would have been content as a Brit on the piss. It all seemed more than a little forced and false. It was hurried. There were ostentatious handshakes and kissy-kissy helloes.

I was the alien from another planet. I was able to order, in English, food from the pygmy African waitress. I was observing, earth.

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The rheumatologist suggested we move to Jersey for the “quality of life”. It did not seem that attractive to me. How do you explain quiet tranquillity with no social interaction and a gentle river running through the garden? That has quality and not a constant needy need for social interaction and social affirmation. There is no need for endless consumption, conspicuous or otherwise.

I am still sighing a little, a whole day later.

What is obvious from that visit is that it is probably not wise to live in a “built-up” area and that I do not miss the people in whose country I once lived. I do not need that English vibe.

It might be possible to live in the countryside and visit an urban “metropolis” when there is a need.

Unfortunately, I am like a sponge and can pick up all that emitted jangly nervous energy. It made “in town” sleeping hard.

Theoretically It would be possible to earn money tutoring wealthy kids in physics and chemistry on Jersey. But I don’t think there is anywhere there far enough away from “civilization”.

If I found Jersey difficult to hack, London would cause a complete meltdown.

Did I really get on the Victoria Line every weekday morning during rush hour? Really? And without any medication?

In terms of incarnation that seems like the most surreal incarnation that I have ever had.

Still more than a little shell shocked after only a very brief jaunt…

Buddha Says, “Don’t Be a Drama Queen!”

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One day when he was sitting under the Bodhi Tree a question popped into Buddha’s mind.

“Why do people make such a big fuss about everything, why are they overly dramatic and highly emotional about their normal lives and how they think life ought to be? Why are they forever whinging and complaining about their lot?”

And then he had it, the essence.

“Don’t be such a drama queen!”

The Bhagavad, the Tathāgata, the Venerable one, the Blessed, had come up with a simple piece of advice which would help people ease the imagined burdens in their lives. To lighten their imagined loads and to thereby enlighten them.

“Don’t be such a drama queen!”

He had found the precious jewel of wisdom. If people could live life as it is rather than with an overly dramatic soap opera style overlay there would be much less suffering in the world. People would stop flailing about and over-reacting. Calmness, harmlessness and peace might abide.

So, whenever you find yourself reacting to a situation remember and enact the precious jewel of wisdom garnered under the mighty Bodhi Tree.

Buddha says, “don’t be such a ridiculous drama queen about everything!”

None the Wiser

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Not long back from a visit to Saint Hellier Jersey where I saw a consultant rheumatologist. They suggested that there is no extra immune-stuff active in my skeletal problems and that most of my “random” inflammation events are probably so-called gout.

There is a lot to unpack mentally and in terms of feelings. There is a question, “did I really live like that once upon a time? Really?”

In the space of a few weeks, the consultant was the second to note and comment upon my recently measured elevated haemoglobin levels. Which could be due to my prior smoking, my COPD, genetic causes or living at elevations during early adolescence. Others causes like blood cancer are very unlikely.

In nearly every medical situation the fab three are rolled out as the most likely cause. The trio of obesity, booze and fags are the go to default diagnosis. In the UK there is a bit of fetish about BMI. It is a well-used mantra. This trio may have a confirmation bias effect. I am / have been triply holy.

In the 1994-5 when the people at St Thomas’ London were looking into the haem thing it was put down to smoking. They bled me on a regular basis to try to drop my haemoglobin levels. It was a part of a whole host of “lab-rat” tests that I had done back then. I was a very cooperative rat, happy to be in anyone’s research programme. This probably rules out esoteric causes.

The most surprising thing with the consultant was their surprise that there was no bone density follow up after me falling and breaking the head / neck of my femur. I fell only from standing in the kitchen at the age of 55. The drop was well under one metre. The rationale was that this was a major break from only a small fall. There could have been something wrong with /weakening my bones. I am male and osteoporosis or osteopenia is uncommon at that age. They were surprised that it was not investigated. They may suggest some follow up tests in a letter.

They were also surprised at the severity of my hip osteoarthritis and the near complete lack of motion, sideways.

Here is something that I may have picked up. When people note or examine me, they perhaps transfer some imagining as to how it might feel / affect them if they were in the same condition. They may see a bleak future.  I have had a number of people talk about quality of life to me. Given my flexibility and pain, it might inhibit their current life-style in which they “do” stuff. There is a bit of a shudder. “What if that happened to me?” The advice is to have a bilateral operation so as to have “quality of life”. My serene quality of life far from the loud and maddening crowd may not appeal to them. Quality of life is very subjective.

So, does one cling and try to maintain an active quality of life according to the common view, feeling miserable every time life stops you from doing what you once did and feel you ought to do?

Or do you simply adjust to your new reality, to come to terms with your lot?

Philosophically I suspect that modern medicine is bad in a Darwinian sense for human evolution. The weak and the sick can live and breed. They can live to old age. People have children at a later age increasing the prevalence and propagation of birth defects and damaged genes. Humanity will live longer but it will be sicker and less healthy.

Sounds a bit eugenic…but we are seeing the “success” of modern medicine impinge of health services and economies.

If karma has caused me to have badly arthritic hips, is it wise to try to outsmart karma by having a modern operation?

Ok, I was born in a time where such things are possible but is that a temptation of our times, trying to have life on my own terms? Maybe I should simply settle my karmic debt and endure quietly without complaining?

I am speculating that maybe I need to stop taking any medication whatsoever. It is not making me happy this endless merry-go-round.

As I said, I am none the wiser…

Being a Part of a Wider Story

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We all have stories about our lives which we tell to others, we have the so-called curriculum vitae which we use to gain {or otherwise} employment. More often than not we may be bigged-up in our own version of our events, our narrative assimilation. Rarely do we cast ourselves villain.  In our stories there are other people, other cast members, upon whom we may apportion blame. The “baddies” are not us or ours. There is propaganda and PR about our role in the world. To imagine that we recollect and then retell with 100% accuracy is delusional. Our perception is not omniscient and our bias remains. Our stories contain fiction and are skewed.

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From time to time events can happen which can get us to completely re-evaluate our lives and the events therein. Our erstwhile self-diagnosed angelic roles may be called into question. How we see someone can change dramatically and that can unpick our previous narratives.

I can envisage this story, told piecemeal in the blog, being part of a much wider picture. One that could attract media attention and upend many things. For example, were I to be outed as a tulku then everyone who has ever interacted with me might change their story. There may be a few lines in a newspaper and even a wiki page. People could have an interesting snippet to add to conversation over dinner. Some might view an incarnation as a science academic interesting, if only for a fleeting moment. Before they watch the next TikTok.

“When I knew him, he was a right piss artist…Tsk, Tsk.”

In other contexts, some might imagine tremendous luck and an auspicious meeting.

This is of course hypothetical. In this corner of the internet, I am not a part of a wider story. It is / I am unknown. But you never know when our stories might come crashing down.

Because of what I can envisage I am pretty confident that I could handle it. Not that I am likely to need it.

Unless people are monitoring this blog, only a tiny few people know. If it is being monitored then that too adds to some wider story, which in the fullness of time might emerge. It adds flavour and spice. Secrecy is always a tasty plot line.

We sometimes are a part in a wider story of which we are almost completely unaware.

You the reader may be a part of one, which you may or may not ever become aware of.

One day everything you thought you knew, might change.

Then again it might stay the same.

Something Changing…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Over the last few days I have had the sensation of things stacking up, coming towards some kind of nexus. After which the future might be clearer. There is a sense of tension and of missed opportunity exterior to our world. I feel an avoided crossing which may not get close to manifesting for a large number of years or ever again. The sense is of an aperture closing, of time running out.

Life can take trajectories other than we might imagine.

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It does not turn out the way we might anticipate or expect.

The upcoming rheumatology appointment may shed some light on what is going on with my skeleton. It is wise not to get too optimistic. Life has shown me that I have to endure on a number of occasions, there can be no solution or let up.

I feel one pathway one trajectory  may be closing off.

I do not see a way forward.

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It is all a little up in the air.

This little foray upcoming may come to something or send us back to where we started.

What may be happening external, according to the banging jungle drums, I have no control over. But my gut feeling is that if anything is incoming it will be a foxtrot unicorn. An overly complex “cunning plan”. If such a thing is in the pipeline I would advise, desist. But since when did anyone listen to me.

It is weird. It feels as if something is afoot exterior to the compound here…

What may come in dreams tonight remains to be seen…large pink-bunny steroids don’t sound all that attractive.

I will be all Timmy Mallet – wide awake.

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Importance and Priority

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“What is important is seldom urgent and what is urgent is seldom important.”

Dwight D. Eisenhower

People can deem all sorts of things as important; these can be personal or of a wider more general import. I think it fair to speculate that the majority have a me-centric sense of importance. The things which matter to them concern themselves, their lives and those of family and friends. Things on their agenda are more important than those not.

I am important in the lives of one human being and three cats and maybe some birds which we feed. That is the extent. My priorities are in and around this sphere of influence. My significance to the wider world is very small. In terms of social kudos I have none. My passing is unlikely to impact beyond my circle, my sphere.

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I have just gone and lost a piece of tooth filling. Which is actually both important to me and ever so slightly urgent. I am due to have a titanium implant fitted soon. It is due next to the broken tooth. Unless the tooth is repaired, they may not go ahead with the implant. In my me-centric world this is horizon stuff. We need to know so that we can free up a dental slot by prompt cancellation if that is the case.

The concatenation of various health problems is getting to be boring.

What happens here, in principle, has a wider impact elsewhere. But I doubt anyone in San Francisco needs to fear the butterfly effect from our compound.

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Self-perception has implications. We watched a film last night “The Substance” and surprisingly it had a big affect on me. This is unusual. It was about human folly and the desire to be young / look young and operate in an appearance obsessed society. People go to extraordinary lengths to keep up appearances. I can’t remember being much concerned about how I looked. All I wanted as a teenager / early twenty was for my fairly severe acne to pass. Being called “pizza face” is not a great deal of fun, named after a Margherita.

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In an earlier post I postulated that “face” was one of the most expensive of all human notions, human folly. It appears to be very important to some and they will kill and maim in an attempt to preserve face. Face is behind conflict, face is behind war, face {loss} is causal of revenge. The weird thing is that face is a completely man made illusion. No leopard or tiger would acknowledge your sense of face or kudos in the jungle at dusk. Yum, yum…

As I was making coffee this morning, I noted that although I imagine that I have some knowledge to share. This notion is not widely held. It is not held important on a wider scale. It does not matter what I imagine.

Out there somewhere important people are busy doing things they deem important. They have their priorities whether considered or otherwise. I have never been so disinterested in all the hot air, hype and show which fills the news.

The world has lost its sense of direction. It is heading deeper into petty squabbles over who sells what for what price in the sandpit or behind the bike sheds. The world is arguing the toss about who is or isn’t a fair trading partner.

Thousands of people are dying and the world is focussed on “deals” and “bargains”.

The great car boot sale is on!!

Thousands no longer get antivirals; ordnance efficacy can be tested in vivo in Gaza and Yemen. Let’s boost arms spending hype so we can sell more weapons…

I think the priorities of humanity have been badly skewed and it is not getting better…