Taking Stock – Massive Disconnect

It is one of those things. If two people are interacting and one thinks they are miscommunicating and the other does not, who is accurate? Many assume that they are communicating better than they actually are. People can be oblivious when miscommunication occurs.

The observable evidence of the “we are above the law” thinking from the USA has just been drilled deep into concrete bunkers in Iran.

“We don’t like the bastards, we can kill their asses as and when. Deals, treaties, international law are only pieces of paper after all!! We have the God given right!! {And the B2 bombers}.”

So now it is overt {again}. It is unclear as to how things go from here. Maybe the global least harm is a petering out.

I am not filled with joy at the prospects of peace and goodwill for all.

I have been noting of late a complete disconnect between how I am and think and, others. Today the orthopaedic surgeon suggested I look at what I might want to do and to use this as a guide as to the when of facing the knife. In my mind I simply adjust to that which I am able to do. I do not get upset and frustrated if I cannot jog round the block or walk 10km. The suggestion washed over me. Why would I even bother to think like that?

This disconnect is even more obvious when watching 24 hours in A&E on the TV. I hear people talking to camera saying that they could not survive without so and so, expressing their catastrophising on hearing that their loved on has gone to A&E, thinking the worst.

Why not simply make your way there and find out what the best guess scenario is from the doctor? What benefit is there in catastrophising?

Clearly, I am weird by comparison.

One could argue that I am indulging in medicine, with all these scans, check-ups and blood tests. I don’t think that any of them are urgent or life critical. I have already accepted that I have pre-cancerous prostate cancer. It seems to me a matter of when not if. The PSA value is going up…

I am due an arse-cancer chimney sweep soon. After that there is a five year holiday for “good behaviour”. It is probably worth getting that done.

Way back in the nineties when they were investigating my polycythaemia, I was a regular visitor to the phlebotomy centre. It being St Thomas’ there were a few Jamaican nurses, some of whom were a good laugh.  I would get bled. They would check my haemoglobin on a regular basis. If my addled memory is correct the results of phlebotomy were to enhance my haemoglobin count over a few months. We ended up dropping it, the bleeding, I was asymptomatic and perhaps the medical student had finished their research project.

In terms of all the tests none of them will change the reality, they may alter the apparent awareness of reality. That is about it. Maybe it is simplest just to drop them all, to let things be. If I don’t drive it, it will fizzle out.

We come back to the whole pain question. I have no idea how others experience pain, nor whether or not I have a high pain threshold. I suspect that I am not at the overly sensitive end.

I can tolerate things without moaning. I am not overly prone to whinging. We could park the idea of hip surgery and revisit it in a years’ time.

Maybe I just need to wait and see what transpires…

It is a very strange disconnect when people imagine some kind of ambition or want. They transfer it on to me. They think I am somehow like them. They expect this. It is impossible to explain how I feel to others, nor begin to convey the difference in wiring, orientation and motivation.

It comes back to this feeling. I make people uncomfortable by interacting therefore it is perhaps better that I do not. I observe this discomfort. I don’t have to inflict myself.

Hmnn…

Social Discomfort – Social Anxiety Disorder

I think it fair to suggest that social discomfort is a pillar of comedy. We all find it funny if sometimes uncomfortable.

The more uptight, pompous and status oriented one is the more likely one is to experience social discomfort. Heaven forbid that someone do something inconsistent with their social position, something gauche, something off trend. A pleb should kneel and kotow. They must know and accept their place.

At the Babraham Institute once, one Ph.D. student wrote in the feedback for a course that I gave, that it was unprofessional for me to say that my former employers, Imperial College, were a cold efficiency employer. They were not a hugs kisses and birthday cake bunch. He felt perhaps that I was slagging them off. Though many would have been happy to be called cool {cold} and efficient, competitive and perhaps ruthless. As a young man he had a lot to learn about reality and maybe his idealism would soon be tarnished.

Psychologists have a fundamental assumption, that people like to socialise and that they SHOULD do so. It underpins much psychological diagnoses according to my non-erudite and hence inexpert eye. It is clear to me that my unwillingness to play the social game has impacted on my career advancement. One could say that socialisation is a societal pre-requisite for promotion, a needed social skill.

On the DSM-5 social anxiety scale one is asked if one avoids social contacts, extensively prepares for them and self-medicates in order to face them, the so-called Dutch courage. It suggests that one is fearful of social situations. Maybe one simply does not like them and therefore avoids them {like the plague}. It is not uncommon for people to get pissed, smoke weed and snort Charlie in social situations.

Does that make them psychologically ill and diagnosable?

I’ll postulate.

Modern psychological wisdom is prejudiced against introverts and introversion. Such behaviours are seen as faulty and in need of fixing.

As usual it is the extroverts who dominate the “air time” or soap box.

In terms of the anxiety disorder, I meet the avoidance criteria but not the fear.

Is it bad not to want to surround yourself with gobshites arseholes and knobheads? To not share a finger buffet and talk endless shit with them?

Why not avoid something that you do not enjoy?

This kind of avoiding seem pretty darned sane to me.


In general I dial back on the boffinaciousness because it causes social discomfort and nobody likes a know-it-all. Which means that you often have to wait for people to catch up. I used to self-handicap with a lot of weed, which also enhances patience in all areas apart from munchies.

In France some are seemingly embarrassed to speak poor English, where no English are embarrassed with their appalling French. It is weird. Is it about control? There is social discomfort. They do not slow down {in French} and talk to you like a moron as is common {in English} in the UK. I sense a discomfort.

I went to see the zebra at the zoo.

I’ll postulate further.

Social discomfort and the fear thereof is very limiting and causes many problems. Things that need to be broached and discussed are avoided in case of social awkwardness occurring.

Fear of loss of face {FOLOF} is almost as big as fear of missing out {FOMO}.

Even though I am very introverted I have good interpersonal skills as a part of my chameleon toolkit. Strangely the most important social skill of all is being able to listen. It puts people at ease.

Is being uncomfortable with BS a clinically diagnostic malady? This is a social discomfort but not one of awkwardness of embarrassment, simply preference

Is there a DSM-5 criteria list for the Avoidance of Bull Shit Personality Disorder?

Do we need to train people to better accept tolerate and otherwise believe bull shit?

………………….

Anthropology Research – Non Starter?

Following on from a thread raised by yesterday’s dream I have been looking at the theme of Anthropology. Carlos Castaneda was awarded a Ph.D. at University of California Los Angeles in Anthropology. If I understand it correctly viewing his thesis requires and in-person visit. {I have checked.}

A while back I applied for a Ph.D. position in Branching Space-Time as per Belnap at a Dutch university. I was genuine in that application; I would have enjoyed it but was not eligible for funding as I already had a Ph.D. in Chemical Physics. Another philosophy academic who was looking into quantum told me that I was not a trained “philosopher” and he wanted such. I doubt he had ever played with high resolution or ultrafast lasers. He had no personal hands on experience of quantum effects.

I found today that at Social Anthropology Cambridge University a Tibetan Buddhist monk got a Ph.D. there.

Applicants for Ph.D. research are encouraged to approach staff members to elicit supervision and then to make a formal application. I suspect that an application from me would be non-standard. It might raise an eyebrow or two. It would probably cause social discomfort.

Unfortunately my university personal tutor is now dead and I have not spoken with my Ph.D. supervisor in over two decades. So I do not meet the referee criteria outlined on the university web site:

——————–

Academic referees

An academic referee will be someone who has guided and assessed your academic work. 

For example:

  • your personal tutor
  • your tutor for a dissertation, extended essay or piece of project work
  • the teaching lead on a module of particular relevance to your proposed postgraduate course
  • your tutor from an academic internship at your current or another institution

At least one of your academic references should be a tutor or supervisor from your current or most recent degree course. If you have just started a one-year Master’s course and staff do not know your work well yet, you may prefer to choose a referee from your previous degree course.

PhD students should not be nominated as referees. If you have been taught by a PhD student and they know your work well, you can encourage your referee to talk to them.

Your referee will not normally be your proposed Cambridge supervisor unless they fulfil the requirements above and no others are available.

Professional referees

A professional referee will normally be someone who has had responsibility for your appraisal and delivery of work.

For example:

  • your current or previous line manager
  • a senior colleague who knows your work well, such as a director
  • a project manager for a project on which you’ve worked

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There is a part of me tempted to open up a dialogue. It could be fun but probably predictable in outcome. Rules are rules after all.

Maybe I should approach the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies at Oxford or look at the Open University. Is there a French equivalent?

Access beyond pay wall for journals could be handy…

A journal recently wanted to charge me $40 dollars for an article I wrote…

It is only a couple of pages long…

If operated on I am going to have few months out of the garden…

The Repair Theme and Technology

There is a reasonable chance that I may be able to have two total hip replacements. Hopefully if that goes ahead it will be under a general anaesthetic. When I had my Titanium pin fitted, I was conscious, if drowsy as they had given me a spine injection. That was a bit PTSD.  I can still feel the reverberation in my skeleton as a memory.

I will be hooked up to technology.

Last night before dinner I was able to watch a short version of a total hip replacement operation on video on YouTube. It looked pretty gory and they use a mechanical hemispherical reamer to shape the hip socket. It was attached to a common or garden battery style drill. They also did extensive work with muscle and flesh retractors. There was the sound of mallet on metal and it looked pretty barbaric. Not an easy watch.

Technology has come a long way and any joint should last perhaps a couple of decades. They will see me out before clog-popping time, should they be fit-able and fitted.

In a real sense my incarnation may be prolonged by modern technology. Maybe I should stop complaining about ‘phone use….

It brings to mind a whole new raft of karma, due to our success in medical technology. On a philosophical level I have some reservations about overly prolonging life. I am more convinced that so called cosmetic surgery for vanity is karmically bad. It is a form of self-harm and obsession. It is a way of reinforcing the folly and illusion of obsession with appearance and form. People pay to have others cut them in order to look more sexually attractive. This is not the behaviour of well-balanced people.

I am not sure that the surgeons are free of karma in this transaction. They do something for money which is not demanded by health requirements.

If people need to find out for themselves, that is their business.

I am due {perhaps} a repair.

Today we took a laptop to get a new screen and our 2005 vintage sit-on mower needs a new drive belt. It is not a good design if it needs repair after at most twenty mows. It is wearing out.

The theme of being beat-up and in need of repair is active today.

I really cannot believe what the “Statesman” in the Whitehouse is alleged to have said about finding and killing the leader of a sovereign country. This is a new low in the personal and the petty. It is hard to imagine. Things are getting very toddlers in the sand-pit like. Unfortunately, one of these is armed with vast deadly ordnance

It occurred to me that I may be being operated on just as things really kick off. I may be vulnerable and incapable when the shit hits the fan. We have a fixed price propane tariff which is looking like a good thing today. Maybe we need to order some more wood, soon.

Maybe we will have a working mower, laptop and a partially improved repaired me. I don’t think that the Whitehouse or Tel Aviv can repair their damaged relationships easily. The seed of unreliability has been sown.

It is very sad, if people are shooting those queueing for food. Barbaric, uncivilised, retrogressive. Vlad the Impaler of lore would be happy, maybe we need to bring back mass crucifixions along the Appian way.

More brutal power and cruelty seem to be on the cards. Maybe we are back to the old Bush chestnut of WMD in Iraq…

Any excuse to kill, to maim and to explode…

Death and brutal maiming by “clean” modern technology takes the humanity out of murder. It turns it into a first person shooter video game. There is no blood spatter, no acrid cordite, no sweat, no smell of putrid wounds. No entrails to trip over. The dead are put in a white sheet and buried in a mass grave by some other bugger. TV and video is not in smell-o-vision.

It is inhumane….

… and very sad.

Speculations on Dreaming Themes

Over the last few days, I have become increasingly concerned for Israel. Not in the sense of the outcome of war, rather in the sense of the karma it is sowing for itself to be harvested in the decades and centuries to come. Netanyahu may want regime change in Tehran; it could happen in Tel Aviv too. The pot perennially calls the kettle black. Internal unrest is a bigger risk than any external threat.

There are a lot of loud threats and bellicose rhetoric abounds these days. Putin and Xi are probably enjoying Fox news and Herr Shouty.

The Tibetan / monastic themed dreams of early May have given way to health and history dreams. There is a recurring technology science ideas theme. For whatever reason people from my now distant London UK past keep cropping up. I don’t feel, from my perspective, any emotional detritus attached. I have no axe to grind. My working notion is that there is some weird unresolved karma there and among them. From time to time, I get “Toltec flavour” dreams which is not surprising given the effort and time I dedicated thereto. There is nothing I can or may do with the science dreams other than to note them and then park them.

The Buddhism themed dreams fading suggests that it may currently be a nonstarter, a path in the wood which peters out, a run through.  They came around Vesak and may return next year.

It seems to me entirely natural, given my health situation, that I am having health dreams. My working notion here is that my poor health is a reminder not to be so keen on reincarnating.

“Look it hurts! Don’t bother doing it again.”

What is and has been very noticeable is the relative absence of French themed dreams. We have lived here six years and aside from a few Macron dreams and a couple of a local lucid dreamer; there have been very few. The interaction here has been largely detached and non-personal. There is no “entanglement” so no need for dreams.

My horizons are dependent upon if I can get operated upon and what may or may not happen during and after. If the answer is no, then that idea can be parked, we can move on and we need to figure out how to live. At the moment it hangs. If the answer is yes then the process starts and will dominate for months.

The world can erupt and I will be here recuperating {hopefully}.

What happens with the irate and the bellicose may impact here. The fuel prices will rise. Provided it does not go global-ballistic, life here will go on.

I may have a new “lease” of life post-operation, I may not. What that might look like I have no idea.

The world “out there” seems far away. It does not seem happy. It is divided and people point stiletto fingers at each other.

“It is OK for us to bomb the fuck out of you but don’t you dare bomb us back you terrorist bastards!!”

This seems to be the current logic, the PR gist.

That is the hymn sheet for us all to sing from…

Outside it is sunny and the lotuses are starting to open in the morning sun…soon there will be a nice display. The Hirondelles must fledge soon. We can then power wash the guano under the nest…

Secondary Polycythaemia and Medical Buses

When you wait for a bus isn’t it always the case…

In the near future I again have a clustering of medical appointments. There are three the week after next. One of these is with an orthopaedic surgeon. Then later I get to see an anaesthetist and then the colonoscopy chimney sweep. After that it is prostate fun and games. Since it was a few years since my “chimney” was last cleaned, I anticipate a few polyps. Which will be excised and sent for biopsy.

My Haemoglobin levels are at around 17.5 or higher.

The blood results for HFE mutation have been sent to the GP and only they can give them to me. It is probably safe in my case to give them without narration. I won’t freak out. This is France and protocol is protocol. If negative {normal} then the consultant rheumatologist suggested JAK poly screening to explain the high haemoglobin, polycythaemia (erythrocytosis) results. If HFE mutation positive then I will be giving a pint a week of blood as haemochromatosis induction therapy. Because I have had cancer this blood will probably go down the drain, it is not good for vampires.

“Molecular genetic assays for the detection of the JAK2 V617F (c.1849G>T) and other pathogenetic mutations within JAK2 exon 12 and MPL exon 10 are part of the routine diagnostic workup for patients presenting with erythrocytosis, thrombocytosis or otherwise suspected to have a myeloproliferative neoplasm.”

The default diagnosis of secondary polycythaemia due to historical smoking, early stage hypoxia due to COPD and perhaps early adolescent altitude is the most likely. The JAK 2 screen is for some rare but serious stuff. Myeloproliferative neoplasm is not a nice phrase. It is a dot the Is and cross the Ts test. It needs a specialist prescription.

The blood results have not found a simple, normal, explanation for my osteoporosis.

The causes can be attributed to the Holy Trinty: Fat Fags and Booze. Although I am technically obese, I am also muscular, there is meat and lard. The GP may be able to shed some light on what is going on when they give me the HFE gene results. My calcium and phosphates are normal. They may suggest more tests, specifically liver, looking for fatty / alcoholic liver etc….

I am not expecting things to be tied up or solved.

Sometimes it is just one of those things.

I guess the most important thing is that there will perhaps be clarity on the replacement hip situation. The if, where and when. Some decisions will need to me made, some preparation needed. There may be wood to chop and a gardener to secure for the time(s) when I am out of action.

Looks like a summer of fun!!!

What is your diagnosis, Bob?

I had a difficult night last night with a lot of pain. This usually happens after I visit Torquemada the physiotherapist. It settles down over the next few days and is generally much better because of his ministrations. He said, “let’s hope you don’t have even more pathologies.”

Some more blood tests results are due and I am sanguine about them. It took many months of rapidly worsening health for the wife’s Myeloma diagnosis. This after a very scary mis-diagnosis which had me contacting people assuming a strict time pressure.

My list of ills is relatively long and we could use Bob’s simple diagnosis. It is unlikely that there will be some overarching diagnosis which explains everything.

We can’t turn back time. And there are many things in life which cannot be fixed, solved or otherwise put right. Social conditioning suggests that an apology can make things better. An apology does not alter Karma and forced begrudging “false” apology makes things worse karmically speaking. If there is some genuine acceptance then that might take the sting out of the accrued karma, a little. What our parents tell us in kindergarten does not really work, “say sorry to Sally for nicking her Maltesers!!” It is a pretence often.

During the night I had a brief dreaming segment concerning Myeloma UK. It had occurred to me if we move back to get involved there. I have probably read more medical-disease-epidemiology papers than most. When I have interacted from here, I have come across a UK based parochialism, “that is the way we do things here!”  Best clinical practice in France, Europe and the USA is not followed due to the accountants at NICE. In a real sense if you do it well first time, it saves money instead of doing multiple rounds of cheaper less effective treatments.

Luckily the patent on Revlimid has expired.

There is a well paid career path in charity management and I am not entirely convinced that the high salaries are justified. I find the heavily PR oriented and sanitised Web presences a little unreal. I understand that they want to give hope, but they do airbrush reality. I understand that they are not aimed at the likes of me. They are often not very real and people revert to blogs and video from genuine human beings. Things need a human face not some corporate blah.

When I was looking for a job, I got interviewed for several board positions. Because I was a bit young and not one of the gang and all praising, I did not get the job. I was asked what I could bring. I said new ways of thinking, some energy and something fresh. Comfortable places with cobwebs don’t like that sort of thing. People in power although they like the theoretical idea of a functioning challenging board, do not really.  Itchy back disease is prevalent. I am more than 90% sure that I would have brought, eventually, positive change. I am very organised and good at process.

Apple carts do not like to be upset.

Sometime gatekeepers keep useful people at bay.

Anyway, only my alpha-globulins have come back low. Low alpha 1 can mean alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency which can cause lung problems like COPD and wheezing!! This can be genetic…

Both alpha 1 and alpha 2 low can mean liver problems.

What do you reckon Bob?

Social Blurring and Status Problems

During the night I came up with this term “social blurring” to try to verbalize something which has seemed difficult to / with me in my social interactions. That is behaviour within the common social-conditioned view of the world. It is surprisingly difficult to put into words.

One could say that I do not have the “proper” respect for social position and authority. Nevertheless, I am law abiding, these days. I am pretty sure that I have put noses out of joint among those who consider themselves higher, better, more powerful than me.  I am not prone to arse licking or sycophancy. I do not play the itchy back game in a transactional sense.  I do not curry favour nor do I butter up. It is possible that this has been noted. People have gotten hoity-toity with me when I have not shown enough respect “due” to their position in society. In some cases, this has caused a punitive response, particularly when I was a precocious graduate student. I have reason to believe that this detrimentally affected my career. To me it is no big deal if someone is a famous Prof, a CEO or a King. I see the person and not the status.

Clearly there are social “problems” inherent in this attitude. A mere pleb did not ought to think like this and perhaps needs reminded of their position on the ladder of life. I do not appreciate my position in “the” pecking order as a serf.

Various people have said things to me which made little or no sense to me but seemed to make sense to them.

My mother, from the Rhondda valley, said that I behaved “to the manor born”. Which meant that I was a bit posh and at ease in posh places like expensive hotels and restaurants. Nchanga Consolidated Copper Mines paid for four years at an English private preparatory school. I had an itinerant childhood and thus became an adept chameleon. I never had a sense of not belonging in a posh place. I can walk into the Ritz and feel at ease. I have been on stage at The Royal Albert Hall. I can walk into expensive private homes and not feel at awe.

Twenty odd years ago Théun Mares said that I was an alpha male. I thought to myself what the fuck is he on about. He kept banging on about this and some wolf pack interpretation of status. It had never occurred to me that I am in any way alpha nor dominant. I have no desire to assert position nor have underlings. I do not need nor want to snarl to keep a pack in line. In this weird world view I am a lone wolf not a pack animal. I clearly do not exert or exude the boundaries others anticipate. I am not interested in being top dog nor will I be overly submissive either. I don’t get excited by the intrigue of power struggles, nor can I be arsed with them. As a consequence of not snarling people can take the piss. The boundaries are blurred. Some, so I am told, like clear boundaries and definition of position in pecking order.

When I was a lecturer, it never occurred to me that I had status and position, in that context. I saw myself as no better than the students and definitely not a font of all wisdom. I interacted in a manner similar to a third year graduate student with a first year graduate student. It was more working together than professing. When I left my job, it became abundantly obvious that there were elements of social positional power associated with that role and the institution in which I had been institutionalised. It was a big deal for some, whereas for me it was bog standard. The lines between staff and student were accidentally blurred. I saw them more as equals than underlings.

In a weird sense I am used to being listened to irrespective of social position, there may even be some residual expectation of that. This expectation is rarely met. I have mostly gotten used to it, though on occasion it can flare up particularly if the other person concerned is ignorant and yet adamant in their ignorance. Sometimes I fail to hold my tongue and I do not care what their social standing may be.

In general, I am not awed by social positions but may be socially awkward when in numbers. I just find the ritual sniffing or normal social interaction boring and pointless. This means that I do not satisfy apparent needs / requirements of others. I can seem like an odd fish. I have no need to brag and claim social ladder rung in consversation..

When I have had “power” I have not wielded it. Nor have I taken advantage of that power when I might have. Being a young man with a paper share value of £ 2 million has an impact on knicker elastic. I feel pretty sure in my self that I have been tempted by power and come out the other side relatively unscathed. I did not turn into a power crazed arsehole.

I keep coming back to a perception that somehow, I do not fit what others expect.

I do not see others as better than, higher than me. Nor do I see others as beneath me. I am no better. I may be more experienced and intelligent, but I am not above. It is a kind of egalitarianism which can make people uncomfortable. There are some who have deferred to me and others who are perennially spoiling for a fight as if to assert position in pecking order. A fight I have no interest in partaking in. It has been my perception that people who have thus engaged have failed to learn whatever it is that I might have taught them. The immediacy of perceived status and competition for it has blinded them. Some people want to bring me down, teach me a lesson.

Perhaps the overarching weirdness in this life has been the number of people who want to tell me something, argue the toss, try to convince me they are right and otherwise teach me.

“That’ll learn ‘im!”

It remains an unsolved mystery as to how and why others feel the burning pressing need to educate me.

Because I do not have strong demands or wants, I have been pliable and subject to manipulation. I rarely have an agenda in contrast to many.

On occasion people have looked to me to provide a lead, only later to undermine me when that lead has not been to their liking. I have come around to the idea that I like planning and envisioning way more than execution. I am certain that I am not cut out to provide any ongoing leadership role in a socio-political sense because I cannot be bothered with the social “niceties” and tedious transactional negotiations. I am not a sycophant nor am I prone to sycophancy. In terms of leadership, I can sustain that for very short terms only. Sooner or later its will go pear shaped because I am unwilling to play the “normal” games.

Quite how and why I was born with this set of self-perceptions may be due to prior incarnations, prior learned inclinations. The more I have meditated the less impressed with socio-political status and imagined kudos I become. The whole notion of “advancement” “position” and social rank escapes me. Even though for others I once had a little.

As far as I can tell my beingness and how I am interpreted by others do not match. There is nothing I can do about that. I have to reel myself in because if I let it go, fully, people might struggle.

I am socially a bit of an oddball. At first pass I seem OK, normal-ish. There is some blurring where social perception and shoe-horn expectation does not fit. My behaviour has been “status” inappropriate not in a criminal way, rather something which is mildly unsettling for others.

I don’t fit the social conditioned mould as well as a I might.

Genetic Counsellors and Cans of Worms

I learned a new phrase today “genetic counsellor”. Apparently, at least in Canada, such things exist. I have been recommended to have the HFE gene test to see if I have hereditary haemochromatosis (HH). This for completion. Back in 1994 I visited this high haemoglobin “space” and was bled regularly at St Thomas’. Retrospect suggests that I may have had an ongoing health condition which was missed back then.

They took an armful each time. 

This HFE mutation would provide a benign explanation for my raised haem and ferritin levels. My ferritin levels have been increasing with time over the last four years. I don’t really have many of the symptoms associated with the genetic disease. It is linked with the less benign polycythaemia. Which would require a wider more substantive gene panel test, so-called molecular oncology. The authorisation for this testing is probably reserved for specialists. Iron overload is not without consequences. It can “cause” cancer or be correlated with it. Medical literature often blurs correlation with cause.

The problem with all this new-fangled gene testing is that it can open a can of worms

Needless to say, the genetics are complex.

I would be a mutant of sorts…

The next stages are Iron MRI and/or liver biopsy. The latter does not sound like much fun!!

Liver disease is possible maybe even likely, but I am largely asymptomatic. My enzyme work was ok.

—————————-

The next stage of inquiry would be to look for myeloproliferative neoplasms which are rare, not lottery winning rare, but rare enough. Search of JAK 2 and other related things starts increasing the price. JAK 2 can mutate.

—————

Mutations in JAK2 have been implicated in polycythemia vera, essential thrombocythemia, and myelofibrosis as well as other myeloproliferative disorders. This mutation (V617F), a change of valine to phenylalanine at the 617 position, appears to render hematopoietic cells more sensitive to growth factors such as erythropoietin and thrombopoietin, because the receptors for these growth factors require JAK2 for signal transduction. JAK2 mutation, when demonstrable, is one of the methods of diagnosing polycythemia vera.”

————————

The thing is looking closely at most people my age the chances are that you will find something which has gone wrong.

The French sites suggest that some kind of follow up is warranted because of my Iron status.

Not sure what if anything the GP will recommend….

The osteoporosis situation seems simpler to treat with some pills, supplements and vitamins. But could have an Iron cause.

Given that the haemoglobin situation has been ongoing for, perhaps, thirty years it seems unlikely that any new unpleasant things have suddenly taken hold. But the ferritin level has doubled since 2021.

There is part of me that thinks that I just let this all drop…The osteoporosis might have enabled the fracture of my femoral neck six years ago. I have perhaps been living with it since. Simple answer is to not fall over.

A few more pills is no big deal however…

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hereditary haemochromatosis – regularly being bled.

Not HH – Iron MRI / Liver biopsy —

Liver disease – it depends on what – treatments in absence of virus are usually diet and no booze.

Something fancy and esoteric – myeloproliferative neoplasms – massive complex can of worms

The French sites suggest that some kind of follow up is warranted because of my Iron status.

What is inside the can…?