Welcome to the end of being alone inside your mind tethered to another and you’re worried all the time. You always knew the melody but you never heard it rhyme (Brandi Carlile – ‘The Mother’)

And so dear listener, technically I have now been deemed fit to return to work but I had planned to be working these last few days and then enjoy being off the rota and taking TOIL (Time off in Lieu) and not doing much. I’m bored but better and desperate to get back out there….you know what I mean. ):

Indeed uni-Sharon works in the same kinda field and a recent msg from her read, ‘I’ll be in touch when thugs calm down.’ I was halfway into my car to go and help out when the correction came through; ‘things, I mean things!’

So, I have seen much of the NHS on TV as well as experiencing it in the really nice Maryhill Health Centre;

I would like to congratulate j, the blog’s favourite Gran on becoming a Gran again (and I may have more on a similar story in a couple of weeks or so but subject to the usual lack of information); 😀 😀 😀

and I listened to someone else describing hospitals as really ‘depressing places’.

At one point the detailed planning for this blog (a post-it) read ‘hosipta spevial’ which loosely translates as ‘hospital special’. But other things have happened since.

So all I’ll say is that in my only in-patient experience (the ten days or so after the Cold Turkey weekend) I ate properly with three meals a day for the first time in years; was shown how to walk (as my balance had been, and still is, a wee bit affected) on the backstairs of Gartnavel by two brilliant and very patient female physios; and was given two pairs of Gartnavel pyjamas to take away with me by one of the porters/male attendants with the words, ‘I don’t want ever to see you fu*king back in here ever again.’ I suspect that he believed that my alcohol dependency was a behaviour and not a disease. But I never wanted to go back either. And I haven’t since. 🙂

The pyjamas were given away recently unworn as I don’t wear pyjamas; tbh, I don’t wear anything most of the time……..Thankfully I don’t sleep walk.

(Like many people, I keep a notepad by my bed. It can help sleep patterns. If you’re really bad with sleep issues, then write the problem down on the pad, scrumple it up and throw it away. The problem won’t go away but it’s now far enough away not to cause you problems until you pick it up in the morning……the things you learn working in a rehab……..but in my basically alcoholic gap year my bad writing and my addled brain made it virtually impossible to understand the next morning what had been troubling me…..’Scarlet Turkeys again’ was one)

And this week’s random Conversation of the Month took place in the Kibble Palace in the Botanic Gardens into which I had popped as it was snowy-raining and I wandered over to the leaflets bit.

‘Watch what you’re doing’, this man said to me.

‘What?’ I said back to him.

‘Oh, sorry,’ he said. ‘I thought you were my daughter.’

Thirty seconds later I saw him with his daughter. She looked about eleven with long black hair.

And why did I feel the need to tell my optician that I was getting my hair cut the next day? Y’see I had had blurred vision a couple of times the day after I went back to work so I decided to get my eyes checked and they’re fine.  I think it was ‘cos I had to keep pushing my hair behind my hair to get those strange goggles on but the thing I really like is when you get the peripheral vision test. That’s the one when you see a flash and you have to press a button on a controller and it was so like playing early Space Invaders. I was bigly good.

And finally, I have tried to explain to people that one of the reasons I turned so much to alcohol after mum passed away was the fact that I had lost contact, during her illness, with many groups of people and networks. The fact that the BBC had moved south of the river may or may not have been a bad thing. This graphic explains a wee bit more……it’s about five minutes long so please feel free to come back to it.


tioraidh, still wearing that badge and still keeping it simple.

iaint850, and all this free time I have just now looked so good four weeks ago BV – Before the Virus! I don’t even have things to talk about!

So I’m going to stop poking fun at the Donald. It’s too easy but his, and his team’s, pronouncements are becoming more and more frightening and further and further away from the truth.

Whereas this is so totally true. He said;

“I was a good student. I understand things. I comprehend very well, better than I think almost anybody”

Aye, Donald but how were you with Inter Library Loans? And how was your Harvard Referencing? And did you ever, like me, once get lost in the North Side of the UWS (Paisley) Library which I didn’t even know existed until about five weeks into the first term/block/trimester?

I couldn’t find the doors out which obviously were the doors in. I didn’t panic. I wandered round two or three times, pretending I knew what I was doing. And then I saw the multi-storey carpark, I kept it on my left and found the doors I wanted. I then plucked a copy of Der Spiegel from a rack and sat down as if nothing had ever happened. 🙂

So how did you really get on at Wharton, Donald and did you ever go the Library – or did you get someone to bring it to you? Write your essays for you? I get asked to do that but I’ve known too many students over the years who write their own. 🙂

Next week will be a Donald-free zone, I promise you!

And back to really important matters. I’d like to thank top snapper Zoe for this simple, but so appropriate, song to welcome a new lady baby into the world. 😀 😀



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