the last resort

"Although the outcome that we had hoped for did not materialise, I realized the dangers attendant upon such an operation, and I am satisfied that you did all within your power in a difficult situation. While no one could fortell the extent of the mental improvement had she lived, I think that it is providential that she should be taken as she was rather than, without the chance of an operation, that she should continue year afer year to suffer the mental agony which for so long had been her lot."

from Jack D. Pressman, Last Resort: Psychosurgery and the Limits of Medicine (1998)

Gobbolino, the witch's cat

I have just adopted a 5-week-old kitten. He's black with a bit of a white belly and four white paws. He is tiny and adorable.

He was found by a friend of a friend, who posted a photo of him on Twitter. As soon as I saw him, I was reminded of this song I used to sing as a little girl in music class. Loki is not quite Gobbolino: he does have bright blue eyes and is black, but, he has three more white paws and as much as I'd like to, I don't have magic.

The song is based on a story about a witch's cat who does not like his humble beginnings, and leaves his sister Sootica to embark on a life of adventure. He comes unstuck though, and eventually returns to the farm that he first left and becomes a kitchen cat, as he started. His black coat has faded to an "unrecognisable tabby" which is another similarity, because Loki is actually a black tabby, not "black all over".


Gobbolino, the witch’s cat

One fine night in a witch’s cavern,
Two kittens rolled on to the floor;
One, called Sootica, was black all over,
The other, Gobbolino, had one white paw.

Who’ll give a home to a kitten?
Who’ll give a home to a cat?
Gobbolino you may call me;
I want just a fire and a mat.

One white paw and a sheen of tabby,
Two lovely eyes not green but blue,
None of the witches would take this kitten …
And neither did his mother know what to do.

Then one day, when the sun was shining,
Gobbolino found he was all alone.
The witch had gone a deserted him forever,
So Gobbolino washed himself, then he left home.


the lyrics end here but I think that's a fault of the website I found them on... does anyone know the rest?

Joseph Brearley 1909-1977 by Harold Pinter

Dear Joe, I’d like to walk with you
From Clapton Pond to Stamford Hill
And on,
Through Manor House to Finsbury Park,
And back,
On the dead 653 trolleybus,
To Clapton Pond,
And walk across the shadows on to Hackney Downs,
And stop by the old bandstand,
You tall in moonlight,
And the quick shadow in which it persists.

You’re gone. I’m at your side,
Walking with you from Clapton Pond to Finsbury Park,
And on, and on.

1977, Teacher of English

Prophet and Loss

As it kicked in,

The stray psilocybin

In the Boeuf Bourgignon,

He said,

"I’ve an urge,

Next market day,

To kick it all over.

I don’t know why,

I just feel

It’s the root

Of all our unease."

Then stripped to the waist

He tore up the street

Screaming,

"England is dying,"

'Til they took him away.

Paul Maddocks (1969 - 2007)

on the med

i've created a Tumblr for the photos of the medication i'm taking, it's here if you want to see all the #25aday photos together, just click on the photo below.

the title is actually a bit of a misnomer now, because as of this week i'm no longer taking two ibuprofen tablets and two paracetamol four times a day (which, if you can do simple multiplication, is of course, the bulk of the 25 tablets i've been taking).

i'm unconvinced that paracetamol and ibuprofen have ever given me much pain relief. i do mean to look into the genetic differences that cause people to be non-responders to these two different types of painkiller (ibuprofen is a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug, or NSAID). i sprained my ankle two weeks ago and it's still painful to walk on, so it will be interesting to see if it feels any different today, having been off this combination for more than 24 hours.

i've also run out of codeine tablets, and fortunately, my back is a lot better so i'm not too worried about that.

the one thing that has made a big difference to my back problem is a brilliant physiotherapist who understands and treats the problem not as an acute injury or complaint, but as a whole body problem triggered by the way i move, sit and stand. Hannah Maxey at Complete Physio agrees that it's very likely that due to repeated problems with the hamstrings i injured when i was thirteen, i'm not bending my knees enough and moving in such a way that puts strain on the small, weak muscles in my back and buttocks - such as the piriformis - rather than the strong gluteus. hence the horrible sciatic nerve pinching that's been going on - this nerve runs straight along (or sometimes through) the piriformis, so if that muscle is inflammed, it irritates the nerve, which causes this horrible electrical burning sensation down my left leg.

it's not 100% better, i still get a lot of back soreness and i'm still taking pregabalin twice a day to reduce the nerve, or neuropathic, pain. but i'm getting there and finally on the mend.

drugs

Last week I was prescribed pregabalin, a drug that targets nerve, or "neuropathic" pain. This is intended to mask my sciatica, a condition that makes my left leg feel like there's a very long, fine saw running up and down the outside of my hip, thigh, calf and ankle. The prescription takes the total number of pills and tablets I take to 25. Every day.

I am going to photograph the tablets I take in interesting settings, and post them on Instagram, as a little insight into and record of my painful life.

My Jubilympics thoughts

My thoughts on the Jubilee have been a little clouded until today, when I saw this tweet by Doug Segal. I think the monarchy is outdated, but with the exception of a few, they aren't bad people. I don't believe in subservience, but I strongly believe in charity, and this is where the Royals come through. During the build up to this weekend, I've been affectionately using the hashtag #jubilympics, a brilliant portmanteau used by the equally brilliant Jessica Hynes's character in the spoof Olympics documentary Twenty Twelve.

I am hugely disappointed about London 2012. Initially, as a sports fan, I was excited about the "greatest show on Earth"coming to my home city. But its lack of respect for Londoners, the people who run the city, has snubbed this excitement out. Not to mention the massive overspend, lack of achieving its aims, and over-saturation of sports-themed activities in my field of work. I'll still watch The Games, as I enjoy observing the limits and drive of the human body and spirit, to see people who have dedicated their lives to one thing.

And that is what The Queen has done. She was born into a tradition, an institution, that has been around for centuries. Her religion and her upbringing teaches that she was chosen by God to be born into this privileged life, to one day rule the waves. To condemn that is to be a little intolerant of religious beliefs, I feel. I'm no monarchist, and I believe Christianity (and other organised religion) is an ancient way to understand the world and control society that science and democracy has made irrelevant. It does have some benefits, though, particularly with regard to community and personal relationships, which I've blogged about here. The Queen exists, and judging by her robust health, she's not going away anytime soon. When she does, I hope she will be succeed by her grandson, a man who appears humble, kind and considerate, dedicated to his wife and a job that saves people's lives, making use of the skills he was fortunate enough to learn due to his high status.

As the Church has community benefits, so does the Jubilee. Look at all the communal celebrations. People from different houses in different roads with the different backgrounds and origins and ideas coming together on the streets to share food, drink and laughter. Look at all the beautiful public expressions of creativity and humour. I've particularly enjoyed @Queen_UK's live-tweeting of her Jubilee experience and the tens of comedians (professional and wannabe) on Twitter taking the piss out of Queenie and her Jubblies.

By all means roll your eyes at the naff bunting and the faux national pride. I don't think the UK deserves this pride. Its government is a farce, society is still blighted by racism and poverty, and the England football team is really pretty crap. Go have a picnic with your colleagues. Have a Republican party! The Jubilee is an excuse to get out there and have some fun in whatever way you want, and if you want, see an elderly couple who are so clearly just as in love as the day they met. Do not waste your energy on being negative, angry or upset about something you cannot change. If you want to use that energy: start a revolution.

on a personal tangent: i've recently had to accept that the man i adored does not want to talk to me or see me anymore. for weeks i tried to change this: i texted and called and even went to see him in places i'd knew he would be. if this sounds "crazy", well, yes: i was prescribed anti-depressants earlier this year. but as i say above, you cannot change something immovable, and now i have started to come to terms with this, i am a small bit happier. i know that he no longer has to deal with me and i expect he feels better for that, which makes me feel better. i am no longer fighting and wasting my energy on something that is futile. i stil miss him every single day of my life but at least it's now a life i want to live.