Muse once sang about the “Thoughts of a Dieing Atheist”. Well this is kind of like that, except more vulgar.
09/02/2007
I’ve just got out of hospital after being rushed in on wednesday night, unable to breathe. Apparently the sniffling cold I had on monday had lead to a primary and secondary chest infection, and I was showing the first signs of smoking related breathing difficulties.
Cue lecture and scare tactics from Doctor.
After having blood cultures, blood samples, blood pressure, blood sugar, blood oxygen, heartrate, more blood samples, and the same damn 20 questions asked by 5 different staff members, I was finally allowed to try and get some rest at 1.30am.
I was woken up at 6.30am for more blood pressure and blood oxygen and heartrate tests. Oh, and those bloody 20 questions again.
Breakfast was at 8.00, and I then spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep, periodically being woken up so they could check my (yes, you guessed it) blood pressure, blood oxygen and heartrate.
Later on in the day, a Respiratory Nurse came and talked to me, asked lots of questions checked results from tests and summarily declared I had asthma. Asthma that in 19 years had failed to surface in any serious way. This kind of confused me. I re-iterated that I was a smoker, and went out drinking at least once a week, and surely my coughing, wheezing, shortness of breath after exercise and tightening of chest were all due to that, rather than some ailment that usually shows up in the early years of life rather than 19 years in, and coincidentally after just over 4 years of smoking 20 cigarettes a day.
Nope. It was definitely asthma.
Cue stupid amounts of drugs being given to me and the next 3 months of my life being mapped around the specific times to take said drugs.
I was kept in another night (fortunately this time they allowed my mother to bring some clothes and reading material to keep me fresh and occupied), with some of my mates popping in to point and laugh at me (don’t worry, it didn’t hurt my feelings. I’d have done the exact same thing) and bringing in some grapes. Because it’s the law that everyone in hospital needs a bunch of grapes. Apparently.
I finally got out this morning, feeling a lot better, but still slightly short of breath when I moved about. I’ve got quite a lot of work to catch up on, but (un)fortunately I’m confined to indoors, so don’t really have an excuse not to get on with it.
I’m also determined to be deemed well enough to play Rugby next Saturday. Even if I have to hold the Doctor at gunpoint*.
Fucking asthma.
*Chances of me following through with this threat are minimal.
01/02/2007
I haven’t written anything for the last week. It seems that attending College, working at a Pub, working at a Restaurante, playing Rugby for two teams, and running a business are rather time demanding.
Right now, sleep is overrated.
24/01/2007
The Smoking Ban comes into effect in July. Then, when 40% of the pubs close down as a direct result, the Government will suddenly realise that half of their income came from excise duties on beer and cigarettes, and will overturn the ban.
23/01/2007
I’d love to see the Government’s bill for underpants. They’re always shitting themselves about offending some minority group.
22/01/2007
Reading the paper whilst on a relatively quiet shift at the pub, I noticed a few things. First off, according to psychologists research, January 22nd is known as “Gloomsday” and is the day most likely in the year that you will show signs of the blues and depression. I also read my star sign “Pisces” in the Daily Star. It read: “Uranus in Pisces is now challenged by Jupiter, and some big battles lie ahead this week. There may be some mud-slinging today for a starter.”
Now I’m not one to follow star signs much, but I feel I should uphold this one. So begin the mud-slinging.
A Muslim WPC refuses to shake Met Chief’s Sir Ian Blair’s hand at the passing out parade on “religious grounds”. Apparently she can’t shake the hand of a stranger of the opposite sex. How the fuck is she supposed to arrest male offenders then? Get a fucking grip woman, and stop abusing the Government’s timid PC rules.
American size zero in women’s clothes is our size four. About says it all really.
A Woman driver took 23 years to pass her test (250 lesson, 10 instructors). She then wrote “Girls Guide to Losing Your L-Plates.” Need I say more?
I then noticed in the Daily Express that Justin Toper, the same guy who did the star signs in the Star, had done them in the Express. Mine was exactly the same except for one addage: “Have a bucket ready – you’ll want to throw up.” And bugger me I did when I saw Jade Goody’s pig face on the front page, crying her eyes out. It claims she’s on the brink of suicide after getting slagged off for her racists remarks about Shilpa Poppadom…err Shetty. All I can say, Jade, is do it and put us out of our misery!
21/01/2007
Scarborough Council gets sued for false advertisement after advertising holidays to “Sunny” Scarborough.
20/01/2007
Iraq hung Saddam Hussein for “crimes against humanity.” I reckon we should follow their example. I mean, just think – no more snivelling Tony Blair, no more big mouthed Cherie Blair, no more lazy John Prescott or money-grabbing Gordon Brown. And no more god damn Jade Goody.
19/01/2007
L.A. Galaxy gave David Beckham a $128 million 5 year contract. It’s nice to know that football is still all about the love of the game, rather than commercial power, isn’t it?
