In defence of my already substantial reputation as being rather predictable in bailing on social events, I must state immediately my reason was that my grandfather had another stroke. I went into A&E with my father at 8pm where the next 8 hours would be the most entertaining and tragic (for other people) I have had in a long time:
The first few hours were worry filled; keeping granddad talking, busy, laughing so as to not get down with having spent an already 8 hours on a trolley in an emergency department that was full of screaming babies and nutcases. I read snippets of factual stories from FOCUS, told stories of what I had been up to in recent times, got him chatting about olden times and his first car, and we whiled away the time quite nicely. Cue clock chiming midnight.
Into the "interview room" arrives a young woman screaming the department down, saying something about the devil. With her are two gardai, and she has to be forcibly restrained by 3 of the hospital security guys. She throws furniture around, tries to bite security, is in some sort of hallucination filled state and causing a general ruckus. All in all it is highly entertaining to the bored patients and relatives outside, albeit extremely tragic. Time moves on and the woman remains in that state, more drug induced issues present themselves in new patients: The man who has taken "LSD" and wanders around in his sunglasses telling everyone to "get out of (his) way", and the woman who has overdosed on 140 tablets even though she only had an absolute possible of 28 on her and later revealed she took 8.
As the night progressed the hallucinating paranoid woman was allowed into the general A&E cubicle area where we all learned about the dangerous devil she could see - he was red with blue eyes. For a large portion of the night he seemed to be located somewhere behind me, as that was where she spent a significant amount of time pointing at. There was a short spell of time where the devil changed format and took the form of "the nurse in blue with the hair", he did change back to his devil form again though. All my grandfather could do was repeat "It's crazy" over and over as he tried to get his old head round the state of the world today, a world that was evidently drastically different to the one in which he grew up.
I grew bored again when all three of the tragically entertaining patients were sedated and fell asleep. My attention was once again drawn to the stethoscope that had sat enticingly on the counter top right in front of me. I had been looking at it for near on 4 hours now, but there was never any opportunity to nab it to play with it. I had long since gotten bored of the nerve hammer I was playing with, testing my father and grandfather's reflexes, as well as my own, coming to the conclusion we were all perfect, so instead I distracted myself with thinking of the various diseases I might have and not be aware of. Sitting there I figured if I already had a history of Henoch Schoenlien, a recurring brain tumour, had a visible ganglion on my wrist and an ongoing arthritic knee... there were surely other things I could have (I have since diagnosed myself with temporomandibular joint disorder because of my negatively progressing locked jaw)... I quickly got bored of that game because really without google I could not accurately diagnose anything, and as much fun as the drawers of instruments and tubes were, they did not help with that. Just when I had given up hope and my father had promised to buy me a stethoscope for my birthday, did an opportunity present itself. Cool as a cucumber I leaned against the desk and sneakily nabbed it. Back to the cubicle I spent the next twenty minutes listening to my heart and my gurgling stomach. However it was now 2.30am and I was getting delerious.
Eventually the doctor arrived at 3am, the doctor who had been sitting behind the desk doing paperwork for the previous 2 hours without moving. The desk in front of us. After a long series of tests and questions, we were moved to a ward where at 4am we bid my grandfather goodnight and went home to bed.
I should add at the stage that my grandfather is still in hospital, but in great spirits!
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tonight I survived a post-apocalyptic zombie filled waste land.
My father rang home tonight to say the area had been cordoned off by the police, that there were sirens everywhere and that instead of coming home on break, he was going back into work. My mother was intrigued so she persuaded me with my wet hair to change into day-clothes and go check it out. It was like a scene from the apocalypse when I went outside, I have never seen the area so eerily quiet - not a single car or person was in sight. I wandered down the middle of the road toward the hill, not a soul around, not a sound, and I contemplated all of the Zombie survival quizzes I had taken and thought of fallen London (clearly I have been playing way too many games on the internet). As I walked on I saw the barrier behind me in the distance blocking one route into the area, as I continued farther toward the hill I saw another barrier stopping access from that side: It was all so strange. I wandered half way down the hill, checking for zombie's on the way, and was met with nothing. I spied the towering walls convinced I was being watched; if it wasn't zombies then it had to be aliens surely. Where was everyone? And where were these sirens my father had mentioned along with cars, beeping, and arguing amongst the grid-locked drivers? This wasn't the scene of mayhem I had expected to see, this was the polar opposite - a zombie movie. I thought about the filming of it and how perfect the setting was, but I couldn't escape the paranoia that after all the Oscar-winning performances I have seen, that this really was it.
Nothing was happening on the hill so I walked back up in the other direction to the other barrier. I could hear this dull drilling noise, the only noise on the road. Inside houses people were standing at windows talking, looking out and generally going about their business, completely oblivious to the fact that right outside their front doors I was walking through what could well be a post apocalyptic zombie waste land. I kept walking down the middle of the road and saw an elderly couple - the man stared at me so intently I genuinely entertained the thought that maybe it was me, maybe I was the zombie , but I kept walking, he eerily stared at me as I kept walking and he and his wife got into their car - the only other sound outside besides that low drilling noise. This scene was getting stranger by the minute. The couple kept watching me as I walked, not because I was in their way walking down the middle of the road on a freezing night in hobo clothing with wet hair, but either because I was looking like a zombie, or because I was staring at them like they were the walking undead. I kept walking following the sound of the drilling and the couple eventually drove off - Can zombie's drive cars? Yes they can. Mistake number one would be to assume they cannot. I could at this stage see people, high viz jackets, a drill and some panic. I immediately thought dead body, after all this area is somewhat synonymous with various crime boss types from over the years. I figured the people I could see weren't zombies, from where I was standing they seemed very much alive. Maybe mistake number two, but I kept walking anyway intrigued.
There were 4 of them standing around a hole. No sirens, no police, no fire brigade, no army, no bomb squad and no dead people... Just 4 council workers drilling. It was then I saw it; the scene that had caused so much speculation about a zombie filled post apocalyptic waste land; the thing that had seen sirens and a police presence at the only other entrance to the area not 30 minutes previous; the very speculative thing that had caused my mother to send me with my wet hair and hobo clothes out into the freezing night on my own to investigate: A burst sewer pipe. I thought maybe there was a sewer monster, maybe there was a... And then I thought, "Fuck it, I'm going home".
Nothing was happening on the hill so I walked back up in the other direction to the other barrier. I could hear this dull drilling noise, the only noise on the road. Inside houses people were standing at windows talking, looking out and generally going about their business, completely oblivious to the fact that right outside their front doors I was walking through what could well be a post apocalyptic zombie waste land. I kept walking down the middle of the road and saw an elderly couple - the man stared at me so intently I genuinely entertained the thought that maybe it was me, maybe I was the zombie , but I kept walking, he eerily stared at me as I kept walking and he and his wife got into their car - the only other sound outside besides that low drilling noise. This scene was getting stranger by the minute. The couple kept watching me as I walked, not because I was in their way walking down the middle of the road on a freezing night in hobo clothing with wet hair, but either because I was looking like a zombie, or because I was staring at them like they were the walking undead. I kept walking following the sound of the drilling and the couple eventually drove off - Can zombie's drive cars? Yes they can. Mistake number one would be to assume they cannot. I could at this stage see people, high viz jackets, a drill and some panic. I immediately thought dead body, after all this area is somewhat synonymous with various crime boss types from over the years. I figured the people I could see weren't zombies, from where I was standing they seemed very much alive. Maybe mistake number two, but I kept walking anyway intrigued.
There were 4 of them standing around a hole. No sirens, no police, no fire brigade, no army, no bomb squad and no dead people... Just 4 council workers drilling. It was then I saw it; the scene that had caused so much speculation about a zombie filled post apocalyptic waste land; the thing that had seen sirens and a police presence at the only other entrance to the area not 30 minutes previous; the very speculative thing that had caused my mother to send me with my wet hair and hobo clothes out into the freezing night on my own to investigate: A burst sewer pipe. I thought maybe there was a sewer monster, maybe there was a... And then I thought, "Fuck it, I'm going home".
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Calling your inner word geek...
I suck at daily posting. Instead of a video today I'm going to share something to satisfy the inner word geek in everyone!
The Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational asks readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are some winners:
1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words:
1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach. -
4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.
7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokémon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism, gn. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
The Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational asks readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are some winners:
1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words:
1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach. -
4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.
7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokémon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism, gn. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Day 3 - Fail.
I blame the fact that the floods happened. I had photos, I wanted to share photos, and well everyone was online, on facebook - so how do I communicate with people through this disaster if not through facebook? So I failed. And I am disgusted. 3 days is an awful fail. I will try again though, especially as I am away this week in Rome!
In the mean time water is rising, winds are reaching gale force 9 and there's a long night ahead. I wish I had scrabble.
In the mean time water is rising, winds are reaching gale force 9 and there's a long night ahead. I wish I had scrabble.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Social networking experiment - Day 2 - and possible apartment fire
So I'm on day 2. Initial reaction when I came into work yesterday was to check my gmail, check facebook and I felt a surge of panic, so I had to tweet about it - SHOCK - Twitter was down for maintenance: What would I do? How would I let people know immediately in that minute the panic I was feeling? I couldn't, so I made a coffee. It took a while to feel slightly calmer, and only because twitter came back up, and I had a blog to maintain.
Today, I am much more calm. I spent a while reading articles last night about facebook and the yuppie generation (yes, instead of being on it, I read about it) and felt slightly smug at being out of it - don't get me wrong, I'm a recovering addict so the temptation to get sucked back in is still there, my account is still "temporarily deactivated". I reckon I'll make the leap though. I've successfully given up cigarettes and alcohol before. It did occur to me, will I miss scial events, parties, birthdays etc.? Probably, and I'll cross that bridge when the time comes! For now I feel smug that I'm out of it, and better for having to make the effor to ask people how they're doing and not read it in the newsfeed.
In other news I got a call this morning:
"Lorna, we eh think your apartment might be on fire, can we take a look? There's smoke and the alarm is going off"
Ten minutes later:
"There's no fire in your apartment, or upstairs, so eh we don't really know what's going on. I'll keep you posted."
Awesome.
I am so not renewing my lease.
Today, I am much more calm. I spent a while reading articles last night about facebook and the yuppie generation (yes, instead of being on it, I read about it) and felt slightly smug at being out of it - don't get me wrong, I'm a recovering addict so the temptation to get sucked back in is still there, my account is still "temporarily deactivated". I reckon I'll make the leap though. I've successfully given up cigarettes and alcohol before. It did occur to me, will I miss scial events, parties, birthdays etc.? Probably, and I'll cross that bridge when the time comes! For now I feel smug that I'm out of it, and better for having to make the effor to ask people how they're doing and not read it in the newsfeed.
In other news I got a call this morning:
"Lorna, we eh think your apartment might be on fire, can we take a look? There's smoke and the alarm is going off"
Ten minutes later:
"There's no fire in your apartment, or upstairs, so eh we don't really know what's going on. I'll keep you posted."
Awesome.
I am so not renewing my lease.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Social networking experiment: Day 1
Facebook scares me. I am definitely an addict, that I know. Tonight I ran out of things to watch on my laptop, I don't have a tv and so I passed 1 hour perusing the facebook news feed, 1 whole wasted hour that I could have spent reading, or writing, or playing music. Did I learn anything? No, I really did not. I have facebook, twitter, gmail, googlewave, msn, aim, ning, myspace and youtube accounts... I wholeheartedly embrace technological advancement, I really do, but I do not need that many social networking sites; it's not healthy! So tonight I start the experiment: I am going to see how long I can go using just my chat applications, twitter account and blog tools. The social networking sites are the culprits here for my time-wasting.
It will be hard I know. As I was trying to deactivate my account, facebook listed the 165 people who would miss me, and it told me they would miss me, by displaying their pictures with "x will miss you" above them. Guilting me into staying; the horror of 165 people I definitely do not speak to on a daily basis missing my ever so valuable posts on my hourly antics? I really don't think so... and should that be the case, they can call me, email me, or visit me.
So now I have no facebook and no television. It doesn't make me a hippie, it just makes me someone who is trying desperately to retain some ability to "plug out" before our generation becomes entirely consumed by social networking, before we completely forget how to interact on a human face-to-face level, and before I wake up one day and realise that instead of looking at the beauty on the streets outside, I have whiled away my existence looking at pictures online of said beauty. It's already there. My friends are outside. I can actually touch them. I can't remember the last time I had a hug, a proper hug, isn't that sad? And that, is a wake up call to plug out if ever I needed one. So here I go. Day one.
It will be hard I know. As I was trying to deactivate my account, facebook listed the 165 people who would miss me, and it told me they would miss me, by displaying their pictures with "x will miss you" above them. Guilting me into staying; the horror of 165 people I definitely do not speak to on a daily basis missing my ever so valuable posts on my hourly antics? I really don't think so... and should that be the case, they can call me, email me, or visit me.
So now I have no facebook and no television. It doesn't make me a hippie, it just makes me someone who is trying desperately to retain some ability to "plug out" before our generation becomes entirely consumed by social networking, before we completely forget how to interact on a human face-to-face level, and before I wake up one day and realise that instead of looking at the beauty on the streets outside, I have whiled away my existence looking at pictures online of said beauty. It's already there. My friends are outside. I can actually touch them. I can't remember the last time I had a hug, a proper hug, isn't that sad? And that, is a wake up call to plug out if ever I needed one. So here I go. Day one.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
If you read this, do something.
I met a lovely man on my way to work this morning; Cameron. The phrase that sticks out from our conversation is "It's a shit life": Cameron is homeless, but even so, was full of chat and that statement was all he would say about it; everything else was about the day itself.
Saturday night myself and my brother were walking around the city - on St patricks bridge we encountered 2 homeless men, one of whom was doing a big of a dance up to people to get money for him and his friend. He danced up to us and said "I'm sorry lads, I know I'm being a bit cheeky, but I have to be these days", and what he said resonated deeply: The increase in the volume of homelessness means begging has turned into a competition... what's that age old saying? "The richer get richer while the poor get poorer"... or 'the rich get meaner while the poor are forced to become more enterprising'. On the opposite side of the bridge was another homeless man (making 3 on the one bridge at 9.30pm) who was taking nothing in... not entertaining enough next to the other two. On we walked towards Emmett place and saw a mother and her child being given €20 in two tens by a passing man. The woman wouldn't take it, insisting it wasn't fair and she would only take €10; pride kicked in, which was heartbreaking to see.
A few weeks back my friend and I were heading out for a dance and my friend stopped to speak to a woman sitting outside Londis on Bridge Street - she was full of the joys and we chatted about all sorts. I found out afterward that my friend had been without his wallet drunk in town one night, and she, seeing him in this way, insisted on giving him €5 to get a taxi home... she had no money, and gave him all she had to get home safely. So now he stops every time he sees her and has developed quite a good relationship with her: She lost her son to suicide 21 years ago, turned to drink and subsequently lost everything.
For the last elections a local TD (and boy do I wish I could remember which one now) wrote an article in the Echo complaining about his posters being stolen. That same day I was walking across the bridge by the Clarion and in the alcove just off the bridge were those posters - they were being used as tents/shelter by homeless people. If I had a camera with me I would have sent pictures into that politician to make him shut up about a few missing election posters.
I'm not perfect, far from it, but I do what I can the same as everyone else I know, but it's not just about tossing a few coins at people (though that helps), they are exactly like you and me, but they fell down along the way, so sometimes a chat and a cup of coffee/cigarette is better. It's hard to write this without sounding somewhat self righteous and morally superior, and I'm really not, I am as guilty as anyone of putting my head down and refusing to see what is in front of me. Everyone is going on and on about the recession, but really we have absolutely no idea what it is like. It is coming up to Christmas, and people are more charitable at Christmas which is great, but it's not enough. I cannot judge people, but I ask that maybe as well as doing what you do to help, stop for a chat, feel your heart break after that conversation, and then say it to someone else to stop and do the same. Maybe, just maybe we'll start something bigger than what we are already doing and heighten awareness with those doing nothing.
They are the same as you and me, they've just had some rotten luck.
Saturday night myself and my brother were walking around the city - on St patricks bridge we encountered 2 homeless men, one of whom was doing a big of a dance up to people to get money for him and his friend. He danced up to us and said "I'm sorry lads, I know I'm being a bit cheeky, but I have to be these days", and what he said resonated deeply: The increase in the volume of homelessness means begging has turned into a competition... what's that age old saying? "The richer get richer while the poor get poorer"... or 'the rich get meaner while the poor are forced to become more enterprising'. On the opposite side of the bridge was another homeless man (making 3 on the one bridge at 9.30pm) who was taking nothing in... not entertaining enough next to the other two. On we walked towards Emmett place and saw a mother and her child being given €20 in two tens by a passing man. The woman wouldn't take it, insisting it wasn't fair and she would only take €10; pride kicked in, which was heartbreaking to see.
A few weeks back my friend and I were heading out for a dance and my friend stopped to speak to a woman sitting outside Londis on Bridge Street - she was full of the joys and we chatted about all sorts. I found out afterward that my friend had been without his wallet drunk in town one night, and she, seeing him in this way, insisted on giving him €5 to get a taxi home... she had no money, and gave him all she had to get home safely. So now he stops every time he sees her and has developed quite a good relationship with her: She lost her son to suicide 21 years ago, turned to drink and subsequently lost everything.
For the last elections a local TD (and boy do I wish I could remember which one now) wrote an article in the Echo complaining about his posters being stolen. That same day I was walking across the bridge by the Clarion and in the alcove just off the bridge were those posters - they were being used as tents/shelter by homeless people. If I had a camera with me I would have sent pictures into that politician to make him shut up about a few missing election posters.
I'm not perfect, far from it, but I do what I can the same as everyone else I know, but it's not just about tossing a few coins at people (though that helps), they are exactly like you and me, but they fell down along the way, so sometimes a chat and a cup of coffee/cigarette is better. It's hard to write this without sounding somewhat self righteous and morally superior, and I'm really not, I am as guilty as anyone of putting my head down and refusing to see what is in front of me. Everyone is going on and on about the recession, but really we have absolutely no idea what it is like. It is coming up to Christmas, and people are more charitable at Christmas which is great, but it's not enough. I cannot judge people, but I ask that maybe as well as doing what you do to help, stop for a chat, feel your heart break after that conversation, and then say it to someone else to stop and do the same. Maybe, just maybe we'll start something bigger than what we are already doing and heighten awareness with those doing nothing.
They are the same as you and me, they've just had some rotten luck.
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