Nose-igation, or Coming to my Senses, Part II!!!

Having cystic fibrosis means I am more prone than most to sprouting nasal polyps; nasty little unplanned growths inside the nostril, shaped kinda like cauliflowers, tend to block things up and be a nuisance, especially if you enjoy breathing. No doubt, belonging at the end of this paragraph is some bereavement aimed at a hypothesised Divine Creator and Her/His ineffable sense of humour.

When I was twelve, I had surgery to pluck two of these things from both of my nostrils. With a mouth constantly sandpaper dry and a nose constantly spewing swamp-matter, I'd say I lead a pretty normal life style for those of that age. But apparently, breathing is important in the long term, and so is not having vegetables descending from your nose and invading your face, so out they came. Actually, it was less "plucked" and more "gnawed"; they actually used a tiny mechanical jaw contraption to chew and grind the Boltzmann brain matter into excavate-able mush. I suppose belonging at the end of this paragraph is some ironic sense of relief that technology has definitely advanced since 3000AD.

Anyway, the Relevant Bit: For a good while afterwards I could breath and smell again, great! But then I was diagnosed with yet more polyps again, which have been growing ever since, boo! However, this time round they've had the good courtesy of only disrupting my sense of smell this time, and relentless use of Weed Killer-esque nasal spray has kept them from growing out of control and terrorising villages, etc.

It was only as I told my nose-specialist doctor, in our most recent appointment (incidentally, the very same I had my ears cleared, yay), when I revealed that any semblance of a sense of smell I might have had has long since been relinquished, that he provided me with a solution.

The solution was this: one teaspoon sugar, one teaspoon salt and one teaspoon bicarbonate of soda mixed into boiled water left to cool. This then gets snorted up my nose. This is what is known as a nasal douche. Actually, I use a bottle to squirt it, but still.

If you ever wondered about the etymology of the term "douche" as an insult (and never thought to utilise the largest resource of information known to the history of anything on this planet to find such an answer, even though you're using it to read this), then this is very nearly, but not quite where it's origin lies.

The other thing I was given was military grade, weaponised, bio-hazardous, nose drops, which require you to kindly ignore the laws of physics regarding the force of gravity, so you can drop a droplet or two right up in the nostril to attack the invader directly.

And that wasn't over-zealous hyperbole on my part, it simply can't have been because I'm pretty sure that, as of the time of typing this post 1:00am Tuesday morning, even if only temporarily, it has worked. I know this, because the air smells funny, just ever so slightly, like a whiff of something fowl round the corner, but it doesn't go away, as if perhaps someone smeared something unpleasant just above your top lip. And it didn't used to smell of anything.

And also, I've just been to the toilet. I have been granted no luxury.

Stay tuned for next week folks, where I'll be having my eyes unblocked thereby revealing that everything I ever thought I saw has been a mental construct protecting me from the horror of the horribly evil Nasal Polyps, their threat was real after all. All that and more in: Coming to my Senses, Part III: Eye-migration Off Earth!

Technicolour Yawn

Brand spanking new blog where I post all my art has been running for a while now but I've only just got to a 'finished' state that I'm happy with so have a look!!!

Technicolour Yawn

(^^click there)

xx

Earrigation

There's literally no point to this blog other than the pun in the title, anyway yeah I've had blocked ears for weeks and today I got them cleared at the hospital and I'm well chuffed about it.

The process is called ear irrigation and it involves water being pumped into your ear until there's no more blockage or wax. Only the thing I had was called suction because the ear wax was all sucked out and there was no water at all.

I wanted to make that pun. Do something.

The whole process was me lying down and having a thing schlonked in my ear and it was very loud and then it was a whole lot louder and I could hear again OMG EVERYTHINGS SO LOUD STOP SHOUTING

but no it's really great

That was the story the end goodbye xoxo

P.S. DID YOU KNOW PEEING IS REALLY LOUD. COS IT IS. THANk you for listening 

The Diabetes Club

Haha, I nearly started this off by saying "So it's been just over three weeks since I was diagnosed with diabetes" but that would have been boring as hell so I didn't.

If I had done though, it'd be true.

It happened at the worst time too. Except that's not true. It could have happened when I'd moved away to live in uni halls where I'd be all on my own, but that's in the future and we're in the present, when the diagnosis happened, and I've had my brilliant mother come over and help me with things, so that's been good.

It did happen at a really bad time though. Having just started a year long Art n' Design Foundation course, with an intensive initial six week Exploratory Stage with weekly rotation of different subjects and media, where a piece of work had to be finished within each sodding week goddamnit a week, and you were supposed to build up a portfolio as you went, getting diagnosed with diabetes half way through was (one dramatic ellipsis leading to an understatement belying ones actual feelings coming right up)... unhelpful.

I missed two weeks wherein I achieved no work, which isn't surprising, not knowing what to do n' all. And there was the issue of having to prong myself. With Sharp Things.

It isn't actually too bad. Sharp Thing #1 is the lancet in my bloodsugar testing kit. The worst thing about using that was accidentally slicing my thumb trying to pull the lil' plastic cap off from the pronger. I'm still wearing a plaster on that thumb. It's healing, slowly, and looking rather sorry for itself.

Sharp Thing #2 is actually two things, a set of things. Two pens, identical, one silver one blue, both with two different types of insulin which I have to take. The needles on each of them are four millimetres long, they barely ever even sting. It's just a weird little sensation where the skin of my stomach or thigh goes "Oh hey, there's a lil' needle in you." and the message travels to the brain who just goes "Oh yeah, how cute." and doesn't kick up a fuss about pain or anything. The worst part of it is accidentally stabbing my thumb trying to get the protective nib of the needle off.

The real stress of it at first was the thought that I'd never get to have desserts or sweet and sugary things ever again. Turns out I can though, so I reckon I'll be able to cope after all. In fact, I've actually got an incentive to eat chocolate.

See, this is what I've learnt. I used to produce a relatively normal amount of bloodsugar. I was relatively healthy. My body produced probably near enough the right amount of insulin to maintain the bloodsugar levels, cos' that's just how insulin rolls, maintainin' the bloodsugar, keepin' the balance, like a hard ass mofo. But then it just upped and left, letting my bloodsugar skyrocket, which is a Bad Thing. Symptoms of such Bad Thing include permanent, unquenchable, drinking-sand-cos'-it's-a-mirage thirst; extreme tiredness at too-early-for-bed time; peeing gallons; and for some reason having unpleasant fungal infections. Having suffered all of these, I took a trip to the doctors, had the pleasure of receiving a blood test, went over to my clinic which deals with my cystic fibrosis, had my bloodsugar tested on the spot by a diabetics nurse (who is now my nurse, I'm just one of 158 other patients she's looking after) and yeah, I was diagnosed pretty quickly when she read the results. Normal bloodsugar levels are between 6 and 7. My result then was 21.1.

So. Poo. Anyway. With me lacking the insulin I need to bring those levels down, I need to inject it externally. This happens, and I can eat food and not worry about my blood sugar levels bursting through the top of my head, which is called hyperglycemic, AKA hyper, AKA too much sugar in your blood system.

Foods which have high carbohydrate counts per gram will send my bloodsuger high, unless it's slow acting carbs, like in chocolate, in which case I don't need to worry about them. So, to the point, I can eat chocolate. Without injecting. Good.

However, I am now restricted strictly to sugar-free drinks. Pepsi do alright, actually. They know their sugar free drinks. Unlike Coke Zero. What it lacks in sugar it also lacks in taste. Buy Pepsi Max (I'm not being endorsed by Pepsi, I don't even know what Pepsi are, is it a taxi service?).

(Can you put punctuation inside a parenthesis and then have it on the outside again so you can complete your sentence, or is that wrong?)?

The next stress came not with having to jab myself, like I said it's not too bad and I'm pretty okay with it now, but the thought of having to keep doing it, for the rest of my life. As someone with cystic fibrosis, I know what it's like to do permanent treatment. But not involving needles. I've never had to do that. That's a daunting thing.

Until it becomes second nature because it's just a thing you have to do to keep healthy and it's better than staying in hospital or not being healthy. It was a daunting thing, and I'm really glad my mum had been through it all already so she could tell me all this. Well I'm not glad she got diabetes and had to go through all this. But it was really great that she was there.

So I took a couple of weeks off from the Foundation course, with me chillin' at home, eating chocolate, helping paint the house (jesus christ it was literally the worst time to paint the house dad, never mind me suddenly being all diabetic, I know it was half term holiday for you but you didn't expect to get it all done in a week did you?! Thanks for the supply of chocolate, btw), injecting insulin and checking my bloodsugar to see if it's lower than 10 yet (I'm sure you'll be glad to know that yes, now, it is).

Stress #3 came with going back to college, trying to start doing work and catching up and finishing off my sketchbook and portfolio for a hand-in deadline two weeks away holy shit cunt flaps whatthehelldoido?? Pro tip: Don't spend an entire week stressing over your work and then not getting it done. Also don't stress over print quality and then accidentally break the sodding printer, that's an absolute no-no. Also don't plan a morning out to buy things you need so you can spend the afternoon getting loadsa work done only to wake up already gone mid-day because your dad switched your alarm clock off when it was time to actually get you up (srsly dad, wth). Twice (double wth).

So. That hasn't been very positive. The deadline, in fact, was yesterday just gone, at the time of writing. I very nearly almost managed to finish, but then I ran out of A2 paper for my portfolio. And the whole two weeks off thing. But, and this is a but and a half, apparently I've done more work than some people who haven't been diagnosed with diabetes or anything half way through the course, so I don't know what their deal is. Then again, self deprecating is the Thing to Be these days, innit? If you're not feeling sorry for yourself, then you're just not cool enough. You have to meet a certain criteria if you want to be an outcast like the cool kids.

Speaking of self deprecation: sorry if this has been a rambling, unreadable mass of stuff from the pit of the arm of a really smelly and unpleasant person who hasn't showered in, like, ages, but that's what it's been and I feel like going to bed soon so that's how it'll stay.

Haha, I nearly ended this blog by writing "I have diabetes now. Diabetes is cool." It isn't. It's a bit of a pain in the arse. Forever.

...And that's how I joined the Diabetes Club! So remember kids, don't do diabetes! Goodbye!

Passport

I found my passport today. It's valid until November. I'm a happy bunny.

That's it.

That's the whole blog post.

The Amazing Technicolour Portfolio

I made this sodding portfolio, a whole evenings work that went with a lack of sleep and a whole bunch of stress, especially for my sodding interview at the Birmingham Institute of Art and Design in Bournville last Thursday, and they didn't even bally-well look at it.

I even put all the images on a DVD and everything.

I dunno, can't get the staff these days.

http://joshstechnicolourportfolio.blogspot.co.uk/

2011

As a sequel to 2010, 2011 delivered mostly as expected.

With the same lead playing the young protagonist as he works from his first year into his second year of college, not much action is seen by way of big changes in this young man's life.

He gains some friends, particularly in the second half as the new students arrive. However, he is portrayed as a very gentle, passive character, who gently lets people drift away from him, rather than a more dramatic stand-off leading to a brief make-up before falling out for good. It's like this throughout the whole year, and makes for viewing better suited to a sleeping audience who don't want to be disturbed rather than an audience looking for excitement. Or anything at all.

There are a few major twists and surprises. Not to spoil the plot, but several characters played up as major villains in 2010 are suddenly killed off in this installment, much to the credit of President Obama making several return appearances, still played warmly by a wonderful Morgan Freeman. However, these big political characters are often kept in the background, having little impact on the protagonist. It's a wonder why the writers decided to kill them off so early in the franchise.

Overall, 2011 is a well acted, solid year, although the cracks do begin to show, for what it lacks in plot it fails to make up for in action. But promise for the much anticipated and long since announced remake of Roland Emmerich's 2012 is very high indeed, the rumours that the apocalyptic elements have been removed entirely (and leaving open grounds for a possible 2013?) only adding to the intrigue.

3/5 stars