here’s the first review – and it’s rather a nice one, from gigreviewscotland.net.
Very bad news for the fairly aged feline
Well, after an eight month miraculous reprieve from the original satsuma-sized tumour in his stomach, it looks like the ginger fairly aged feline is nearing the end. Took him to the vets this morning, and though the cancer indicators in his blood had dropped last monday, he’s been getting more lethargic this week, and today has developed irregularly sized pupils in his eyes – a pretty sure sign, in this case, that the lymphoma has spread to his brain.
So he’s in for half of today on a saline drip, then we bring him home, and make his last wee while as comfortable as possible, taking him in to the vets before he’s in any pain.
We’ve had two miraculous recoveries when we thought we had days left. This time it feels like he’s got no fight left in him. The problem with medication as strong as the ones he’s been on is that you need strength to defend your body from the effects of the meds while the meds are fighting the lymphoma. And he’s got very little strength left.
Still, we’ve had eight wonderful months that we didn’t think we’d have, he’s had another summer of lazing in the garden, enjoying the shade of the trees, and we wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
A reprieve for the Fairly Aged Feline
Took the tiny ginger one back to the vets this morning (this time last week, we were warned that he might have to be put down at this point). He’s been much more lively this week than last week, is eating well, and seemed to have bounced back, but we needed a blood test to see what was actually happening.
Miraculously, the creatin levels in his blood are down from 800-and-something to 400-and-something, and his phosphorus levels are down too. So that’s great news. Vet thinks the slump might have been related to his cancer, so gave him a chemo tablet that has no side-effects, and won’t knock his kidneys out like some of the other ones do…
So it’s a reprieve. He’s still, sadly, on the way out, but he’s happy at the moment, getting loads of cuddles and fussin’ and may have a few weeks left with us, God willing.
this is him yesterday…
Fairly Aged Feline update
The Fairly Aged Feline, Ginger Edition, has been feeling rather rough of late. After his scary cancer thing at the end of the last year, he’s been on weekly, then monthly chemo, and it had been keeping the tumor (which at the time it was discovered was the size of a satsuma) at bay, so that it was undetectable. He was looking a bit rough yesterday so I took him into the vets on the way to the gig, and found out that his kidneys were both swollen, and an ultrasound showed that they both have tumours in them, which was just about blocking them.
He was given a steroid shot and a different chemo on a drip overnight, and seems to be a lot better than he was yesterday, but it’s still not looking good for the lil’ guy again. So we’re here praying for another feline miracle like the last one, but knowing that he may not be around too much longer. It’s a really horrible thought.
If you’re of a mind that talks to God on behalf of small furry people, please have a word on his behalf.
Call off the new year's honour…
OK, the Bus thing on Jez’ blog was a hoax. The evil Jez was clearly just bored and felt like winding people up. It was beautifully written, and given Jez’ very bizarre life thus far, easily believable – if you get the chance, ask him about his part in Mandela’s release… that one isn’t a hoax!
One More Kiss…
Just been watching the first 20 minutes of a film on BBC1 called ‘One More Kiss’ – of interest because it’s set and filmed in Berwick on Tweed, where I grew up, and where my mum and brother still live.
Our high hopes of seeing a quality film made in a town that I know just about every inch of were dashed within a few minutes as the dreadful dialogue and lifeless acting more than negated the benefits of seeing lovely shots of the beach I spent almost every lunch hour on during high school.
There was one particularly funny moment when the main woman in it and her dad were driving down a road in Berwick – which was a dead-end street about 100 yards from where they are supposed to live (their house is about four doors down from where Giles used to live, and they were driving towards Martin’s house, just in case you’re one of the four people in the world who’d understand what that meant) – no-one from where they live would drive where they were driving.
But, far more shocking and sad that all of this is WHERE ON EARTH ARE THE BERWICK ACCENTS??? Not a single person with a Berwick accent. The main woman meets a 24 year old bloke with a London accent at a Cancer sufferers group – the first question anyone would ask in that setting would be ‘what the hell are you doing in Berwick?’ – no-one of 24 moves to Berwick. It just doesn’t happen. If it did, it’d be conversation point number 1. No, all the main characters have Edinburgh accents, and even the dude running the market stall had some kind of generic accent.
Come to think of it, they might’ve tried it with Berwick locals and struggled to make it understandable to anyone who lives south of Morpeth… it’s a pretty strange accent/dialect, for sure…
The moral of the story is, don’t watch films shot in your home town, it’ll only wind you up.
…however, if you’re a pedant and you fancy a laugh, check out the various online reviews that claim it’s shot in scotland… doh!
Speed III – the one where the cuddly ginger bloke saves the day…
The everso lovely Jez has gone to study music and theology in Vancouver. So far, so Jez.
He’s got a fab blog too, and today’s post is perhaps the most mental thing I’ve ever read on a blog go there and read about it – if you know Jez it’s all the funnier, the thought of the lovely posh bloke saving all the Canadians, and then getting all blustery when they effusively thank him ‘oh it was nothing, really, no please, it’s what anyone would have done…’ etc.
As founder of the Jez fanclub I’m delighted he’s got a blog. Now the daft bastard just needs to do a solo album, and we’ll be back on track.
The Cheat is in trouble…
MSN Message from The Cheat earlier today –
“for some reason whitesnake sounds fantastic to me at the moment”
he’s clearly got problems – can anyone in the Berkshire area call in and make sure he’s OK?
The randomness of the National Insurance system…
The story so far – back in Nov/Dec last year, I get a letter out of the blue from the National Insurance people asking for £900 or they’re going to cut my balls off. Or something like that. I was given 28 days to pay and the letter threatened court action.
I rang them up, said ‘er, what the hell is this?’ to which the girl on the other end of the phone says ‘oh, don’t worry about that, it’s not compulsory to pay it before then, and no there won’t be any court action. Just pay some off when you can.’ me says, ‘so why the hell are you trying to scare me with this letter???’ she says, ‘it’s just a formality’.
What a marvellous euphamism, formality.
Anyway, fast forward to about a week ago and I get another letter saying ‘pay up or we’re sending the heavies round’, with a letter in it explaining about the process of having money taken off you through the county court!! WTF??? This people are mad.
So, methinks, I’ll go and pay some of it off online… er, website? nope. Sorry, no payments online.
This morning I phone the number.
‘hello, I’d like to pay a couple of hundred quid of what I owe’.
‘how about £312.45?’
‘er, no, just £200, thanks’.
‘we can’t do that. Can you pay £312.45 monthly?’
‘of course not.’
‘how much can you pay monthly?’
‘well, like I said, I’m happy to pay £200 now, and then maybe £100 a month til the debt’s gone’.
‘how about £152.31?’
‘well, that’s a fabulously random figure, but I guess that would be OK’
‘right, the first one will be a month from today, I’ll send out about 76 letters before then, confirming everything in writing 9 times, wasting a tree and a half, and ignoring the fact that you’re offering to pay £200 now.’
‘er, OK’.
*click*
So I didn’t get to pay £200. Instead, I have to pay some random amount in about a month’s time, after my postman dies under the weight of spurious letters from the Inland Revenue.
Given that it’s basically the same thing as tax, why the hell can’t I get online and pay it??? Why isn’t there a bank-transfer number or something? Then I’d just pay it off when I’ve got the spare cash…
In case you’re thinking ‘well, you ran up the debt, you should pay it all now’, they hadn’t EVER contacted me about paying this, I’ve ever seen it mentioned on a tax bill, never had a phonecall or a letter about it, until the one asking for £900. So it’s not my fault at all, you hard-nosed bastards.
More MySpace stuff
I’ve spent the last hour or so sorting out a MySpace page for the Recycle Collective – everything’s in place except the audio, and that’s cos I’m writing all of this from in bed, and the MP3s are on the other computer, so I can’t upload them… :o)
The MySpace thing is just huge now, so it’s mad not to have a page for whatever it is that you do. I’m going to have to set one up for the Stevie/Theo duo… and if anyone wants to do a Stevie-fan-page, feel free (The Cheat, you’ve got some time, have a go! ;o)
and now, it’s time to get up, and get ready for tonight’s gig in Portsmouth – see you there!
Soundtrack – The The, ’45 RPM’.