So the Doctor was....right

Throat cleared up. No pain.  So regular Ibuprofen for a week did work after all.  Hats off to the Doctor then.

Getting better? Yes?...No?...Hell, I dunno.

Pottering around the kitchen this morning making breakfast, and suddenly realised my throat didn't hurt quite so much.  Or did it?  Well I'm taking 3 lots of Ibuprofen a day and 4 lots of Paracetamol, but the last thing I took was a couple of para last night.  Which was 6 hours ago. So if my throat feels milder now...does that mean it's getting better?  Possibly.  I'll see if the trend continues, though I'm prepared to believe that this might just be within the statistical range of "more" or "less" painful.

I'd give it maybe 4.5 / 10 today.  We'll see.  Hurts when I swallow, and yawn.

Neck Pain. Week 4 and a bit.

Back to work today, and my 4th day on regular ibuprofen and paracetamol.  Is it any better? Difficult to tell.  I think not, but then does that mean it would be worse if I wasn't taking the drugs?  Because I'm back at work, I get periods of boredom, during which time I yawn...and it hurts when I yawn.  It really does feel like a weird cross between a viral ache and a muscular one. I've sat with my hands on my face, poking and prodding, but I can't feel any lumps or any soreness...other than what I feel when I swallow.  But the pain is strange.  Almost familiar.  I've felt something like this before, if only I could remember.  Come to think about it, it does feel like the pain you get in your parotid gland when you're hungry.  This is weird. Weird and unpleasant. 

Neck pain. Week 4

It's Monday.  I'm on leave for a day with the kids while Kay's at work, typing this before I make their breakfast.  A little bit hungover from a combination of the hot weather and two large bottles of Stella last night.  My neck still hurts.

I say "my neck" but it's a kind of combination of my throat and "inside" my neck.  About 3 weeks ago I suddenly realised it kind of hurt when I swallowed.   At first I thought I was coming down with a cold, but then as the week went on and no cold materialised I realised it was something else. I still don't know what.  I can't feel any pain if I poke or massage the area, or any lumps or anything, although there does seem a semblance of stiffness round the neck and shoulder.  This could be the cause of the pain, or a result of it.  I just don't know.  Went to the GP on Thursday last week, and she couldn't see anything obvious down my throat (it's about on a level with my jawbone), or feel any swelling.  So her immediate response was "take ibuprofen 3 times a day then see me again in 2 weeks."

I suppose I could have pointed out that I've already been doing this for a week and it makes no difference, but it never occurred to me.  Pain killers hardly touch it, but I guess I've got to go through the motions.  It could be anything I suppose - a wrenched neck, or a swallowed piece of fingernail that's lodged in my throat (yes I do bite my nails), or something "more serious" Dan Dan Daaaahh...

Whatever, it's been going on for almost 4 weeks now so I figured it was ripe for blogging.   If nothing else it'll be interesting to look back on.

Pain level out of 10....7.
Type of pain...burning ache when I swallow.

Heart - Magazine 1978 (or is it 1977?)

For some reason or other I was reminded of the band "Heart" this morning whilst cooking breakfast, so began playing their 1st album "Dreamboat Annie".  Now as is my wont while waiting for sausages and bacon to grill, I started browsing Wikipedia and reading about the early days of the band.

It turns out that after the 1st album they had a row with their record company, Mushroom Records, and left.  However the company maintained that the band owed them a 2nd album, so cobbled together the album "Magazine" out of unfinished studio material, a b-side, and a couple of live tracks, and released it in 1977 without the band's input or permission.

Heart immediately took out an injunction to stop the album.  The court ruled that yes the album should not have been released without Heart's permission, but also ruled that the band still owed Mushroom a 2nd album as per the terms of their contract.  The band agreed, and went back into the studio to re-record and tidy up "Magazine".  It was duly re-released in 1978 with a different track order and some songs re-mixed and re-recorded.  Only 50,000 copies of the original album (on Mushroom Records) were pressed, and all unsold copies were recalled and destroyed.

Hmmm... I thought .  I'd like to hear this original version!   So I started having a good nose around the internet, but with no luck.  No downloadable copies of "Magazine" anywhere, other than legal sites like Amazon, and of course they would be the newer version.

Oh well.  Might as well listen to the mp3 copy that I've got then.  So I opened up the folder...

And then I took a look at the track listing.  The tracks were in the order of the 1977 release (according to wikipedia). 

It turns out not only do I already have the 1977 release, but I've always had it, and in fact it's the only copy I've ever heard!

I have now downloaded the "official" version from Amazon and am listening to it now.  It's different.  More polished.  If you have a copy, there's a couple of clues to which one you have, but the easiest way is to play the track "Just the Wine".  If you hear a flute solo from about 1 minute 30 onwards, you've got the new version.  If it's a synthesizer solo, then you've got the old version.

Alone in the World of the Sighted

Do you know what it's like to be truly alone?  To know something that nobody else knows, that nobody else can ever know?  I don't mean a secret, I mean something that nobody will ever, or can ever, understand?

In the country of the blind, they say, the one-eyed man is king.  Well, imagine the one-eyed man lives on a planet where everyone is, and always has been, blind.  Nobody knows the concept of sight or vision.  Nobody understands him when he tries to describe what "seeing" actually is.  He can't talk to anyone about what a beautiful sunset it was last night, or how the moon sparkles on the ocean waves.

I'm listening to an an album by John Martyn called "Inside Out", and it's black and white.  To be more accurate it's black on white, and always has been.  Black on a white background.  But you will never see that, because I'm not talking about the album cover.  I mean the words "Inside Out".  Inside is white, and Out is black.  Because Inside is twice as white as Out is black, the white is more prominent, hence "black on white".  As I listen to the music, whenever I think of the album name I see those two colours, and for me the perfect album cover would be a plain white background (matt white, not shiny), with the words "Inside Out" in thin matt black writing.

You see? You don't understand what I mean, and you never will.  Although other synaesthetes may see this, their colours won't be the same as mine.  I am the only person in the world who gets this particular impression from John Martyn's album, and in this matter I am as alone as any sighted person in a world of the blind can ever be.

My British Fantasy Society Competition Tweets

Julian lay back, swallowed the pill and closed his eyes. Bones cracked, muscles wrenched...seconds later Julia sat up and stretched.

He tapped the screen. “Evidence of two World Wars, 1914 to 1939!" She shrugged. "So we've crossed time-lines. I'm still going down."

"Welcome to the Infinite Library." smiled the Librarian. "The Shakespeare section? Ah yes...follow the signs for M...M For Monkeys."

As I kissed her, guiltily running my hand through her hair - so like my own - I realised that I now knew who my father was- would be.

Abe glanced through the window and blinked as a shadow covered the sun. Another Pteranodon! The time distortion field was spreading!

She crouched beside me in the ruins. "Thing's'll look better in the morning!" But morning came and the sun never rose again...ever.

“Engaging Probability Drive. Standby for Reality Shift.” After a second of disorientation the universe rearranged itself about me...

What looked like a tall potted palm regarded me with a pair of blinking eyes. "Hey you! Earth-person! You put laser down now, Okay?"

Drab Colonial ruins. Industrial purgatory. The last starship left seven years ago. I'd die here...if I could afford the funeral...

His ship a mass of twisted metal, the last of the alien invaders collapsed to the ground...and expired. “We’ve won!” she breathed.

The sun quivers reluctantly on the horizon. Bats flicker like moths. The lights in her eyes shimmer and die. The stars watch, amused.

The station rotated at a cool .9 gee as I ventured into the forest, pulse laser in hand. Somewhere in the darkness a lion screamed...