3 Years

Been thinking a bit about some things over the last couple of days. Three years ago this week I wound up being flown to an intensive care unit in Paisley. You can read about that here should you want to and haven't before but it rambles on. Since then I spent time not working as unfit to, time looking for work with a recent medical history you can't really hide and then a year working night shifts. Job was good, hours were awful and sleep was an issue.

Now back on days and meeting and talking to people again. Which is interesting but trying to explain in a short period of time while working how I am these days doesn't always make things clear. So an update 3 years on. I'll keep it short(ish).

I wrote the last post here in 2015. That was when I was still working out Diabetes and my health. Injecting wasn't fun but it kept me alive. The aim with insulin therapy as I see it is to keep your blood sugar from getting too high, but not letting it fall too low. During 2016 I collapsed twice while out walking due to episodes of Hypoglycemia which is basically it falling too low. So that went well. This was caused by a mismatch between how much insulin I took and what my body needed, as far as I can tell at least and from what medical professionals said. But the speed it seemed to drop was worrying as it shouldn't do that. What this meant was the Doctors advised me to stop driving until this didn't happen. I got my License back after just over a year last September. No severe hypo in that time meant it was approved. I didn't actually miss it much as I was able to walk to and from work usually. I still try to walk more than I drive now, as after a while off the roads you forget how stupid some people with licenses are. I'm not perfect but I know where my indicators and mirrors are.

The second hypo they kept me in hospital for tests overnight. Thankfully this was my last night in hospital to date. Sometimes hospital wards can be relaxing, but this was the Thursday of HebCelt 2016 as I remember so there were a few others coming in the assessment unit I was held in. Nothing too much and no details but less relaxing. Also I had scans, ECG tests and a contrast CT scan to check my brain. None of which are that pleasant. CT scan was very uncomfortable, not painful but you go through, then get injected with dye and stay absolutely still while you go through again so they can check any damage. They found a brain but no damage so a relief there.

But there was still the problems of the blackouts. As a note I felt them coming on. Tried to stop and take some sugar/other carbs to boost my blood glucose, managed this but then my foot went from under me and then you're waking up in an ambulance, having met a pavement or path face first in my case. Someone who saw me go down the second time said it appeared to be a seizure, hence brain scan but apparently it was just a hypo.

After this and some other heart checks (wearing a cardiac monitor for a weekend, they say you forget it's there. I didn't) it was suggested I went onto Pump therapy. What this means is instead of using insulin pens and injections you're connected to a pump running short acting Insulin constantly. I won't go into a lot of details of how either therapy works and the reasons why this is helpful are a bit complicated for me to explain, but it does make management of diabetes easier.

There is another option for getting Continual Glucose Monitors linked to the pump as well, for the full artificial pancreas effect. But that costs (as does the pump) and getting the pump itself from the NHS is one thing, but the costs of the equipment to use with it is an ongoing one. The NHS saved my life 3 years ago and now helps me to manage my illness in a simpler way without having to worry about the costs. Which are not insignificant for a pump, even just for cannula etc.

The other thing about a pump is you have to be accurate about your carb counting. Anything more than 5g carbs you have to account for. A teaspoon of sugar is about 4 g of carbs. If you go wrong you can hypo or your blood sugar can go through the roof and you can get quite dozy with it, and then ketones are a risk. That makes you focus on what you eat a lot more. And also makes for some mental arithmetic every mealtime, which probably helps keep the brain active.

There are other issue with how the pump works but I won't go into that much detail. Between the pump and the walking everywhere I lost more weight. Now well under 12 stone and actually around correct for my height. Upper end of that but still, better than any time since I was at school.

And that's where I am at the moment with my health. I hope to never have to speak of it in much detail again. It's there, but it's getting easier to manage with the pump. Diabetes can always bite back though, so I intend to never underestimate it.

To Paisley in an Air Ambulance

I'm updating this blog for the first time in over 3 years with some info on my health. I'll summarise as I've rambled on quite badly and didn't intend to but I don't really want to edit it down too much.

Last December, I think I have flu, go slightly mental as it becomes apparent it's more serious than that, get put in an air ambulance with Diabetic Ketoacidosis and Pneumonia, spend 9 days in Intensive care, 9 days High Dependency and just fail to complete 4 weeks in hospital while in a normal ward as I come to terms with being Diabetic. In Paisley. Nice enough place and lovely people, in the hospital part that I saw but not where I was wanting to spend last Christmas and New Year, if I'm honest.

Get out with leg still a bit swollen as fluid's settled on my ankle, realise it's not just that and I've an infection there, realise it's actually on the bone and back in hospital. 6 weeks on antibiotics, mostly at home, and then surgery in April for Osteomyelitis. Get occasional pain from it, write a blog. That was my last 6 months (now over 7 months, that's how long I've been writing this, found it a bit difficult at times) if you read this tell me how your year's been, I hope a bit better than mine.

I don't remember much of the first bit, from what I've worked out and been told since then I was taken into the local A + E with Diabetic Ketoacidosis. I'd been a bit rough for a few days before, and went home from work Friday feeling like I had the Flu. Next few days I was off sick and feeling ill but didn't go to the Doctor, partially because I'd have to book an emergency appointment and I didn't think it was that bad, but on the Wednesday knew I'd have to, for a sick note for work if nothing else. Never actually managed to make the call on the Thursday before becoming very ill. This is where I have to tell you stubbornness can kill, I should have admitted I was sick and made an appointment, but...

From what Doctors told me afterward I'd had a virus and it had attacked my Pancreas for some reason. They don't know why that can happen but it does, sometimes, although I think there is a bit of an assumption there about a virus, and the truth is no-one really knows why it happened. What it meant was I developed Type 1 diabetes without realising. I thought I was getting dehydrated a bit and drying up. It didn't occur to me it might be serious. I thought I had a touch of the flu, I've not been sick in over 20 years and don't know flu symptoms, or any other illness to be honest. Next thing I remember after going to sleep on the 17th December is waking up, I think on Christmas Day, in the Intensive care unit of the Royal Alexandra Hospital in Paisley. It's a bit blurry around there.

I'd been taken down in an Air Ambulance. I don't remember anything of this, I'd also had a chest infection, I've never been totally sure if I had pneumonia at this point, or if I developed it afterwards. I had a chest infection going to Paisley, which I found out from talking to one of the doctors who treated me in Stornoway a bit later, she said that they suspected it but weren't sure. But they put me on a Ventilator and flew me to an ICU they had a free bed in. I thought the ventilator had caused the pneumonia, but I'm not sure. I know it caused a bleeding ulcer which meant I had to be given several units of blood over the next week or two, and as a result I'm banned from donating blood ever again, due to the vCJD risk apparently. I used to give blood and I'd say you should if you can, mostly painless and life saving but anyway.

I think it was Christmas Day, It's a strange thing, waking up not knowing where you are, and hallucinating a little bit. I didn't know where I was, and it didn't look anything like reality, I can't explain it exactly but I wasn't seeing things properly, I was talking and nearly coherent, I think, but things didn't look like they do in reality. I was also convinced I'd been in hospital for months, I'm not sure why but I had to be told I'd been in for a week and not much longer. Also around here I remember being sure I was in Glasgow Royal Infirmary. I think because I'd heard royal in a Glasgow accent and the idea had lodged, maybe because it was the only hospital in Glasgow I'd actually visited before for any reason. It took another long while before I registered I was actually in Paisley and I was getting better by then.

The next couple of days I'm kind of awake but not totally with it. I remember talking to the nurses and doctors in bits and pieces, and some visiting but nothing that clear. I do remember one of the nurses telling me it was 2 in the morning and not the afternoon at one point, trying to reach a glass of water and some other random bits, including them changing the sheets from under me as I wasn't able to get up out of the bed, so I'm turning under nurses instructions and hanging on to the side of the bed. Also for some reason I remember someone calling out for a Chinese takeaway. This is one thing I've never been sure if I hallucinated or if it actually happened. I think it did happen and the nurses were having a Christmas treat for themselves. I think. I could just have been desperate for a chicken chow mein. Who knows.

Around the 27th I think I'm getting better, I get sat up a bit, I manage to take 2 bites out of some toast and a mouthful of cereal. All good. I can be moved out of the Intensive care unit to a general ward. I still have a catheter in, which is unpleasant and I've not really moved myself much for over a week, nurses are turning me to prevent bed sores etc, and also washing me a bit and everything else. But I don't need the intensive care anymore. I reach the other ward and the TV is on, at the time I move it's showing an episode of Pointless Celebrities which I'm worried still I might see repeated sometime and I don't know how that will affect the memory and me, but that's probably a bit silly. My sister has come down for the weekend here to see how I am as well, and she arrives as I'm leaving the ICU, and I'm not doing bad. I'm talking and conscious anyway.

I remember seeing the ICU clearly that day, for the only time and it looked nothing like it had the previous days when I was still hallucinating, much brighter for a start. And no people with pikes standing guard, and the walls weren't orange. I have clips in my memory from what I saw during the 2 days I was awake and in there, but nothing really clear until I was about to leave it. Below where I was in the ward was A + E. I've seen since I was in there that A + E getting a lot of criticism about waiting times etc. What I would say is that there was a lot of ambulances racing up to it, the hospital was incredibly busy but they were fantastic to me. ICU was probably the quietest ward I was in. High dependency and the general ward didn't have any spare beds for longer than an hour or two. The number of patients was high there, turnover of them sometimes slow. But the staff were brilliant.

One point on the staff, quite a few down there, I don't know a percentage but I remember quite a few nurses and doctors who were obviously from outside the UK. It's these immigrants, coming over and working in our NHS and saving lives and looking after these sick people. Sometimes I reckon politicians who speak about immigrants as a drain on society want to kill the sick off altogether. (I see some comments on the NHS and people claiming benefits and I become convinced of it). I had surgery a few months after all this. The consultant who did the operation was originally from Eastern Europe I believe, I couldn't give a flying one as to where as he did a good job and my leg is still attached and just about healed up. The Doctor in A and E when I first went in was also I think from somewhere not in this country, going by accent when I came across them later as I didn't remember them from then, or anything else from that night, and they pretty much kept me alive for a while. So anyone having a go and generalising immigrants as scroungers and coming over here to take from the UK is deluded and stupid in my opinion.

I was taken to a general ward late afternoon on the 27th, to ward 10. Once Ronnie Ancona and Alastair McGowan have won Pointless (I think that's who it was) and I've been persuaded to stay in bed things take a turn. Another game show comes on the TV (a few weeks after this I realise this show was real and not another hallucination, was a lottery show with floors lighting up). During this I start to go mad, and the hallucinations take a mental turn for the night. There were 3 main hallucinations I had here, the first I'm in a house somewhere, there is still a drip attached but I'm not in hospital, I'm somewhere in what looks like a living room and no-one else seems around. I can see the drip stand and I'm being given something, which I think is on ice in this state for some reason. I can hear someone calling for help, someone comes in and I tell them that but they don't believe me, then it happens again and they say I'm right. I think this was the reality of the ward I was in mixing with the hallucination, the one who came in was one of the Nurses on the ward, one of them spent a large chunk of time sitting by my bed that night with me rambling between sleeping I assume but not sure.

Next hallucination I was back home in Stornoway, walking down Francis Street briefly and then into MacNeills (this may make no sense unless you know Stornoway). The bar has gone, and we're well below floor level, I say we as the nurse is still there and talking to me, I'm also talking to her and saying I need to get back to the hospital, and being told I was still in hospital. I spoke to that nurse again later when I wound up back on the same general ward after more recovery time and she said I'd also been on about going back to school and who knows what else. She laughed it off and said not to worry about it when I was apologising for it (about 10 days later) but at the time I think I was worrying them a bit. Quite a bit. But in the shell of Macneills there was a door, and a picture on the wall with people appearing out of it, which may have been other nurses looking in, or doctors or who knows what. I assume I slept at some point, next thing I know after this one is onto some kind of ship, quite a large cruise ship, I can see a reception desk through a window but I'm in a bed somewhere. I try to get up a bit but can't move, I'm not sure if people are having to keep me in bed or if I just haven't the strength to get up. A doctor comes in, I remember seeing him and again he was doing rounds when I was better and I recognised him then as I saw him in the hallucination and remembered him. It's a strange thing, I don't know if anyone realised I could recognise them when I clearly wasn't fully with it but sometimes you can and you can remember and notice more than you might think.

The doctor sent me to the High Dependency Unit. I remember being transferred into it, but it appeared to be a fairly bare room, small and with no-one else there and everything looked weird  as they pushed me off a board onto a bed. When I was recovering properly later that week I realised I was in a 4 bed room in the ward, beside a window and it was a very different colour scheme and there were no doors behind me where people were going into and out of, which I was sure I could see for a couple of nights, also a lot of shelving and newspapers at one point which also didn't exist in reality. Once I was even at some kind of party, crowds of people enjoying themselves and again me stuck on a bed on a drip even there. Which I felt was odd but I wasn't arguing that much I don't think, or don't remember at least. One other thing that stands out was the Endoscopy I went for while still not seeing reality completely, the room they did it in looked very bright and I remember having the tube pushed in and struggling to get it down my throat at this point, but they managed and I assume sedated me around there. I remember waking up after it, probably in the recovery room but there was a whole self service shop across from me, with revolving turnstiles and no-one in it. There was a nurse with me at all times for these things I believe but it's a bit blurry. I went back to get another endoscopy later to check up on the ulcer after I was a bit better, and the rooms looked totally different in reality. It might be interesting to know why I was seeing what I saw and what it says about my mind but I'm not sure I want to know.

After all this I got better. By New Years Eve I was relatively compos mentis, still in HDU but aware of the place and what was going on. Mostly anyway, although mostly aware is probably the natural state of all humanity. I'm coming to understand I'm now diabetic and require insulin, roughly getting some of what has happened over last 2 weeks, and wondering why my left leg is around twice the size it should be. New Years Eve is quite a busy day really, late morning/early afternoon I'm away for an ultrasound scan on the leg. My lower leg has swelled up badly, and doctors are concerned it might be a clot somewhere. Once down for this they only scan my upper leg, as that's "policy", and they haven't been specifically told to scan my lower leg and ankle. Despite the fact it's nearly twice the size it should be and obviously has a problem. This is at times a major problem with the NHS in my opinion. Communication and bureaucracy.

After this I had to go for a 2nd Endoscopy, to check that the ulcer had closed, they thought it had after the last one but were not sure. Before this one I have to consent. I'm aware enough to have to now, I'm assuming before someone else did, but this one as I'm with it I have to. But I can't even hold the pen properly, I've no strength to. I scrawl something and apparently that's ok. Once the tube goes down if you've gone for sedation, and frankly I can't work out why you wouldn't, you remember waking up in recovery. Which is quite a dull room compared to my memory of the last time but it's now how it really is. I'm told it has closed but they want a follow up done in another 5/6 weeks or so and they put that into a letter to my GP and send me back up to the ward. In all this I've barely left my bed , the porters have wheeled me around in it up and round the hospital, which means I'm seeing something other than a hospital ward. It's other bits of a hospital and going past any windows it's pissing it down, but it's a change of scenery.

Once I reach the ward I'm turned around almost straight away, and sent back to ultrasound as they've noticed they haven't scanned where the problem is and someone has managed to convince them to do that properly. One of the Doctors, I think a junior one from how he looked but I can never work out peoples ages, and younger than me doesn't mean he's a junior doctor anymore but with the nurse I've been assigned they wheel me down to ultrasound as they don't want to wait for the porters. I think it's getting later in the afternoon and someone wants my leg scanned. Which they do and they find there's no clot, apparently you are something like 40 times more likely to get DVT in hospital than in normal life and a lot more likely than on a flight as well. But no clots and they suspect just gathering fluid. I get back to high dependency and I'm allowed a sandwich. I've eaten those 2 bites of toast and spoon of cereal in high dependency in two weeks by this point, Trying to remember but there may have been a scotch pie the night before, I remember one somewhere I couldn't eat and it may have been then. But the sandwich was tuna mayo, and that never tasted better than it did after being fed by drip and being nil by mouth for most of two weeks, although not as well as the first cup of tea did. Actually nothing will ever taste as good as that, ever again. Next day for the first proper meal I had a steak pie. New Years day, not exactly in Glasgow but near, what else is there? Another word of advice, never order anything described as a pie in hospital. I found these generally inedible, and the steak pie was a casserole with a small square of pastry on the side. And I mean a 2 stamp size bit of pastry. Just no.

New Years day next, I got wished a Happy New Year in High dependency by a nurse with a beard, which is another thing, why do almost all male nurses have beards? In my experience there was one without a beard over all my time in hospital, and he was a senior nurse in paisley, dark blue T-shirt so very senior. All male auxiliaries are totally clean shaven. No exceptions. Never worked that out, also never saw a doctor with a beard that I remember. Not important but curious. But new years day. Doctor comes round, he's happy with how I'm doing and says I need to get out of bed a bit and sit up to help with the clearing of the chest infection. Also says they can remove the catheter, which is a bonus in some ways, but as it turns out it means I'm peeing in bottles for the next few days. Once the catheter is out I need to get out of bed to sit in the chair for a while, but I haven't moved in two weeks. I was hearing a while back about some space research body looking for volunteers to spend something like 70 days in bed to test what that does to the body. I was in for 2 weeks and I couldn't move out of bed by myself after that. This may have been down partially to the fact I was sick, and lost a lot of weight in that 2 weeks, most of which is back on again unfortunately but I'm trying to work on that. But I managed to sit up, which wasn't too bad but took a nurses help. Then it was standing time. 2 nurses, a zimmer frame to grab onto and it was only standing, turning round to where they'd pushed the chair to and sitting in it. Moving about 3 feet or something. And I couldn't stand. All strength gone and it took me 2 or 3 goes to get standing at the zimmer frame and I was shaking badly while I did, with 2 nurses supporting me I managed to get to a chair. There I think was when I realised I wasn't getting better quickly. The amount of strength you can lose in a short period of time really surprised me.

But I managed to sit in the chair for a while, although it was pretty uncomfortable for some reason, I don't know if it was the height or what it was but I didn't like the chairs, stupid complaint but you have to have something probably, and there wasn't a lot else. The other problem a couple of days later involved the fact I wasn't moving for around 2 weeks except for turning in bed and once I was up I was given a gentle laxative. I'm sure you can guess why. One word of warning if you ever find yourself stuck in hospital like that and stuck in bed, things can explode when you start moving again. Even with a "gentle" laxative. No Toilets in HDU rooms either, not that I could have reached in a hurry anyway, so it's a call for a commode to any staff nearby. And I'll spare you the rest of that story.

Around now I'm ready to leave HDU and go back to the other ward to continue recuperation, to learn more about Diabetes and speak to the specialists about what I'm going to have to do to manage it, and also to get physio to get me moving better again. But there are no beds to move me to in the ward I need to go into and I'm not well enough to leave hospital so I have to stay in HDU for the long weekend over new year, until January 5th as it turns out. I was probably in for an extra 4 days really, by the 2nd or 3rd I had no cannula in even so really did not need the high dependency treatment. If you're unaware of what that means staffing wise Intensive care is pretty much 1 to 1 treatment nurse to patient, HDU is 1 nurse to 2 patients. Other wards I think it depends on care requirements, but something like 1 nurse for every 6 or so patients. Plus auxiliaries and other staff to help out, but you see Doctors if the nurses call them in, or if they're doing rounds, otherwise the nurses are managing your care and running the ward. And doing it well in my experience.

On the 5th the physios come in and I try to walk a bit for the first time. Just to the door of the ward. With 2 physios supporting me and making sure I don't fall I reach the door. Then a doctor sees me and brings a wheelchair over to get me back to bed as I look about to keel over. And felt about to keel over to be honest. Also that walk tired me out so much I think I went back to sleep after it, and it was only something like 20 yards, if it was even that. I still find it astonishing how fast you can lose strength, and it's not as quick coming back either. But I got moved that day back to a more general ward for further recuperation, mainly to get my strength back. But I went down in a wheelchair, with a zimmer on the back to help me along when I get out of bed. And back to ward 10. I don't see the physios for a few days after this, I don't know why, but it seems to be they've been told to visit me in HDU and once I leave it takes days for them to catch up that I'm not there. But I'm able to get up, move about a bit, get told to raise my leg to help swelling and prescribed water tablets to clear the swelling. So all going well. I drift through the next 9 days, I see the physios twice more, for a boring variety of reasons they only see me every few days, they should maybe be in more but they firstly aren't updated with my ward change, and secondly can't help me after I'm put in for another scan on my ankle. Also during that nine days I meet the the Nurses from my home island (there's always at least one, two in this case, one of them from my year in school although we didn't know each other) and recover.

It's sometime round here someone asks me if I smoke, and I realise at this point I'm quitting them, not smoked in over 2 weeks and I've either been sedated/unconscious or hallucinated through where I'd get the cravings. It's not a way I'd advise to stop smoking, but it is effective and painless. No patches, or e-cigs, I'm now off them for 7 months. Smoking and Diabetes is generally not a good idea, so that's another incentive to stay off them, and so far I have, I do sometimes miss them, but such is life. I still don't say no to the question though, it's always I used to smoke, but off them for now. I don't know how long it takes to say you don't smoke, but I'm not a non-smoker and maybe never will be, even while off the fags. Also during this bit I see a dietitian for the first time in my life. It turns out my diet wasn't horrifically bad really, but starting your day with Toast, Tea and then 2 fags on the way to work before 6am isn't a great idea. Who knew. Diet is better now, but there are other issues I have with food and my weight over the next few months, as I get slightly obsessed with the carbs in food, as this is what you have to focus on as a diabetic, not just the sugar as most people seem to think, if they ever do about diabetes. I know I didn't, but I've now learnt better. Also learnt a lot of other things, but not going into that here as rambling on enough. But I also learnt I shouldn't obsess over the carbs, which I did for a while, possibly naturally given everything, and I must also consider calories and fat content. I have to consider them but not in isolation. I can deal with that myself, it's just not something I ever thought about before.

There are also a few questions about lifestyle and the previous few weeks before I went into hospital. I didn't have some of the symptoms of high blood sugar, but I did have some but didn't think they were serious, I just thought I had the flu, and the symptoms were mostly flu-like. I was tired sometimes, but I'm not really an early morning person and was doing 6am starts, so tiredness not a helpful symptom. My vision was blurred when I woke up in hospital, but I never noticed it before I went in. It did take a while for someone to explain to me why that had happened, sometimes around the non-specialist staff in the hospital when I asked about something related to diabetes they were unsure, and the problems caused by high blood sugar weren't always explained clearly and I got a couple of answers which may have applied in other cases but weren't totally right. But that was ok, for me, I worked some of it out after I got out, and a lot of it out with the help of the specialists, but still learning every day.

During this next week I meet the diabetes specialist Doctors and Nurses in Paisley. Since coming out of hospital I've read a lot about the treatment of diabetes and it seems variable. I think I was lucky with the treatment I received from the diabetes folk in Paisley and Stornoway. Possibly not so lucky in actually needing it in the first place but that's done and we move onward. They have all helped me, encouraged me, and made me realise I can deal with it, I start to understand how to treat myself, and what to do. I start injecting my own insulin as well. The number of people over the last 6 months who have said to me they couldn't inject surprises me, but I never thought about it. In my case the option are inject or die (or at least get very sick and back into hospital). You learn to inject quite easily. The needles are small (5mm if you need to know) and painless, usually anyway. Sometimes it stings but that's all. It takes me a good few months until I feel confident dealing with the blood sugar levels, and some very high levels in that time that would be dangerous if long term but I'm managing. Other people stress about the hypos, I worry more about high blood sugar, long term at least. This is what causes cardiomyopathy, retinopathy, and all the other problems. It can make you blind, give you heart problems, and cause them to cut off limbs. You can die, and I nearly did from high blood sugar, or hyperglycemia, causing ketones and turning me acidic. It's still fairly unpleasant to get a hypo as well, and you can feel like you've got a hangover after it sometimes for a short while, without the pleasure before but you get better quicker. The idea is to keep them fairly level, but highs and lows happen and if anyone is constantly and perfectly in range without a pump please tell me how. Or even with a pump but anyway.

But during this nine days I learn something about diabetes. I don't take a lot of it in until later. It's unavoidable but you get given a huge amount of information in a very short time when you become diabetic and it's impossible to take it all in until much later. You get a lot of leaflets to read and I did a lot of reading later and still do, I haven't learned enough yet to be sure about things. Diabetes is a continual learning process, I may do another post about it, but here there is just one thing. In one of the leaflets was the most stereotypically Scottish piece of medical advice I've ever seen. There was a piece about drinking in moderation, and following was basically "but when you get really drunk, get some chips on the way home". There is some sound reasons for taking carbs after alcohol. but the way it was put. It does make more sense when you remember that a lot of people get diagnosed with type 1 as teenagers, rather than when you're later 30s like me so being realistic is important. And I probably shouldn't make a joke of it, but why not.

Once I've spoken to the diabetes team in Paisley a few times and been given some of the meters and kit I'm going to be using to manage it I'm ready to leave hospital. Once the physios give the OK. They check this by walking me around the corridors on a couple of occasions, the first time is after I've been getting about on the zimmer for about 5 days and I can move a bit easier by then, but still not steady on my feet but I manage better. There is some talk of transferring me back to the local hospital in Stornoway, but a few days later (during which I manage to start walking by myself without support, which doesn't sound like much but in all seriousness little victories do matter when you're in hospital and trying to get better) I manage to get up and down a flight of stairs (which takes a couple of minutes going one step at a time) and physio say I can leave ok and recover at home. This takes a couple of days to process due to various pills and other medicines and kit that I'm going to need, but on the 14th of January I'm heading home again, I manage to get the flight booked, this was done through the Western Isles NHS, which I wasn't advised of by the hospital, they seemed unsure how that would work, but it got booked by them and I've had my passport brought down for ID and I'm ready to go just after lunch. But the Pharmacist needs a but longer to sort the prescriptions out and the nurses ask me if I can sit away from the bed while I'm waiting as they need the bed for the next patient. He doesn't actually reach before I go but they have the bed done, wiped down, changed and ready for him before I'm out of the room. It was a very busy hospital, at that time at least although I suspect it will be like that constantly.

I'm taken down to a taxi in a wheelchair from the ward. This is the first time I've seen the parts of the hospital visitors go to, and the main entrance. I manage to get into the taxi by standing up out of the wheelchair, although the driver looks a bit worried when I get out of the wheelchair, or has some strange expression anyway, but I get in the car, get to the hotel my mothers just checked out of near the airport and get to sit and have a coffee for a while, flight isn't until around 6 so time to kill. Although I do need to go in early to get checked in and confirm the wheelchair ride down to the gate as it's about the longest walk in Glasgow airport to get to the Stornoway planes gate for departure and I can move a bit but I'm not going to make that fast enough. Even with 4 hours to get there and through security with all the needles and other medical kit I now have to carry and I'm worried about what the scanners will pick up and how they'll react. But one of the hotel porters finds an airport wheelchair when we ask and he wheels me through to the airport, nearly running over some of the Celtic team in the process as they're just coming back from a January break in Spain (I think, I'm with it but not sure what's been going on outside hospital for the last few weeks) when we're going through and one of them is a bit close to a corner when we go round but he manages to dodge and all is well. Get checked in and wait in the wheelchair section of the Airport for someone to take me down to the gate.

I'm sat in the wheelchair for a while waiting for someone to come, and on the trips through the airport and into the airport. No-one looks at me directly while I'm in it. Generally people at least glance at you as you walk past them, in the chair I think one person looked right at me when I was being wheeled around, other than security. I've probably been the same, I'm not having a go, but was a strange experience. Not being ignored, I'm happier with that sometimes, but people actively looking away from you, and deliberately ignoring that you're there. I'm lucky, it was a one-off, and I don't know if it was me being hypersensitive about being in the wheelchair, but it was odd. The man comes to wheel me down to the gate after a while, and he takes a route I didn't expect. We go through the staff security check as it's on the right level to go straight in, Normally to get to the gate you go up, through security, walk half a mile and then down. We went through security, nearly fell as they asked if I could walk through the metal scanner, I said yes and scared security by not tripping exactly but just getting a bit unbalanced. Is about the only time I haven't been patted down in an airport. Carrying needles, plenty (prescribed) drugs and they didn't even look in the bag. Got back in the chair, and then went on a 2 minute walk, or push, outside then in by the doors at the gate and we're there.

They asked me if I could walk to the plane from the lounge when I went into the airport and asked for a push to the gate. They said it was just a short walk. So I said yes. I'd not been through Glasgow Airport in a while, it wasn't that short a walk. I've never walked that slowly onto a plane, but I managed, with everyone overtaking me on the walk I made it. That may be the good side of being stubborn, I think sometimes it may have kept me alive, but I am remarkably stubborn at times, I claim I'm easy going, but in reality I know I'm terribly bloody minded. Being stubborn probably helped me recover, but it also put me in hospital in the first place so I don't recommend it as a life choice.

But I get home and think I can concentrate on getting better, generally getting strength back. I phone my GP the next day, which was Thursday and get an appointment for the Friday. Which will never happen again given my experience of how the appointments work, but anyway. I get a prescription I'm going to need quite quickly sorted, and all that I need put on repeat prescription, which is quite a lot. I ask about the endoscopy and other referrals, although have already got the appointment for the local diabetes team, which was in a letter I got when landing at home, so some communication works. Also mention the leg being still swollen but at this stage it doesn't seem too serious and I'm told to keep taking the water pills to get the swelling down. Which does work for a while, so there was also fluid on there, but it turns out there was an infection there as well a couple of weeks later.

The next two weeks pass by, I meet the local diabetes team, get given even more information and try to take that in, again most of it only sinks in a later, it takes a lot of time for me to get things clear in my head as to what has happened. But they also give me their contact details and advise they're available anytime if I need to call them for anything, and they're very easy to get on with and very clear about what they're doing and why, which is important. Also I get some checks done and a first HBA1C measure, which means nothing to me until later and rises over the next checks before coming back down again as I get some more control over the blood sugar levels. But my leg is still a problem, swelling is down a bit, but it starts to go red and then skin starts flaking. So back to the GP with this and get told it's likely to be cellulitis. I'm prescribed antibiotics, in tablet form, and told to take 4 a day and keep an eye on the skin. Over the next week it doesn't get any better, although not apparently worse. The main swelling has gone down but there is a lump on the side of my left ankle that is intermittently very painful. After a week on antibiotics I'm back to see a third Doctor in my GP surgery, who examines the leg, and says to try another week on the pills, and makes a follow up appointment to see him the following week so I can be checked by the same Doctor rather than take my chances calling in again. This should be done more, and I think helped with the diagnosis of the problem.

Over the week there wasn't any real improvement, so I'm sent up to the hospital for an x-ray. This is Tuesday and the GP tells me to phone on Thursday to check for results. At the hospital they tell me I should hear the results in a week once I have the x-ray. So I phone GP on Thursday to check, and to see if I need more antibiotics. I get told to drop in to pick up some paperwork from the surgery as soon as possible and then head straight to the medical assessment unit at the hospital. The assessment unit is there as far as I can work out to keep you for up to 24 hours until they make a decision where you go. Sometimes I suspect it could be used to move people around and say they're being dealt with during the allowed times set by government to deal with the emergency cases but before a proper decision has been made as to where to keep them. I'm not saying it's any kind of attempt to fiddle figures in here, but I don't know. I suspect it's to keep people coming in like me out of A+E which does make sense to me but I have heard this kind of thing commented on as an attempt to keep to targets. Which shouldn't be the most important thing for a hospital to do but sometimes it does seem to be for some people. (Or some politicians at least)

By 12 I'm back in a hospital bed and on an antibiotic drip. The x-ray has shown the infection is on the bone. I get told I have Osteomyelitis and I need a stronger dose of antibiotics than I've been given so far. What this means is the same antibiotic I've been getting in tablet form but getting that daily dose by drip 4 times a day, so 2mg every 4 hours or so rather than every day. Which is at times quite heavy going. The antibiotics can be hard on your veins, and I have to get cannula changed more often than they normally want to while they work out what treatment I'm going to need to try to cure it. The consultant at one point comes in, photographs my ankle to send to a colleague in Glasgow so they can discuss the case. Apparently it's unusual to get an infection on the bone without a break on the skin or some problem or way for the infection to get in. Consultant tells me last time he saw the infection like this was from someone who'd had their ankle pinned after a bad break, and the infection had got in that way, in my case he thought that the infection had gone down to the ankle from the Pneumonia I'd had in December and then gone out to the skin, but they weren't absolutely sure, and there was never a definitive answer given to me, as I don't think they had one. Although given the swelling I'd had on the ankle before it seemed likely enough to me that it had got down that way. But I don't know. So I had another 9 days in hospital for this, and you settle into a routine quite quickly.

After a few days of this, and discussions the consultant is having with Glasgow, they decide to put me on a 6 week course of antibiotics. There is some talk that if it doesn't improve a lot I may need to go to Glasgow for surgery, or for assessment by a Consultant down there, but I also need to be changed to a different antibiotic that can be given just once a day rather than 4 times so I can get that done at home by Community Nurses rather than spend 6 weeks in hospital. To do this they have to put in a PICC line in my arm. The anaesthetist who put it in came up to the ward the day before they were going to put it in, and spent a few minutes grabbing my arms to find a vein they could put it in. The problem was that I'd been through so many cannula already with the antibiotics, and to take blood for testing, over the previous week that they were having problems getting those in, and you need a good vein for a PICC line apparently, which they had trouble finding. They'd put a cannula in my last obviously decent vein that morning. After 5 attempts, and 2 nurses having a go at it if I remember right. Not pleasant, not too painful as such, but you know they're stabbing you with needles when they put them in. But I went down to theatre the next afternoon and they managed to get the line in, after a struggle on my left arm and using ultrasound to try to find a vein (which didn't really work and they just went in manually). But they found one eventually, and because they've numbed the arm for this you don't feel a thing, although it's odd to watch, or I found it was anyway. Then the cleaned it up and sent me back to the ward, after the Doctor had added to my notes and realised she'd treated me when I first went into A+E back in December. She said they'd wondered what had happened after I'd been flown away but hadn't been able to find out how I'd been. It was her who told me about having the chest infection when I left on the Air Ambulance in December, and gave me an idea of how sick I had really been.

With the PICC line in and back on the ward they have to amend the antibiotics I'm on so one that only needs to go in once a day. For the first couple of days I get it in hospital, but it has to be twice a day to get the levels correct for these two until I get out of hospital and get the first dose at home the day after leaving. So I have to be woken at 2am so they can give me the dose for the next two days, one at 2am and and one at 2pm. It takes roughly an hour to go through again and it's not too bad. I've been warned of side effects but they don't really affect me. It did leave me tired, but I'm not sure if that was the antibiotics side effects or just when they were putting them in. On this particular one it can apparently leave you nauseous or with a metallic taste in the mouth, but this didn't happen to me thankfully. While I've been in hospital I've mentioned to the nurses and doctors and anyone else who'll listen that I'm due another Endoscopy around this time after what I was told in Paisley, but it doesn't seem to have gone through and no-one seems to want to get it arranged while I'm actually an In-Patient. I get out on the Saturday, last day of February and when I get home there's a letter, telling me to come back in as an out-patient for the endoscopy on Friday 13th March. It should have been 5 to 6 weeks after the previous endoscopy, so it took another month after that time to get it processed and done.

This shows some of the problems with waiting times for scans and checks, it was around now I was referred to consultants in Glasgow to get the leg checked there. As it happened circumstances changed and I had surgery in Stornoway instead in April so didn't need this, but by the time the referral went through the system I had a letter for the Glasgow clinic in June, after being referred in March and it was never cancelled until I called down to them myself. I think it should have been put through the system to be cancelled but it wasn't. So time wasted. Mine not that important, theirs more so, and I still wonder if they managed to get someone else into that appointment, with the weeks notice of it they gave me and less that to be cancelled. But there isn't much I could do about it so I can't worry about it.

On the Sunday after getting out of hospital this time, 1st of March, the nurse comes in the evening to setup for the course of antibiotics and give me the first dose. I've been sent home with most of what I need for about a month from the hospital. This took up a laundry basket plus another couple of bags on the way out of the hospital the previous day, and has taken up quite a lot of space. I've still got a picture of it all somewhere, it looks like I'm setting up a small pharmacy. The nurse brings the drip stand and sets it all up. The drugs are in powder form and need to be mixed with small amount of saline then put into a 1 litre bag of saline to be put through the drip into my arm. Mixing takes a long time as for this particular drug you can't shake it to mix it too vigourously, so it takes several minutes to dissolve properly. The line in my arm has to be checked and flushed but this doesn't take that long. Once the drugs are mixed it takes about an hour to go through, plus more time to flush the line again and make sure everything is in. This is the process every night for another month at least until I'm back to the clinic to see the consultant to check on progress. Over the month it seems to improve slightly, it still looks bad but the pain is decreasing and it's easier to get around.

One the 13th I have the endoscopy. The first thing one of the nurses says to me when I reach the day surgery unit is about the bacon smell coming out of the canteen breakfasts. Which I hadn't noticed until she said it. Bearing in mind I'm not allowed to eat for 6 hours before, I have to go in for 9am so not even water since the night before. I don't want to smell the bacon. I've taken advice on what to do with background insulin doses from the diabetes team but blood sugar is a little higher than it should be. I've not yet worked out better ways of managing it, and am worried with not eating about a hypo, which probably doesn't help things. But it does get me pushed up the queue, I told them I was diabetic when I went in and went from last to 2nd in the queue to get done. So into the hospital gown, wheeled down to the scope room, prepared for sedation with another cannula, only took 2 attempts to get this one in to a vein, and sign your consent. I believe you can refuse sedation and watch the scope happening on a screen. I didn't, so after swallowing the scope they put the drugs in and I woke up in the recovery room. I'm told the results straight after, the ulcer has closed ok, they can see the scar where it was but no problems there. But I've now got a hiatus hernia, along with quite a large percentage of the population apparently. It's not causing me any problems, and generally you can have one and not know it, so it's just one pill a day for this to help this, and I can stop 2 other ones I've been on since December. I tell the nurse whose in that night to give me the antibiotics that the ulcers gone but now I have a hernia. He just says I've no luck, and if he ever sees me getting on the same plane or ferry as him he's not going to travel and get the next one. I think he's joking. Mostly anyway.

But after about 4 weeks on the antibiotics at home I'm back seeing the consultant. Another problem is that a wound has opened up on my leg. This can be a serious problem if you're diabetic, I've read a lot about amputations and issues others have had with legs in the diabetes magazines and the literature I've been given. So it's a little worrying, the nurses dress it when they're in for the antibiotics, and there is a lot of pus coming out for a while, and who knows what else. I think partially down to this, and also partially down to the fact the infection isn't clearing as well as he'd hoped the consultant decides I need surgery to cut the infection out of my ankle. So I'm told to complete the course of antibiotics (6 weeks total) and then they'll put me in for the surgery after this. About two weeks later, after completing the course of antibiotics and then having a week off them I'm back in Surgical Ward, this time to have surgery. Originally I get the letter telling me to come in on the Thursday morning for surgery that day. Once I phone in and tell them I'm diabetic I'm told to come in the evening before so they can keep an eye on me. A lot of this is because I'm newly diagnosed diabetic, so they want to keep an eye on blood glucose levels while I'm not eating, I think anyway. But it's annoying and slightly disturbing that I have to keep telling them I'm diabetic on every visit that isn't directly connected to my diabetes. I don't know if that's normal or shouldn't happen. The I get put back a day and go in on the Thursday afternoon, for surgery Friday.

They decide not to put me on glucose and insulin drips for surgery unless they have to. On Friday surgery is going to be around 1pm, so I can actually have breakfast if they wake me up early enough. So before 6 it's cereal, tea and toast, and that's going to be it until teatime. Assuming I wake up obviously, the anaesthetist has a look down my throat before putting me under and says something about it being a bit narrow but could be worse. Then gives me the stats, including the one about someone every year having a reaction to the anaesthetic and dying. Which is a cheerful thought as you're being knocked out. Surgery happened, what they did, as far as I know, was remove some infected bone (surgeon told me afterwards this was smaller than they expected it would be so that was good), debrade the bone to clear the rest of the infection and clear any abscess on the leg where the wound was, then put a drain in there. I wake up with the swelling gone, my leg bandaged up and I'm back in the ward recovering. I've got a side room at this point, not sure why but I'm not complaining. I don't have to watch someone elses choice of TV, so no Jeremy Kyle of a morning. Which is good as it takes 2 weeks after the op before they let me out again. People get out quicker after hip or knee replacements.

I'm back on the antibiotics after surgery, so am getting them at least twice a day for the time I'm left in. After blood tests they have to keep increasing the doses as I'm not sick enough, my kidneys are processing them too quickly so to keep the levels up I need more of them. So twice a day mostly, but for 3 hours at a time to get them in because of the doses. Plus time to flush them through and check and flush the PICC line (I have to get a second one put in during this 2 weeks as the first seems to block after a couple of days. This takes even longer than the first time, and the anaesthetist who puts it in does get annoyed when he can't find a vein. It takes about 2 hours to get it done, but he manages it and that's used until they let me out). I do get another scan on my leg in this time, and various results of blood tests and microbiology to check up but eventually they reckon I'm clear and I can leave. People have had hips and knees replaced after I went in and got out long before me in the ward. Which I find odd but have to deal with. Microbiology is the main problem. Even when I leave they have one sample showing an issue, but it's probably contamination and they need 2 positive samples to say there is a problem, I think out of 5 or 6. My results were 1 from 9 so I can go. Until the next day when I have to go back to get the clips removed. But that was my last visit to hospital so far.

After that things improved, I will talk about my diabetes again, but I spent the next few months visiting the nurses in my GPs to get the leg dressed, there was a deep wound and diabetes means I heal slowly so I'm visiting them until August, the leg heals, despite the scars and issues with my skin reacting to the dressings after a couple of months which means I'm still moisturising them even now, I get another x-ray which says there's no infection left in August and I'm ok. I'm still amazed I got this far after everything.

But I'll be on medication for the rest of my life, I have a chronic illness, diabetes can be managed but not cured, so needles every day. It's not that hard to get accustomed to really, when you have to do something it's easier. If you have read all this I apologise for rambling on so long. I may do other posts related to it but not this much info. I just need now to find work, so if anyone has any ideas on that score always appreciated. otherwise, please be aware that when you're sick, it might be more serious than you believe.

Boat Race and Shooting Protestors

Someone disrupted the boat race yesterday. Apparently anyway, it's not high on my list of must watch TV events so I only saw the news and wondered if the oars would have taken his head off. But the fact he had the temerity to interrupt the race between Oxford and Cambridge was high up the news agenda. Despite the fact he is an idiot. If you read his blog (here), he comes across as a little bit of a nut. Which is unfortunate. 

There are people slagging him off for having had a private education, so apparently he's not allowed to criticise them. He is, although I don't think he did it very well. The mentions of Emily Davison in his blog are a little ill judged. The thing with the suffragettes was they had a simple idea, Votes for Women, which people could support. It helped, but votes for women came in more as a result of the first world war, the suffragettes cause helped it to happen by pushing it onto the agenda, but it didn't make them change the law by itself, and Emily Davison lost her life in the protest, with the King asking for the horse at the time. Is he trying to get people to kill themselves for his cause?

So what was Oldfield trying to achieve? He doesn't exactly have a great rallying cry - "Elitism Leads to Tyranny" isn't going to cause the world to sit up and take notice, because we're not that sure what he's on about. He seems to be almost suggesting suicide to protest about elitism. But because he isn't arguing something simple, and isn't really making that great a statement or causing people to say I agree he's going to fail. And he's also going to set back the right to protest.

Given what he did, what I fear now is someone being shot during the Olympics, they were trying to do a peaceful protest, but someone will give an order to shoot first at the marathon, or some other of the more open events, because they will think terrorists have been given ideas by this guy. And they will not allow protest at these games, that seems to be clearer than ever. I'm expecting a protester to be killed by police this summer after Trentons' protest. I hope I'm wrong, but we'll see later this year.

Matthew Wright

If you need the context of what this is about you can find it here. To summarise a 16 year old was killed here recently, 20 minutes walk from where I live. Matthew Wright and guests decided it's a subject for jokes. I tend not to object too much when someone makes a poor taste joke, generally I'll defend them if pushed into it. Free speech and all that stuff, but this wasn't something you can even try to defend. This wasn't even in poor taste, it was incredibly insensitive, it was wrong to deal with it in that way. The issue I think is that some people, including Matthew Wright, don't entirely see it that way.

I didn't know Liam Aitchison, or even know of him until he was reported missing. He was less than half my age. I remember being 16, not entirely fondly but I lived through it. He wasn't allowed to. He was murdered by someone. This is not a subject for humour by any sane and normal individual.

Matthew Wright did apologise for the comments. Or at least that is what the news sites are saying. I remember reading something when Liam Fox resigned about the apology he gave, he apologised if it appeared he did wrong, but it was your fault for thinking he was in the wrong. I can't remember who wrote that piece but it's worth a read if you can find it. And that's how I read the Matthew Wright apology, you took offence, I'm obliged to say sorry to keep my job, but it is your fault for finding offence in what I said.

I've seen some comments comparing the comments to what Jeremy Clarkson said about strikers. That in my view was obviously a joke. And I've seen other comments asking would he have said that about the murder of Stephen Lawrence, and then mocked his accent the same way. Do you think he might have been condemned as racist if he'd done that? Probably. I'm not accusing him of being racist, or even anti-scottish, but it is something to consider.

The other thing that has got people annoyed was his apology, and the last comment about the group on facebook about reporting Matthew Wright to Ofcom. This does show, in my view, how he was less than serious about the apology, as it was a crass thing to say at best, and shows him up. He wanted the publicity, now he has it. He may have been right about campaigns on facebook though. That kind of thing is what the Daily Mail at it's worst would do, shout about sacking people, or campaign against someone who has said something stupid, or offensive. And I don't like those. It's organised complaints, and that could be against something important, there are many people who will condemn people they disagree with that you will agree with. We all have different views after all.

I'd like to see Matthew Wright apologise properly, and recognise that it was a stupid comment. I doubt he will, but starting a campaign gives him publicity, and he should be denied that. After all, I can't remember the last thing I watched on channel 5 that wasn't football. I won't be watching him, I never did. I wouldn't have been aware of the comments but for the publicity attached to them. And so therefore we descend further.

Twitter Bullying

Everyone and their Mother has had a comment on Ricky Gervais and the "Mong" debate this week. I'm not going to comment much on it here, read Richard Herring blogging on it as he puts it well. Just a couple of things from me, the first being Gervais' comment about how the meaning has changed, look it's in urban dictionary. I'm not sure if he just looked that up to support himself but what the whole thing looks like to me is a 50 year old trying to talk like he's still a teenager and still cool, which is a little pathetic. You could say any word, let's say the N word, being careful how I phrase things here, and say it means something else, then put up a definition to say it doesn't mean what you think it does, it means this. If it doesn't mean what you say to the people you were talking to then you're being offensive. Offensive can be ok in comedy if you're funny enough but in this case I don't think he was. Purely my view.

And we come to the second point here. What happened when he was challenged on the use of the word was that he RT'd the comments and then a whole load of followers decided to attack. From comments on twitter from Richard Herring today he had several thousand people attacking him for daring to query Gervais and his response about the meaning. Quite a few abusive. Which was in a way encouraged by Ricky Gervais. And that to my mind is bullying. There were other people who took it up with him, and some of them also received abuse, I heard someone on the radio yesterday who had been a victim of this as well. Just for disagreeing with someone, and saying they thought he was wrong.

This isn't something that's come out of nowhere, I've seen it happen or heard from other people I follow on twitter that it happened to them. And I don't get why people do this. They follow a celeb, fair enough I follow a few myself, but when someone disagrees with them, or says something they don't like they RT it and then an attack seems to start. I don't understand why people do this? Why go into attack another person because they disagree with something someone else said? They're generally not being abusive, in most cases although some are, and they're only making a point that isn't nasty to anyone else, but thousands can descend on them because of one comment or RT by someone else. There is general nastiness from individuals as well, but when you get a large number of people doing it, that is bullying, led by a sneering idiot usually. It mystifies me why people do this, why you start sending messages because a celeb you follow says something. Do you think you're helpful, do you think you're defending them when you attack someone else, are you being verbally abusive for a reason other than an ego thing, saying I'm defending this person, because I know them, do you think you're friend with the people you follow on twitter? Don't understand it, I really don't.

Trial by Twitter

So Amanda Knox is innocent and now free, despite what the Daily Mail said very briefly on Monday night although this explanation does tell you how they screwed that up. And as much as I despise the Daily Mail, it's fair enough. But the thing that interests me is the comments that were getting made on Twitter when she was released and are still going on, by a huge number of people who know about as much as I do about the Italian Justice system, (I assume this is true for most of them anyway), which is pretty much nothing. But it struck me again that people believe what the propaganda is, and that there may yet be an issue with that.

Now there are still questions to answer in that case, Meredeth Kercher was murdered by someone and the Kercher Family do deserve answers, which they are not getting. In my view there are many unanswered questions about the case, and they may be able to get some from Knox and Sollecito if they are prepared to tell them, or what they tell the press. But this isn't what I'm talking about here, I'll accept the Courts verdict on guilt or innocence. But plenty others do't seem to.

We had the same kind of comments when Rebecca Leighton was released. People assumed guilt, mostly based on what was said in the press. There is an assumption of guilt when someone is arrested. People talk about not trusting the police, but they seem to automatically assume that when someone is arrested for a high profile crime that they must be guilty and it's ok to pronounce on that. I saw comments when Rebecca Leighton was freed that said how can they let her out when she's guilty, the comments were accusing her of Murder, with no evidence despite the fact the police have confirmed there wasn't evidence of it, people were still screaming that a murderer had been released. There were other cases you'll probably be aware of, mostly based on biased press reports and assumptions made by people hearing the news and not thinking properly.

I don't understand why we slag the press off so much and then accept much of what we're told as fact without thinking about it. When people are arrested and charged they are not guilty at that point, but people seem to accept that the police don't arrest anyone without cause for serious crimes, except when it is someone like them, or related to a cause the believe in, or something they follow. And even then they believe the papers, despite the general criticism of the police that they may make every day. We buy into hype too easily, and I'm not sure why that is for some people. It's just annoyed me. I'm not making a point here really,  I'm just thinking out loud, and there's no-one here listening.

It's a Conspiracy

Started watching a programme on crop circles the other night while flicking through the channels before going to bed. Most of it was just various people talking about how they're from another world, or how they're faked, and showing how they actually do the fake, but there was a section in there about a video someone had made. He claimed it showed a crop circle being made by 2 balls of light. He'd faked it, obviously, but there was someone on there who appeared otherwise rational, who said it was real, and that the guy had recorded it and then lied after he'd been got at by the people covering these things up to say it was fake. Never mind the guy and his mate actually recorded themselves faking it and then confessed later they'd done it. Nope they'd been got at by someone (I assume government but I kind of missed who the someone was, if he said). The argument was no-one else had ever seen a video like it, and no-one had ever made another one as it was too difficult, so it had to be real, and that seems a little odd, why would you repeat a fake seems a better one to me. Took the production team less than 2 hours to replicate on the same kind of software so the no-one could fake it argument went. Although I doubt that bothered his argument too much. Evidence can generally be ignored where it doesn't suit your worldview.

What it set me thinking about was general conspiracy theories, there are a hell of a lot of them out there. And they're mostly bullshit. I say mostly, I suspect they may all be but there's probably one somewhere where some is right about some minor thing, which then allows all conspiracy theorists to say see, told you there was a cover up. The thing is there is rarely a cover up for anything. We had the 9/11 conspiracy theories getting an airing earlier this month, and the ignorance of evidence there. People believing there was no reason for the towers to go down because they were hit by a plane. I don't think they stress tested for a 747 coming into the building, there was no reason for them to stay standing. It's lunacy to suggest that the government organised these attacks as some do, considering the American government can barely organise their budget now, there is no way something that would have required that many people to pull off could have been covered up successfully. It just isn't possible with people talking, someone would know and tell, they can't kill everyone, no matter what you think. They really can't.

Conspiracy theories are a bit of a mystery to me, I understand why you might go there, but I prefer to look at the evidence personally. Generally you can find something that explains what you don't understand, and if you can't it's worth looking again. I don't know if people who believe strongly in them are missing something in their own lives, but it's odd that people can't accept reality. The word But is a good one to use sometimes, but mostly when the truth is told you can tell, and when you can't, you find out quite quickly, especially nowadays. Don't accept bullshit but you should know when it's being spouted.

One final thing, if you believe 9/11 or UFO conspiracy theories are the work of wingnuts, do a search for either Celtic or Rangers and referee, or maybe just SFA. "The Refs are a' Masons agin the bhoys/He had a Cross on his whistle." These are the work of the mad. Much more than anything else you read.