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I can breathe through my nose for the first time in probably around ten years. Its just a fucking amazing feeling and I still have about 6 weeks til it’s fully recovered.

 

Got loads of colour in my face having looked like a corpse and am completely hyperactive despite getting two hours sleep last night. Optimism-a-gogo.

 

The knees and big toe shot were my Xmas present to you all. 

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On 12/12/2019 at 13:03, Dougie Do'ins said:

Usually getting a cold (yes a cold, not fucking flu!!) doesn't bother me. This one however is pissing me right off as it's come with an annoying cough which feels like a rat is scratching the inside of  my windpipes.

Felt like shit since last monday. First time I've been sick this year but I feel like I'm getting a year's worth at once. Pretty much everyone I know has been sick the last couple of weeks. Pretty sure it's the end of days. 

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36 minutes ago, Lizzie Birdsworths Wrinkled Chopper said:

I can breathe through my nose for the first time in probably around ten years. Its just a fucking amazing feeling and I still have about 6 weeks til it’s fully recovered.

 

Of all the people on this forum, I didn't have YOU down as a mouth breather.

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  • 1 month later...
1 hour ago, Babb'sBurstNad said:

I might wait for Lizzie's post not being at the top of the page before whinging about my tight hamstring.


Tight hamstring? Fucking pussy. 
 

I’ve got this little white mark in the middle of my thumb that just won’t go. Like a little raised bump, it’s been there for about 2 years. Doesn’t really hurt just annoying.

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Guest Pistonbroke
1 hour ago, Sugar Ape said:


Tried all kinds. A pin, magnesium sulphate paste, filed it off and it sort of just scabs back. Mentioned it to my GP last time I was there and he said he had no idea what it was. 

 

He's not a great doctor if he can't recognise a thumb. 

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22 minutes ago, Carvalho Diablo said:

I've had a tin of tomato soup yesterday and been sipping on water since Saturday night, huge fucking dry wretches but there's only foam and spit coming out.

 

Fucking norovirus twat, feels like I'm dying here.

 

Do it quietly, the snookers on. 

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On 12/12/2019 at 20:42, Lizzie Birdsworths Wrinkled Chopper said:

Had an operation I’ve needed for years today, fucking years. Been saying I had a problem in my sinuses for 3 years and reiterating it to my clinical team. Got referred to a specialist in 2016, was told I had no issue. Kept raising it since to no avail. Various things have happened since, one of which a sudden massively serious bleed one night at 2am in the early part of January 2018 - pints and pints of blood everywhere, literally all up the walls, my ex described walking into “a murder scene” (and she’d know) as it was projectiling out of my mouth in all directions for 10 minutes or so with no sign of stopping. At one point it was so grimly shocking I was on the cusp of snapping at her to give me some privacy and fuck off out of the bathroom, as I knew it was the only thing which would make her leave my side and genuinely thinking it might all go black any minute didn’t want her to see and be left with the memory of what might be coming. 
 

My team instantly put it down to a massive sudden bleed in my lungs - relatively common in CF patients -  requiring immediate surgery consisting of arteries being plugged up by tricky - going in through the groin with a wire and trying not to guide it to a wrong artery while slowly feeding it up - and potentially risky - might leave you blind/paralysed/etc - methods. Even if they get the right one, the other arteries in your lungs are then under more pressure and it appears from a lot of reading that people going down this route ultimately end up having multiple such surgeries on multiple arteries. Like trying to plug a rowing boat springing lots of leaks, was how I pictured it.

 

The first thing I was told about this by my consultant when I admitted myself to hospital was that they had a surgeon ready right now to perform the procedure and I needed to be undergoing the operation within 30 minutes. I said I wanted time to weigh it up and wouldn’t be rushed into that type of surgery, then ultimately refused it, unconvinced of their accuracy, after a day or two soul-searching with my hood up over my face and a DO NOT FUCKING APPROACH ME expression to each and every doctor telling me I risked dying quickly if I had another bleed. In that time I had lots and lots of hard-headed conversations with different medical people and had reason to suspect the bleed came from my nose, for various logical and pragmatic reasons. I’d finished a week course of receiving oxygen through tubes into my nose a few days prior, as they thought I had pneumonia (was the lethal dose of flu killing people up and down the country late 2017) and my oxygen sats were on the floor. As the capillaries in your nose are gossamer-thin and apt to fray, large subsequent nose bleeds are not uncommon after such treatment, I discovered during my enquiries. I’d also been asleep lying on my back for several hours when it started all of a sudden, hence easy for it all to have been leaking down into my lungs for some time beforehand. 

 

Asked my consultant two days later, who was still adamant I needed this surgery, if it was at all feasible the bleed could be from my nose even at such an extreme volume. He said yes. Asked him if he was 100% certain from x-rays etc the bleed was from my lungs. He said no. Asked him if the issue wasn’t with my lungs but they did this operation, could the procedure itself leave my lungs in a worse place and effectively represent a significant clinical milestone I may not have needed to pass. He said that was possible. Asked him if we were sat here in two years time and I hadn’t had another bleed, would we be able to say definitively they had called it wrong and prematurely thought my lungs to be worse than they were. He said that would be a fair shout at the time and they would be saying well done to me for calling it right, but that’s not where we are. He ultimately agreed to trust my take on it with a great degree of watchful waiting and constant checks. We are now at 23 months in and I just had extensive surgery on a number of sinus issues which could explain a major bleed from them under the circumstances above.
 

Had various other issues knocking me sideways on a day to day basis since and pushing me dangerously close to the edge on a longer-term basis. A year ago pretty much today I was told I would be needing a double lung transplant if various clinical markers did not turn around imminently. Markers which can also potentially be explained by the issues I’ve just had surgery on. Gave up my uni course, focused everything on marginal gains and turning round what I could where I could. Made some big improvements. My team are delighted and feel the above threat has been pushed back indefinitely for the time being. To get there I’ve been in and out of hospital for weeks at a time, fucking about, dealing with inconsistencies, omissions, lack of clarity about what is going on, things I raise being forgotten or mixed up, but throughout all of it I’ve kept saying to everyone clinically and in my private life - usually to blank looks - that something is undermining me which isn’t the usual, and is disabling me in a way a proper cunt of a genetic illness hasn’t been able to in 40+ years.

 

Without listing all the issues in the four different surgeries I had on my nose and sinuses today, I’ve had a really close shave in my opinion. A really close shave. This could have just gone on being missed indefinitely if I hadn’t taken matters into my own hands and made it happen. Unchecked infection source living permanently in my nose for many, many years confirmed by my surgeon. Unbelievably dangerous when you have CF. Been completely unable to breathe through my nose, and several other issues with the state of it, inevitably leading to numerous issues that have just tipped me over the edge.

 

He’s delighted with how it’s gone, reckons the dizziness and pressure headaches which have been ruining me progressively more and more often for the past two years - writing off weeks let alone days, keeping me bed-ridden and stealing the person I used to be - will go within 6-8 weeks, and I will now be seeing him every few months to ensure this is managed and kept on top of. Almost gave up the ghost at times this year to be honest, couldn’t see a way round it, didn’t think it would be getting better now, couldn’t get any proper help from a clinical team I think the world of, and thought I was finally fading out after a lifetime of resistance. If willpower were enough in the face of physical inevitabilities, there would be a few hardy cunts 200 years old plus strolling around, sadly the body wins in the end. But this is a genuine chance now. Not had this sort of hope in over 2 years, and with new game-changing drugs in the post, will be fighting with renewed vigour.
 

Completely genuinely, and properly ridiculously like the big earnest leftie self-parody I am, I grinned and said “LABOUR” at the anaesthetist as I nodded off. Obviously made sure I could vote today before my operation was sorted. Solidarity one and all and whatever the result tonight, as Tony Benn once said, “whether you ultimately win or lose a battle doesn’t matter – what matters is whether you fought it hard”. He went onto say the same battles will be fought by each generation over and over, and that there is no final victory and no final defeat. Nobody who posts on here, nobody, is the sort of cunt who wants to gaslight a nation of people from cradle to grave, to vote against their best interests and/or vote against the interests of those they share most in common with. It’s going to take a new spirit and a new more coordinated approach of solidarity if that despicable fucking cunt gets his majority tonight, never forget we’re all each other has.

 

With all that self-indulgent and not entirely morphine-free spiel safely shat out, I should just point out the hospital have ensured my dignity remains at its usual zenith with some beautiful threads. Aided and abetted by my looking like a bloodied Ned Flanders with a tampon strapped to his face.

 

1) Be still your beating heart. Women are struggling to maintain their composure around me as though that manager Watford just sacked has sauntered in:

 

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2) I can only describe these as the Spastic Imperial Stormtrooper equivalent of velcro-trainers, and assume a more inclusive modern reboot of the franchise is afoot, catering for the likes of me and my ilk:

 

3EBA1366-9DAF-40C7-94AF-742D428B7D67.jpeg

 

TLDR: 2020 is a new year. Let’s not let the malignant, personality-disorder-on-legs lizards who rule over us continue to divide people as terribly as they are now without looking for new ways to overcome it. It might yet take all the solidarity we have in the years to come, to win battles large and small to stop them cutting hard-won progressive gains back even further. And, even if they don’t get their majority, a spirit of mutual forgiveness and connection will be a fitting tribute to having stopped the worst example of the worst sort of cunts humanity produces. 
 

In the spirit of that, @Gnasher. I know your heart is in the right place, sorry for being a smart-arse when you apologised for rightly pointing out I’m a cunt. @G Richards You’re still a loss to the place. Please make the soon to be most repped post ever when we win the title. 
 

It ain’t over til it’s over. Keep on keeping on.

fucking hell Ben I've only just read that front to back.  You are a fucking brilliant chap.  Just keep some tampons with you at all times.  If only to hand out to Stig occasionally.  

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 For those of you who clearly haven't been paying attention to other threads, I busted my left hip.

 

When I was in A&E my X-ray was seemingly the centre of attraction to the medical staff. What's this twat done etc etc? I don't do things by halves.

 

Everything at home seems normal. The cat's have shat in the wrong places and Her Indoors isn't talking to me.

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It gets fucking worse. Supposed to be being discharged today but her indoors has stirred the shit up with the social workers about me sleeping downstairs. I can do the the stairs 'unofficially'. My main computer is upstairs with all other work related issues anyway.

 

Fuck knows what happens now.

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