The Spin-Doctor will see me now

Unusually, totally out-of-character, I have decided to put a positive spin on things.  In particular, these things, and, as Dermot always says, in no particular order:

• the shite wet, freezing, bastard miserable weather outside today is, I’ve seen reported, apparently the tail-end of Hurricane Jedward which hit the UK from Ireland last night.  And even though I’ve never know of an upside, Jedward-wards, this means that when the husband gets home he will be building us a fire of castles-at-Christmas proportions and we will slurp soup from our laps (and, in a bowl, obvs) in front of a Downton Abbey catch-up and flick synchronized birds at the inclement goings-on outside the snugness of our front room. And answer the door to no-one but the lady who delivers the news of a Lottery win.

• my NanNo word count is remaining at a rather unimpressive ZERO, or maybe just 2, counting the title. Because I needed to unburden myself of additional pressures this month and it actually does feel like a great weight has been lifted.  Therefore I will NOT be obsessing over how many Buddies-of-mine are haring towards the 50,000 word mark, nor will I be reading their impressive excerpts of literary creation and thrashing myself with a metaphorical birch twig at my own pathetic attempts at writing, and more pleasingly, I will NOT have another book that is half-written half-loved and half-baked.

worth enlarging, if you know what I mean

• the menopause is just another way of telling me I’m as normal as the rest of the female population who’re also ‘enjoying’ (see what I did there?) this condition.  It doesn’t mean that I’m a dried up, unproductive old prune who'll give up the root-retouches and hack her hair into a short-back-and sides to ease air circulation and reduce full-on-tropical hot flushes. Nor does it mean that I will be spending any more time scrutinising my upper lip and chin areas for unwanted hairgrowth than I already do.  It does mean, of course, that I shall be turning the central heating down a lot more and encouraging other house-users to wear more clothes.  If I’m going to ‘enjoy’ this metamorphosis then I don’t see why others shouldn’t enjoy it too.
• ...piggy-backing this period (did you... yep, I know, I didn't mean to insult your intelligence)  of transition, it also means that I don't have to spend a small fortune buying silly little panty liners, awkwardly-shaped internal sanitary devices,  ringing dates on the calendar and constantly wondering if I'm pre-menstrual or not - I was clearly born irritable. I will learn to embrace it.  No, I will. What? You want to make something of it?

• the so-termed ‘writer’s block’ is merely another way of giving me more time to spend doing proper, houseworky, housewifely things.  Like cooking.  Dusting.  Cleaning.  Cooking.  Dusting.  Cleaning. Nope…. This is one ‘thing’ that I honestly can’t put a positive spin on….

• Ah well, I had a go.

Healing Thyself

So, great news about the Ozone layer, yeah?

getting better now - officially!

Oh, and I also heard today that some Scientist guy who told everyone about the icecaps melting, was lying - ha! Yeah - good one - lol-ling my socks off over here, Boffin man! And, quite rightly, he's been lawfully charged with something or other.  I forget the details.  Anyway, in my head he looked like Emmet (Doc-from-Back-to-the-Future) Brown but that's besides the point. But what a silly man.  Did he really having nothing better to do or was he just after his fifteen minutes of fame?

And I remember the incomparably sublime Stephen Fry telling his audience on QI once that the human body also goes through a kind of regenerative metamorphosis during a 10 -year cycle.  But, no, (husband, specifically - not that he EVER listens to anything either myself OR Stephen ever says - EVER) that doesn't mean that just because you've recently turned 40 you get a whole new body of cells to abuse, neglect and wear out - this regenerative process is ongoing.  But I DO like the idea that the liver I put through very alcoholic paces during my twenties is now a mere spring chicken again - and cheerfully having to endure nothing stronger than PG Tips as exercise.

These snippets of very important information also made me remember the time that, shortly after we were married, the Hubs made me throw away all the tablets I was taking because he was convinced they were making me ill.  At the time I had Trochanteric Bursitis, which was incredibly painful and so I was taking muscle relaxants, anti-inflammatories, painkillers and supplementing these with a couple of Glucosamine (yes, yes with Chondroitin... which also this week was revealed to have proven of no real benefit whatsoever despite advertising to the contrary).  So basically if you'd shaken me back then, I'd have done the decent thing and rattled.

Nobody wants to be newly-wed to a medicine cabinet, do they?

And he was (he loves this bit!) right.    He has a very annoying habit of being mostly right most of the time.  Apart from the 'new body at 40' delusion of course.
Within about 3 days of not taking any of these tablets, my headaches had lessened, the pain from my 'condition' hadn't improved - but also hadn't worsened - and the great thing was that I wasn't so listless and constipated (TMI?).  So this convinced me that all these drugs were doing was confusing my poor body into not knowing what to do with them and where to put them and how to absorb the majority of them.  My body already had enough of what it needed, because that's how it was made originally, anything else was just going to hinder it's capability to repair.  After all, I would never assume to start a scar off by putting a line of Superglue along the cut... I know my body will sort that one out in it's own time without any help from me.

Obviously I'm not saying that if I broke my arm I'd just leave it to heal itself - which it would, of course, it'd just turn out wonky and nobody would like that.  Or  if I was Diabetic that I'd just let nature take it's course and hurl me into a fatal coma, oh no, I'm ALL for topping up where there's a definite imbalance.  I've just come to believe that the body has a remarkable way of knowing when, where and what it needs in order to function properly. So if it says 'you're sleepy - rest' - then do it.  If it says 'you need chocolate', then, by all means, the Vicar of Dibley head-in-fountain technique has to be adopted.  If your body says 'scream' then who are you to refuse it's release?
And if it says 'lie in bed all day reading and having cups of tea brought to you', then where's the harm in that?