A Killer In Your Fridge ~ Sweet Poison…A MUST READ

Makes for scary reading.

In October of 2001, my sister started getting very sick. She had stomach spasms and she was having a hard time getting around. Walking was a major chore. It took everything she had just to get out …

Source: A Killer In Your Fridge ~ Sweet Poison…A MUST READ


Changing medication – again…..

…………and other stuff.

Now an update of an update to my situation.

Thankfully I’m now registered at Brand street mental health centre for the south side of Glasgow, courtesy of my GP.    The staff there are lovely. I have a psychiatrist, Dr Patel, I see on occasion, nice lady. Also a CPN, Kay. Anyone attending this centre has to be referred by their GP. It’s not self-referral. I didn’t even know such centres existed. Just goes to show what you can learn.

People can refer themselves to short term mental health help through an organisation called Pathways, but it’s not for anything more than four to six weeks at a time. It’s not really suitable for long term requirements.

I’m coming off the Venlafaxine slowly in the morning and upping the Quetiapine slowly at night.. Side effects can vary and I still have them. I just have to wait until they pass. Unfortunately these things can take time as those who are doing it, or have done it know all too well.

I’m not out and about too much due to these changes. I just try to do as much as I can each day. I should have had my appointment with Colin today but had to reschedule until another date. He said not to worry and definitely understands what it’s all about. He’s been through a lot himself in the past.. He’s a lovely understanding man.

I’m not yet up to doing much. My concentration isn’t good. I try a little bit each day but not rushing it.  It will be back when it’s back. I can’t watch much tv or read a lot just now so I just do what I can, when I can. I’m trying to learn not to push it too much. This is the longest post I have written for a while. They will probably be a bit sporadic at times.  I do read your blog Ryan, when I can, so keep on blogging. You help to give me the courage and support to keep going.  There are amazing people out there who have courage and strength, you have it too although you may not think or feel it . I know sometimes we falter but I’m trying to learn to have compassion for myself as well. By practicing a little mindfulness and gratitude each day I hope to improve my outlook and way of life as I haven’t done before. Baby steps and try take things as they come a day at a time.



Fair scunnered am I.

The Venlafaxine ‘aint helping. Had a horrendous few days. Ended up back at the Brand st Mental health centre in Glasgow yesterday. Saw a psychologist and my CPN. Stopping the Venlafaxine slowly and starting a new antidepressant, Quetiapine tonight. Saw my GP this morning , Thursday, as well. Will have follow-up. Sorry this is so short. Feeling awful with discontinue syndrome from the Venlafaxine. Really hellish. Not doing well at all. Feeling scared. Just some relief from feeling like this would be nice. I feel I’ve been struggling badly so long. Will post when I can.

I’m existing, not living.

……..and I don’t know how long it’s going to take to get out of that feeling – Right now, I don’t feel I ever will.

Changing the time of day I take my medication is making me feel horrendously awful. Crying, anxiety, aching head and neck, among other things.

Instead of two 75 mg capsules at night, it was changed last Thursday by the psychiatrist at the Priory to one 75 mg capsule at night and one 75 mg capsule in the morning. I had my appointment with Colin as well.

I started the new times on Friday morning. [24th] This is only Sunday. I don’t think taking them this way is going to work for me. I’m tired and so very, very fed up. I don’t feel better and I don’t know what to do for the best. I have an appointment with my CPN tomorrow afternoon. I’m going to discuss it with her. I also have an appointment on Thursday with my GP, another discussion. I would just like to feel better. Is that too much to ask.?

Friday thoughts and musings.

Sounds as though I’ve something really important to say, doesn’t it?. Actually I think my mind has decided to pack up shop and leave the body union. Goodbye body, I’ve done a great job of messing up your brain and body, so I’m off now, see how you get on without me. “Nya, nya, nya, nya, nya.

A bit like the brexit vote yesterday. Scotland, Northern Ireland and London voted to stay in the EU. England and Wales voted to leave.

As there are more people who can vote in England than any other part of the UK it was inevitable that the leave voters there would win. It really didn’t matter what the rest of the countries in the UK  wanted. We would always be outvoted, regardless of what we were voting on. It’s hardly a United kingdom is it? It never really was, whatever the politicians in Westminster try to tell us.

Yes, there is a lot wrong with the EU and politics in general. Like everything else in politics there will be change whatever or whoever is in power, all be it slowly. Nothing stays the same, there will always be change.

Life is like that as well. Change will happen however we feel about it. It’s how we deal with it that matters. Very profound? No, not really, it just is.

I saw Colin yesterday at the Priory. He spoke to my consultant Dr Yellowlees and he agreed it was time to change when I took my antidepressant. Instead of taking two at night, I take one at night and one in the morning. Then it can be reviewed at a later date.

Today is the first day of the change in medication. It hasn’t been been a good start. My emotions have been all over the place and I’ve been sitting here crying and really very down. I cry and then it stops for a wee while. Then I start crying again. I feel exhausted. Colin said it was ok to cry and feel awful and just let it happen, my mind and body is trying to cleanse itself of years of blocked and ignored feelings. It’s awful and I don’t like feeling this way. I just have to learn to go with the flow as it were, not to fight it. It’s hard. I’m scared, frightened and unsure. I feel so alone and isolated.  It won’t be easy or a quick fix but I just want to feel better and work on recovery. So it’s a work in progress. That’s all I can call it at the moment. A bit of peace and calm would be nice though.

Waiting for the asteroid.

Waiting for the asteroid that will obliterate Sol 3, Earth, aka our wee planet.

If anyone happens to read the title of this, one of my few blogs, you may be wondering what’s going on inside my head. That’s ok, I often wonder too.

Inside my head is a scary,scary place. I should know, it is my head after all. I can imagine all sorts of end-of-the-world scenarios, and more, that would have the disaster movie industry weep with longing for  a screen play.

You’ll have no doubt realised by this time I’m having a bad day. It started out all right and gradually deteriorated to the lowest of low points where I was crying on and off for no obvious reason. Actually, there’s always a reason. I’m just a bit slow at picking up on it at times. Today, as is often the case, it was health fear. My health, that is. Is it my Bronchiectasis? Asthma? Sinusitis? The tight muscles, the cramps, the shortness of breath. Some terrible disease? Panic perhaps?  Oh! no, I’m finally going mad, there’s no cure. I’ll die horribly in hospital. The fear that’s always there, cleverly camouflaged as something else so that it seems to appear out of nowhere with a fanfare and a flourish of panic. “I’m here”. TA-DA! Have you missed me? Alongside is it’s ever faithful companion and side kick, utter fear and worry. About Roberto’s health.The ever present HHT. Will this be it. I’ll be abandoned, left alone again. I won’t think scary thoughts about T. 16 years old. He’s a wee doggy. He doesn’t need my ramblings.

Alone, alone I’ll be. On other days it will be something else. Will I recover, will the depression,anxiety and panic ever go away or even get better. The Venlafaxine is a weird medication. They’re maybe going to change the time of day I take it, or maybe add another medication, we’ll just have to see. I can sometimes feel not so bad for a little while. Then it back to same old, same old. I’d just like some peace from it all. I’m tired. Funnily enough,at the moment, the asteroid seems the lesser of the several evils. That’s the way my strange mind works just now. I will end this cheery post by saying let’s see what tomorrow brings. In fact, let’s not. Thinking ahead and catastrophising [spelling??] is not the way forward. To quote Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the wind. “I’ll think about it tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day.”


Melting tar, 2nd cousins, Apple and Passion fruit cider, petrol lawnmowers. Sunshine as well. You’re right, it’s awesome. x

The Sanctuary of The Wayward Son

The sun is shining, truly beating down and managing to make me sweat a little.

I live at the most northerly town on the Scottish mainland, where the road ends. All hope abandon ye who enter here. But seriously, everywhere is great when the sun is shining, even my desperate, bleak, shitty hometown.

Today it’s beautiful, I haven’t seen or smelled the tar melt since I was a little kid (and I rolled it up into a liquorice tube and gave it to a friend to eat as a joke). That smell, that sight, it took me back to my childhood days when Thurso was the only place I knew, and therefore by default the greatest place in the world ever. No, strike that, the greatest place in the infinity universe.

I sure knew how to set it up for failure.

Today the tar road, in patches, would bubble lazily…

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Saving people, hunting things, catching up on the family business.

Good shows. Haven’t watched anything like that for a while though. I will eventually when it’s the right time for me. Miss Marple is about my level just now.

The Sanctuary of The Wayward Son

It’s taken a bit of time to get there, I had fallen so far behind, but now I am there. Supernatural, The Flash and Arrow – done! Now comes the waiting for season 12, 3 and 5 respectively.

I’m not a huge watcher of television, never have been, but there’s been a few shows I’ve watched, and in most cases right until the very end. My pal Chriselora55 spoke about her love of Star Trek, it’s a show that has clearly left a huge impact on her and has given her hope in daily life, I get that.

The Winchesters from the TV show “Supernatural” strike a chord with me, they are two brothers doing the best with what they’ve got, saving people, hunting things – the family business.

They are continuously run through the mill, doing a little bad to do a lot of good, and often doing a…

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Life and all that.

I was doing ok. My medication was helping and I was beginning to cope with things a bit better than before. I allowed myself a little positive thought. I was cautiously optimistic. More fool me.

Today, Monday, June 6. Brilliant sunshine, very warm. Started out like any other day. Breakfast. At the table, Roberto had a nosebleed. Just started flowing. He had to go to the bathroom to bleed into the sink. Long story, short. He stopped bleeding after 15 minutes. Was a ‘normal’ bleed, not arterial. He had to lie down on the sofa to recover, was there most of the day.

When the ‘drama’ was over, that’s when I realised my medication wasn’t doing anything for me at the moment. I really wasn’t coping at all. Anxiety and panic were up there in the stratosphere. Depression was lurking there as well. Really. How am I expected to recover when I have this shit to deal with. Not knowing when he’s going to have another bleed, when will it happen. I’m beginning to resent the bleeding and everything to do with it. It’s like I don’t matter. I’m not supposed to let my illness get in the way, I’m just to deal with it as I’ve always done for years. I don’t think I can. I can feel my temper flaring up. I even shouted at wee Timmy for no reason. I felt awful shouting at him and I gave him a hug and he sat with me and gave me a lick to let me know he was alright. Afterwards,  I fed him and let him into the garden to ‘patrol’ and bark at things and people. Timmy is 16 and has cataracts and going a bit deaf, the wee lamb. 

I’m at a loss just now at what to do. I know things can’t go on the way they are at the moment, but  I won’t make any changes or do anything daft while Timmy is with us. I wouldn’t want to upset and frighten him. He’s a great wee fellow.

So, that’s something big for me to think about, which I will certainly do.  If nothing else it’s made me stop and think about my life needs. Give myself some self-compassion and realise I matter too.  …Oh!…and to keep taking the medication.

Tippy toe-ing through the experience called life.

Life is strange at times. Awkward, tough, difficult, awesome, great, good. Just a few words often used to describe it. Today started off alright. I felt a bit better, hoping that my newish anti-depressant was beginning to work..The whole week was better. I was cautiously optimistic.

My husband Roberto has a serious medical condition called Hereditary Haemorrhagic Telangiactesia, or HHT.

He has AVM’s as well. Malformed arteries, veins and capillaries in his head. So he has arteries connected directly to capillaries instead of through veins first and  can have frequent nosebleeds. Fortunately most of them stop on their own.

Sometimes,though it can be an arterial bleed and they can be so bad, that he collapses and has to be taken to hospital by ambulance. I have nothing but praise for the paramedics.

These arterial bleeds  have happened at least once a year since 2009. In 2014 it happened twice. The second time he nearly bled out in A&E but the wonderful staff in the Southern General Hospital – now the brand new Queen Elizabeth University Hospital – were able to save him.

Four units of whole blood, four units of plasma, four units of saline solution. The veins in his arms had collapsed so they had to put the units into a special pressure machine which basically pushed the blood and plasma into the veins. Scary, scary.

His condition has no cure at the moment. There are people all over the world who have varying forms of this disease. Roberto’s father, grandfather, aunts and uncles had it. His sister, two of three nieces and great nephew who is four years old, have it. They live in Canberra, Australia.

Scientists have identified the faulty gene, but that’s all so far. There is no cure yet. In the U.S., there are lots of family support groups and research going on. The UK is poorly served by comparison. There is a Facebook group, HHT.co.UK. but no family support groups yet in Scotland.

This morning, at breakfast, Roberto’s nose was trying to bleed. It didn’t come to anything but I could feel myself beginning to get anxious. He rested for a while and it seemed to be ok.  At lunchtime it happened again. Once again nothing came of it. By that time, my anxiety had got worse. All the old fears and what ifs, reared their ugly heads again. I wasn’t coping at all well.  I’d just like the antidepressant to really start working and help me cope better. It’s very hard to deal with just now.

I had my appointment with Colin yesterday. He advised me to try to live one day at a time. If that was proving too much then break the day down into more manageable bits. I know he’s right, but it can be so hard at times. I have another appointment with him next Friday.

When my dad died in 1970, it was an American tv show which helped me to cope just a little bit. Sounds far fetched, yep, but Mr Spock helped.

“It’s life Jim, but not as we know it.”  Mr Spock.   “Damn it Jim, I’m a doctor, not a bricklayer.”  Dr Leonard McCoy.

I’ve never actually met Mr Spock, Captain Kirk, Dr McCoy, or any other crew person from the USS Enterprise, NCC 1701.

Because they’re not real people, just fictional characters created by the American TV writer Gene Roddenberry. I hear people say.

Oh, but they are real people. Very real. To me. They live on in my mind, still today, in  my imagination, they always will.

One Saturday evening in July 1969. BBC 1. First episode of a new American tv series. Black and white tv. Didn’t get a colour tv set until 1976. Colour tv’s were very expensive to buy, so most people rented them. It wasn’t until I saw colour photos of the ship and crew that I realized the uniforms were different colours according to departments. Gold, for command. Blue for science and Medical. Red for engineering and a kind of pinky-reddish colour for communications. Awesome.

“Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship, Enterprise. It’s five-year mission – to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations – to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

The first words spoken on-screen, [complete with split infinitive ] by Captain James T Kirk.

Mr Spock was the character I seemed to be drawn to, identify with. He was struggling to cope on a ship full of humans. He was half-human, but identified more with his father’s home planet of Vulcan. He had his demons to fight too. He didn’t let that stop him from living his life on board a starship as first officer.

He gave me a glimmer of hope, that it was ok to have struggles, difficulties but try to do the best you could. It didn’t always work for me, but I tried my best. That’s all anyone, even Mr Spock, can do.

Live long and prosper.