Saturday 30 June 2012

Question Time


Hey guys, I thought I'd open up the floor to answer some questions. I get a lot of emails asking me all sorts of things from, how did I get diagnosed to my favourite salty snack, or how to talk to doctors, or even how to start a health blog. I reply to as many of these as I can (sadly not all thanks to sheer numbers and the ever present fatigue and poor health we are all dealing with), but that's a one-on-one basis. Often, after the fact I think the question, and answer, are one many could benefit from and I should do a blog post. Of course, seven seconds later I've forgotten that great post idea (thanks bright shiny objects) and the post is never written. So I thought it was about time I rectified things with a little Q&A session.

So, what questions do you have and what do you most want to know about?  Me? The blog? Dysautonomia? Doctors? Lemurs? Quantum physics? Whether I'm a Sam or a Dean girl? What I'd name my direwolf? The political situation in Nicaragua? Whatever. I can't promise I'll have an answer. I can't promise the answer will be coherent, or even on topic. It'll probable feature the number 42  frequently. But there'll be an answer.


What do you most want to know?

Just write your questions in the comments section below.

NB: I'm not a doctor and any medical questions/decisions need to be discussed with your treating physician. I can only share my personal experiences. As we all know Dysautonomia often has a very individualised presentation and often what may work for one of us, may not work for everyone. 

Michelle :)

When your song choice has to be related to questions, you can't go past The ClashShould I stay or should I go? (1981). Which I may or may not have belted out at the top of my voice at more than one bar over the years. Along with The AngelsAm I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again?, and pretty much anything by the Violent Femmes.

Friday 29 June 2012

The Zombiefication of a Rusty Hoe.

Living with chronic illness has many downsides. Lets face it dealing with the day-in and day-out of doctors, drugs and symptoms is not what dreams are made of. But it also has another side. For me being chronically ill has in a sense made me feel freer. Sounds bizarre I know, but it's true. My life is not what it once was. In fact it's been turned upside down, inside out and I'm still not quite sure where, or if, it has landed. But what that means is, all bets are off.

My body is on the decline. Something that has become far more apparent over the last year. As I mentioned in this post, that realisation gives a certain level of release. Instead of thinking of all the reasons not to do something, I give myself permission to say "Go for it". In many cases it's small things like sitting on my couch wearing my Dorothy shoes because they make me happy. Or wearing my bright purple compression stockings with shorts and sparkly silver flats to the doctors. Or even wearing a pink feather boa in my profile picture. Because at this point in the game, doing things that make me happy is far more important than worrying about what others will think. 

This past month I took this to a new level and had the time of my life. Most who read this blog or follow on Facebook know of my love of zombies. It's nothing new. I've loved horror movies since I was kid and experienced my first Sam Raimi movie, in the form of The Evil Dead (1981). But of all the genres, zombie flicks have always had a special place in my heart. If you haven't seen George A. Ramero's Dawn of the Dead (1978), well you just haven't experienced a decent zombie movie. Mind you I am also partial to a really bad zombie movie like Dance of the Dead (2008) which comes complete with a zombie prom attack and zombie make out session, oh yeah. And on a more recent level, Zombieland (2009), never fails to crack me up and is my fall back movie when I need a good laugh.

These days, Dysautonomia means I have a lot in common with zombies. I often slur and groan. I am known to stumble and lurch when I walk. My skin varies between grey, deathly pale, slightly green and the ever present purple blotchiness. Add in that my cognitive skins are often on par with those of a used piece of chewing gum and well, I may just be one of the walking dead. Luckily, in May, I was able to embrace my zombie self and have some of the best fun I've had in a really long time.

A while back the Universe shined a little zombie shaped light on me, and I won a photo shoot with the lovely and talented Georgia Laughton from Logicbunny Photography.

I don't even know where to begin in telling you how much fun I had. So much in fact, that I couldn't keep the grin off my face and as Georgia pointed out, I was the world's happiest zombie. I even got to share it with my bestie Kerri, who not only drove me, provided moral support and laughed with me, but was totally unphased that we drove home with me in full make up so I could freak out the kids. That, dear readers, is a good friend.

I wish everyone could do it. It was a little out there (not often you walk into a house and see bloody hand prints and BRAINS scrawled in fake blood on a wall), a little weird, a little bit theatrical, a bucket load of fun and just the escapism I needed. I don't even care that I spent the next week recovering in bed. From the initial pre-photo questionnaire (who else ever thinks to ask who your favourite super hero is?) to the fact that Georgia had taken into account that I might need to lie down, or need breaks, or water. To giggling whilst the talented makeup artist, Jade, splattered me with fake blood. Or just being made to feel comfortable in my weirdness. I simply had a ball. And as someone who normally hates to have their picture taken, I'll have to say it's a real tribute to Georgia that I was so busy having fun that I forgot to be self-conscious and just went with it (ANTM watch out!). If you are ever in Melbourne, Australia, I can't recommend the whole experience highly enough. 

The make up stage took about an hour. Jade went to town with the blood and pasty white skin, with  amazing attention to detail. It looked fantastic. And the question you all want answered, the taste of fake blood?, somewhere between  rancid aniseed and arse. Mmmm yummy.

(Who knew I could be even more pale?)

Now for a couple of the fabulous pictures. If you'd like to see more of Georgia's work check out her site Logicbunny Photography. Check out the picture of the tutu and roller-skating zombie doing the splits. I believe that may be my favourite of all her pictures.
 (Eating all those brains makes for a sleepy zombie. And yes those are my Dorothy shoes you spy there.)
 (Mmmm yummy severed hand, what more could a hungry zombie ask for?)
 (Oh yeah sexy zombie pin up. Luckily you can't see the shaky legs or see me swaying side to side.)
(Mmmm brains)
(Giggling, happy Zombie)
(The lovely Jade left, Georgia right, and myself)

It was a long day, but I treasured every minute of it. I rarely get out of the house these days simply because of the time it takes for me to recover. Not to mention the joy that if the trip is more than about 20mins, I end up having to stop and explode at one, or both ends, in a public loo or nearly pass out (it's a sexy life). So when I do go out I want it to be worth it, and this really was. It's hard to explain to someone who's not ill, but to be someone else for an afternoon and just not be the sick person, well that's precious. The whole afternoon was the antithesis of my normal life and I am grateful for the opportunity. Big thanks to Georgia and Jade, for being lovely and fun, and creating a brilliant experience.

I know doing a zombie photo shoot is not everyone's cup of tea (my parents and siblings are questioning if I was swapped at birth, Mr Grumpy and the boys are more used to me), but I hope it inspires others to step outside of their comfort zones and find their own version of a zombie photo shoot. So many of us have a secret something that we've always wished we could do, or perhaps more importantly something that only our worries of judgement are preventing us from doing. Well, you know what? You can do it. The only person stopping you, is you. So dye your hair purple, dance in the store because your favourite song came on, try an oyster, take that painting class, go to Comic Con, or plaster large photos of yourself dressed as a zombie on your loungeroom walls, whatever it is, just do it. Because you never know just how much fun (or movie blood) is waiting for you.

The Zombiefied Michelle :)

*For those new to the blog the origins of Rusty Hoe are as follows:

"I was named Rusty Hoe by my delightful family.  One night around the dinner table, we were discussing how I had devolved from the brains of the family to not the sharpest tool in the shed.  Mr Grumpy, decided that not only was I not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I was the rusty hoe left out the back of the shed.  Whilst it took Mr Grumpy a while to catch on to what he had said, the monkey boys burst into fits of laughter at their father's faux pas.  What will be the salient moment my children will recall from their youth?  That their father called heir mother a 'hoe' at the dinner table".

The musical accompaniment is easy for this post, the only toss up was whether to go with something by Rob Zombie or The Cranberries, Zombie (1994). The Cranberries win on sentimental grounds as I used to listen to this when I was pregnant with the L-plater all those years ago.

Tuesday 26 June 2012

Happy 19th Wedding Anniversary, Mr Grumpy!

I've always done things a bit differently. Whilst most of my friends were at uni, travelling or partying I took a different path. At 17, I met Mr Grumpy. By 19, we were engaged. At 20, we were married. At 21, I gave birth for the first time. By 25, I was a mum of 2. The media tells me this is wrong. That we are doomed to fail. Yet today as I type Mr Grumpy and I are celebrating our 19th wedding anniversary. 
(Good lord we were young)

I know we're lucky. Particularly, with me being ill. Divorce rates are bad enough, but add in illness or injury, and divorce rates sore. I am grateful everyday, when I read about the marriage breakdowns on the forums, that Mr Grumpy is by my side. I don't know if I could do this every day without him.

He's not just my husband. He's the father of my children. My lover. My best friend. And now my carer.  As corny as it sounds, he is the love of my life.

That's not say, it's all been beer and skittles. We've had ups and downs, and fought like cats and dogs. But in the end, and when it really mattered, we've always been there for each other.

The past six years that I've been ill have changed and tested our relationship in many ways. I'm not the person I was before. I know I'm damn hard work at times. Our plans for the future were turned upside down and life went into free fall for a while. Illness does that. It changes you emotionally and psychologically. it challenges your relationships with the ferocity of a pit bull. It changes you both mind, body and soul. Nothing can prepare you for the reality of that challenge.

And yet despite it all, he goes out of his way to make me feel loved and cherished. He looks at me like I'm still 17 and makes me feel worthy and special, even when I feel it least. Whatever has happened during the day, no matter how sick I am, when he holds my hand as we go to sleep I never fail to feel safe and loved. What more can you ask for?

So happy anniversary Mr Grumpy. The road may not have been quite so straight as we planned. And there may be a bucket load of pot holes. But I am glad you are by my side as we stumble along.

I have written about Mr Grumpy a few times over the years. He's a pretty good guy when it comes down to it.
Chick Flick Moment
You Get Less For Murder
Twenty Years

Michelle :)

Monday 18 June 2012

"Should I go to the ED?" and other dumb questions I ask myself.

Yesterday was a bad day. And a bad Bob day is not a day I would wish on anyone else. On reflection I should have gone straight to the ED. Hell, even today my vitals are probably still worthy of a check. But no, I sat (read: flopped, clutching my chest, going a delightful shade of grey) on my couch and ummed and ahhed about going to the ED.

Why oh why do I do that? If anyone else told me their heart rate had dropped to 40 and their diastolic had jumped up to 113, I'd be straight onto 000 calling an ambulance. The fact that this didn't change in the slightest for about 2hrs was still not a reason for me to head into the ED. At this point even I can hear the lyrics to Smash Mouth's, Allstar...

She was looking kind of dumd with her finger and her thumb. 
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead.

...playing in my mind.

And it is stupid. I can admit that today. Yesterday, not so much. Oh sure there was that little voice screaming at me to go straight in but I silenced that quickly with a big ball-gag of denial. Instead I rode it out. I drank my body weight in fluids, wept a couple of tears in the privacy of my bedroom, and deluded myself that getting my heart rate back up into the mid 50s meant I had over-reacted earlier.

Someone once told me the world is gonna roll me
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed.

The conversation in my head went something like this:

It's just a dip. The switch will go off and it'll stabalise. Okay so it's going on a bit longer than I expected. But it does that every now and then. I'll see if anyone has any tips on Facebook. I know everyone is saying go to the ED but I'll give it just a bit longer. Hmm that chest pain's a bit intense. Wish my neck and left shoulder weren't aching so much. Probably just a strain though. I'm obviously over-analysing things. Maybe I should give my inlaws a heads up that I may need to go in? But I know they'll worry. I can't deal with worry. I'll just keep and eye on it. Damn I feel crap, but sure as eggs I head into the ED it'll start to go up and they'll look at me like a hypochondriac. Plus the wait. Ugh. I hate the wait. Plus the germs from all the other sickies in there. I don't need another infection.  I'll just wait it out. Damn heart just stop with this stupid pain business. Ooo look my heart rate has nearly hit 50 I'm improving! No point going in now. Anyway, I really don't want to go through the whole explanation thing AGAIN. The hassle of the ED just isn't worth it. How do I explain that my normal is abnormal or that my abnormal looks normal? Or that there is a huge difference between lying and standing obs? Might as well try and hold an octopus into a string bag. It's just as futile. 50's not bad anyway. I've had worse. And my cardio is on holidays so they can't call her. Plus Mr Grumpy's away and the kids need to get to school. And the dogs will go ballistic alone in the house all day. I can't afford to stay overnight if they do find something. It just wont work. Too much hassle. I'll just drink some more and maybe sleep for a while....Look I made it through the night. I OBVIOUSLY didn't need to go into the ED after all. Harden up, Princess. Bloody drama queen.

Yes. The dumb is strong in this one.

But that's how it works in this deranged old mind of mine.

When you are sick 24/7 your idea of what is ED worthy becomes skewed. My everyday health especially my heart rate and blood pressure would send average healthy folk running to the ED. Basically, I live in 000 (the emergency number here in Oz) territory 24/7. If I went every time it bottomed out or went too high, or I lost feeling somewhere, or it felt like someone was forcing a railway spike through my head, or any of the other daily crap I deal with, I might as well just set up a little camp site in a corner of the waiting room as I'd simply never leave. Overtime it's become harder and harder to discern just when I should worry. Even talking to my cardio about this very issue a while back, she was hard pressed to give me guidelines as to when I really should go into the ED. And stupidly I always think of the ED as a place for people who are really sick, not when your sick is just an extreme of your normal sick (I really need to be studied for my high level of stupidity).

Add in that a trip to the ED is also a crap shoot. The chance of getting a doctor who understands, let alone has heard of your condition is slim. Trying to explain the complexities of your health and why the vitals or bloods they are getting aren't good is often an exercise in futility. Will they believe you? Will they call for a psych consult? Will I even be in a fit state to articulate any of it. Lets face it EDs aren't designed for complex conditions. If it bleeds or it's broken they are great, but when your needs are complex it can become a nightmare. I do respect those who work in the ER. It's not a job I'd want. Having a sister who used to be an ED NUM I know only too well what she has put up with over the years. And I understand I am complex. I still remember the look on the poor registrars face when I did my last disc and she was asking me about the sensation in my leg. Widespread neuropathy does make it a little hard to assess. Needless to say she ran off to confer with the consultant a bazillion times. In reality it's hard work on both sides of that breezy hospital gown. But all of it ends up with me preferring to dig my eyeballs out with a rusty spoon than go to the ED for treatment.

Add in the responsibilities of children and families and all that malarky, and I end up with a conversation of stupidity running through my mind every time.

Plus I'm tired. Really, really tired of this sick business. I actually can't recall the last time that I felt well. I can't recall when I didn't hurt, or feel nauseous, or dizzy or all the rest. And that kinda sucks. And I am over doctors and tests and all the other medical paraphernalia that you have to deal with when you are living with a complex chronic condition. Makes me a bad patient and my own worst enemy at times.

Now if ED doctor's looked and sounded like Dr Kovac on ER (does that show my age?) well I may just change my mind about ED visits. Because even a crappy "it's all in your head" would almost be worth it spoken in his delicious accent. Maybe I could put that in the hospital suggestion box?

Back to bed I go.
Michelle :)

Given how extra exhausted and brain deficient I've been the last few weeks, maybe month, I do now wonder if I am living more in Bradycardia. I don't usually take my readings unless I'm particularly crap or something changes so not sure. May be time for some more regular readings. 

Wednesday 6 June 2012

Compression stockings: From beige to brilliant.

After multiple requests for information on where I purchased my colourful compression stockings I thought it was time to do a post.
(This is Jade, from the Juzo soft Winter range. 
More green in really life, but as you can see goes well with my girly floral dress from ASOS
You'd never know they are actually medical grade compression stockings.)

I should add this is not a sponsored post (mind you I wouldn't knock one of those back. It would be nice to be able to pay for my own coffee just once). Nor is it an exhaustive list of brands and options. Instead it is a starting point, based on my personal experience, for those considering compression stockings for the first time, and those tired of the regular range of stockings and looking for a bit of spice and colour in their compression wear. If anyone knows of any other brands offering a bit of fashion let me know and I'll update the post. Your treating doctor should be able to advise you as to whether compression stockings may be helpful for the management of your form of Dysautonomia and the strength and type of stockings you may require.

One of the most common recommendations to help manage Dysautonomia is to use compression garments, in particular compression stockings. As a woman in her 30s having to wear something that is more associated with the elderly is rather disheartening. It is even more disheartening when you start looking for a pair and find that the majority are rather unattractive shades of beige. Oh, you can get your hands on white or black and occasionally a navy, but that is about it for the majority of brands on the market.

Why do so many of these companies think that a) only the elderly or post surgical patients wear these products and b) that if you require them you must automatically lose all fashion sense? Even as a granny I'd want to rock some sexy legs. Illness and infirmity are bad enough without adding dowdy to the mix.

Luckily a few companies are now starting to realise that there is a huge untapped market of patients who want to feel attractive as well as prevent cankles and pooling. Whilst the market is improving there are still few companies who provide even a semblance of fashion sense for higher strength compression hosiery.

But before you get to purchasing your compression stockings there are a few things you need to consider.

1. What length do you need?

Compression garments come in a variety of lengths. At their most basic these are: waist high, thigh high and knee high socks. Waist high is most commonly recommended and what I started with. (Waist high ones do have the added bonus of working like Spanx and give you a perky bum and smooth out your saddle bags.) However, if like me you have chronic gastric issues and permanent abdominal pain, waist high stockings can be incredibly uncomfortable. I now choose thigh highs simply for the comfort factor and find that they still make a discernible improvement in my ability to function and remain upright.

You can also find toeless and footless compression stockings. Great if you want to wear thongs (flip flops for my US readers) in Summer. My only word of caution would be if like me, you have significant pooling issues and poor vascular flow, you can end up with very fat, very purple toes hanging out the bottom of your stockings. Not the most attractive look, or the healthiest option for your toes.

If you choose thigh highs or other non-full length options be aware that the band that holds up the stocking can be made from a range of products including silicon and latex. If you have allergies this may need to be taken into account.

Whilst this post is specifically about compression stockings it should be noted that there are also abdominal binders and a range of upper limb garments (love the fashionable range of full sleeves and gauntlets from LympheDivas and wish they did stockings as well, plus they now have an Australian distributor) which may be useful if your pooling extends to the upper body, and full body compression suits, similar to the G suits favoured by pilots.

2. What strength compression do you require?

Depending on your level of pooling you may require different levels of compression. Your treating doctor will be able to best advise you on the strength you require based upon your particular medical situation.

Compression levels are measured in mmHg which refers to millimetres of mercury. (One millimeter of mercury is approximately 1 torr, which is 1/760 of standard atmospheric pressure.)

For some, sports compression garments such as Skins may suffice. These are easily accessible both in store and online and may be a good starting point for those tossing up whether or not, compression garments may be for them. One thing to consider with these type of garments are the multiple seams in the structure of the garment. Whilst for many this may not be an issue, if your vascular flow is particularly poor or your skin is sensitive, these seams can leave bruises and sore spots, something I found out the hard way.

If you only need a small amount of compression (eg 15-20mmHg) there are more options available. For example, the UK company Happy Healthy Legs offer a range of lower strength fashionable compression stockings in the 15-20mmHg range. Other companies such as Rejuvahealth and Juzo also offer fashionable compression hosiery in this range.

Moderate strength (20-30mmHg) fashion options are available from both Rejuvahealth and Juzo. This is really the minimum strength recommended for Dysautonomia management.

Juzo were the only brand I came across that had higher strength (30-40mmHg) colourful compression stockings. Whilst there are even higher strength compression stockings available I haven't been able to find any that come in either bright colours or patterning.

If you want to compare a wide range of brands (more than I can cover in one post) and stocking types Compression is definitely a great starting point. I use them and it is also the company that I've heard the most positive feedback about from fellow patients.

3. Sizing.

Every brand has their own sizing. Check out their sites for instructions particular to each brand. If possible get someone else to measure for you. When I purchased my first pair of waist high Jobst stockings the pharmacist did the measurements. I had no idea how many they needed to take for accuracy. The tips I took from that early experience are: measure both legs separately (some people have one legs that is significantly different from the other) and measure twice or even more. I've also found that if your measurements cross over two sizings it pays to get the smaller size. With time and frequent use there will be some stretching.

Here in Australia if you are purchasing stockings for the first time and are unsure, most local chemists will be able to size and order them for you.

4. Cost.

Medical compression stockings are expensive. Pay with a kidney or first born son, type of expensive. So you want to work out exactly what you want and get your sizing right. Additionally, when buying certain products eg some of the Juzo soft coloured range, they are dyed for individual purchase and have a no refund or return policy.

Depending on your country of residence and insurance company, you can request a prescription from your doctor for your stockings and claim a set number of pairs under your insurance every year.

For those outside the US or UK you also need to factor in the postage when purchasing stockings online, and this can vary widely. For example, UK company Happy Healthy Legs charges a flat fee of £10 for international purchases, US company Compression which sells multiple brands and is a great starting point (also great customer service from my dealings with them), charge around $5 per item postage to Australia, whilst Rejuvahealth, also from the US charge a highly prohibitive rate of $39 for postage to Australia (I did contact the company about this, but they were adamant they were unable to make postage cheaper).

I would say that cost is indicative of quality when it comes to compression stockings. In the long term it can be more financially sound to buy one pair of the expensive stockings than to buy 10 pairs of cheaper versions that lose their compression quickly or have poor or haphazard compression.

5. Comfort.

Compression stockings, fashionable or otherwise aren't always comfortable. They are hot, which is one reason I put off wearing them for a long time. When your body temperature is already set at Sahara they can be stifling. Having said that, I do find even going to thigh high did help lessen that somewhat, and they are fine in the cooler months. Sometimes you have to weigh up the heat factor with how much of a difference they can make to your functioning.

They are hard to put on and it can be exhausting, especially when you have weakness and fatigue. There are devices you can buy to help with putting them on, most companies selling compression stockings offer these. There are also multiple how to's on the Internet and YouTube.

Once on I find I don't really notice them anymore. Especially when you are wearing them every day you get used to the feel.

6. Care.

Caring for your compression stockings is easy. You can hand wash them and then leave them in a warm shady spot to drip dry. Or if like me, you have minimal hand strength, simply put them in a lingerie bag and pop them in the washing machine on the delicates/gentle cycle.

To avoid snags when putting them on, remove or cover rings and check for sharp edges on nails.

7. Now to the most important part, fashion options.

Personally, I've been buying the Juzo Soft colour range from Compression Their range do change based on the Northern Hemisphere seasons, and there is no guarantee that the same colours will be available the next season. If you are purchasing from Australia allow about 3 weeks for delivery of the coloured range eg violet and fuschia. Other traditional colours such as chocolate and shadow, are roughly a week from order to delivery. I now have cranberry and jade (from the Winter range) and chocolate, shadow and violet (from the Summer range) and am really happy with the vibrancy of the colours. They have been really well worn and washed repeatedly, and the colours have maintained their vibrancy and compression remains unchanged. They are a little long in the feet (I have tiny feet and long legs) but with some careful adjusting I can get them to sit and compress properly. This range is also one of the few that goes up to 30-40mmHg.

 (Love my new violet stockings from the Juzo soft Summer range.)
(Cranberry, from the Juzo soft Winter range. I wear these all the time.)

I love the Rejuvahealth range, and if I lived in the US would buy a few pairs. Who hasn't wished for some bright purple paisley compression stockings?  Or vintage lace? Their highest level of compression is 20-30mmHg. I don't have personal experience with these, so if any reader has, and can give some idea about quality and durability that would be great.

(photos from Rejuvahealth)

I have wondered about dying a pair of traditional beige or white compression stockings. I'd love a tie-dyed pair in funky rainbow colours. If anyone has tried this or has any suggestions on how to do this please let me know. (see Juzo soft tie-dyed in Update below).

Or, if it's possible to add some small appliqué to add detail, without messing with the compression?

So there you go. A small starting point to finding some fashionable compression stockings. Hopefully more companies will come to the table and offer more fashionable options, not only in stockings but other devices that the ill or disabled require. We may be unwell but we still want and deserve to look fabulous.

Michelle :)

NB: I have also purchased compression stockings from Jobst in regular black and they too are a great quality brand. The have maintained their compression and look good as new even after 2yrs wear. 

Update: Juzo Soft now do a fabulous range of tie-dyed stockings with either colour background white pattern or black background coloured pattern. I purchased a scarlet with white pattern earlier this year and must say I love them. 

Update: Chic Compressions are now doing  Mediven swarovski crystal encrusted compression stockings (highest rating 23-32mmHg) with a choice of 13 and in 3 crystal patterns, Opera, Fanfare and Symphony (shown below). A little on the pricey side but fantastic for that special occasion. So for example if I picked Size I, thigh high with lace top, in vivo, with fanfare crystal embellishment it would cost £117.50 ($209.75 AUD) not including postage. So really only a special occasion eg wedding stocking.


Svigardis also have patterned in higher level compression. For example: Allure Patterned Thigh High 20-30mmHg in Indigo below.

And you can't talk about fashion without a bit of classic David Bowie.

Tuesday 5 June 2012


Is there a word to express the last few weeks? Nope nothing that does it justice. It's just been one thing after another and 'Ugh' seems about as close as I can get. One of my favourite bloggers, the awesome Kelley, from Magnetoboldtoo, wrote a post about onomatopoeia a while back and it's stuck with me. Sometimes life can really be best described as a collection of ughs and oomphs and blarghs.

I coud regale you with the crapfest but that would bore you silly, I know it bores the crappola out of me. Drama sucks. Fatigue bites the big one. Because I'm a champ I even managed to combine that with yet another bout of laryngitis (is that the 53rd or 98th time this year?) and even buggering my right hand, kneading dough of all things. This has meant little in the way of brain functioning. Little in the way of responding to comments on blogs, or FB or Twitter. Little in the way of standing, or personal hygiene (luckily we had a rat die under the floor boards, or in the wall, the stench is too strong to pin point, so Eu de Dead Rat, trumps any personal miasma I may be generating).

Yesterday, I reacted maturely to my situation by sitting in the garden in the misty rain, sipping coffee, in my pjs and red, sparkly flats. It was my "FU Universe" moment. Today's body tanty would suggest that that was probably not the best plan of action when recovering from a bug, but it was good in the moment.

So on that note I shall return to the batcave and hibernate until the world is filled with rainbow farting unicorns and glittery cup cakes and margaritas with little umbrellas served by hot cabana boys, once more. Or till the meds kick in.

And because my dogs amuse me and the look on their faces is priceless.

I've been listening to Florence on loop this past week. This may come close to trumping Dog Days are Over as my new shout it out song.