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Bees, Fleas and a lot of Brainkillers

Record released on 2003-08-11 at 6:13 p.m.

A bleed is a bit like going on a holiday. A really, really bad one. Your accommodation is one hazy bubble is pain. There's plenty of entertainment laid on for you in the form of cartoons you can't stand and a series of '...From Hell'-style programmes that make you feel worse than you did before, and you have three meals a day included in the package: two dry biscuits, half a bowl of soup and - whoopie - another dry biscuit. And the weather - of course, the weather is nothing short of tropical! Trying to deal with not throwing up from the pain while the weather is breaking all-time records in the area is of course a rare treat on such occasions - and one I hope not to have to repeat too often!

Seriously, these last few days have been foul. I've hardly been online and I've not been anywhere near diaryland since wednesday. Thank you to my wonderful Y for standing in for me yesterday - I appreciated that my love, especially the timely return of 'Vand Neesteroyd'! My apologies to everyone for not being around, reading diaries or signing guestbooks or whatever this week. Today is the first time that I've been able to sit at the computer (instead of on the floor) and it's going to take a long time to get caught up on everything.

However, I have been unfairly forced back to the computer from my sickbed in order to set the record straight about certain allegations involving cartoons that I may or may not have been watching! And whilst I am at it, I may as well also cover the intreguing subject of how I have gotten through the last five days with my sense of humour more or less intact. There are gory bits, I make no apology for that. If you have a strong stomach, read on.

So there I am on Wednesday morning, pissed off with the fact that my body has decided an early bleed is in order. Wednesday comes and goes, and night-time arrives. By this point the co-proxamol has already buried itself deep into my consciousness and the room is all spinning around and making faces at me as I'm laying there in a brain-killer haze, grinning inanely as the pain increases. I have to say that co-proxamol barely takes an edge off the pain, but it does succeed in removing my last remaining brain cells.

I just about managed to get to sleep, slipping in and out of consciousness until half past four, at which point I woke up in agony. The type that makes you feel sure that several large organs have just been removed from your body. And at four o clock in the morning, you feel very alone with it. It's just you against your body. You're in different corners.

"A-a-a-a-a-and in the Blue Corner, it's..... Miranda-a-a-a-a-a! Five foot six, weighing in at one hundred and twelve pounds, with a grip that can crush a human hand to pulp, but the inability to change a TV channel even when one of the worst cartoons in existence comes on! A-a-a-a-a-a-a-and in the Red Corner, it's..... Miranda's Stupid Organs! Undefined weight and height but with the ability to force a fully-grown woman to watch endless episodes of Lloyd In Space against her will!"

I tried to ignore it for half an hour. Tried to wish it away. I curled up into increasingly small balls of Mirandaness, clenching my fists and almost snapping my Nail Of Superhuman Growing Ability in half (I'm going to take a photo of it to prove how long it is - it's super-freaky) but nothing helped. In the end, I slipped off the bed, crawled to the toilet and sat down, only for the full flow to start. Ugh. Ten minutes later, I crawled all the way back to my bedroom, mountaineered back onto my bed (I almost needed mountain-climbing equipment, such as a harness and a pick) took a brainkiller and then made the mistake of reaching for my remote control with actual hope that I might find something on to keep me amused whilst I waited for the painkillers to knock me out.

And what options did I have?

Infomercials, infomercials, more infomercials, a programme about mathematical theories, Nightscreen, George Foreman grills on QVC...... Oooh, and Knightmare on Challenge.

Knightmare! Excellent!

Erm..... Not excellent.

It was a Pickle episode.

As I laid there, my knees scrunched up into my chest and writhing in agony, I wanted to strangle the little chap with threads woven together from Tregard's beard.

The other problem I had was that I couldn't even employ my usual practice of putting on the electric blanket to use heat to help soothe the pain a little because the air itself was being a bit of an all-over electric blanket so I couldn't get any relief at all. I laid there for the next two hours, watching Pickle on Knightmare, Julian on QVC and two sodding episodes of The Hoobs. Finally, just before seven, I passed out at long last and managed to grab a few minutes of sleep. Until....

"BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!"

As I didn't remember installing some heavy road-drilling equipment in my bedroom at any point over the last few weeks, I concluded that it was a bee which had just rudely awoken me from my dregs of sleep. It was a burning hot night, I'd left my windows open so it wasn't unexpected, but when I spun around the silhouette of the bee in question made me literally reel in horror.

It was one mother-fuckin' giant beast of a bee.

I have never seen a creature that size in all my life. It was the size of a small mouse. I tried to ignore it but it had a volume to match its size and in the end I had to crawl out of bed, peel back the curtains and try to shoo the thing out of the window. But not only was it the loudest, largest bee in the world, it was also the most stupid. It decided sitting in the ridge where the window was supposed to close back up was a fun thing for bees to do, so I had to persuade him to take a dive.

Not sure he was too happy about that, mind you.....

Thursday and Friday were spent in pretty much the same way as each other, with me in serious pain which also made me feel violently sick. My scrumptious meals included half a bowl of soup and a couple of biscuits, which I only ate because I absolutely had to in order to take my brainkillers. The brainkillers, however, were having a smashing time with my brain. When I was able to do a little writing, I managed to invent the concept of a flea channel. So serious was I about this idea that I not only ended up all itchy but also have convinced myself that somewhere on the channel line up is a National Flea channel, complete with jumping ident in the corner and a selection of flea spin-offs.

Fleaenders? Coronation Fleas? Fleammerdale?

I'm sorry.... as you may be able to imagine, I am still on the brainkillers here....

On saturday, I took a turn for the worse. I was in more pain than I'd ever been in in my life. I didn't move from my bed until seven at night. I literally couldn't. It was the most unbelievably horrid day of my life. I'm ashamed to say that I was in so much pain that I actually cried. I just didn't know what the hell to do. Nothing eased it, even the tiniest bit.

This was the day on which I chose to parttake in the viewing of what I lovingly like to call; cartoons that I absolutely bloody hate!

You see, when you're feeling that bad, even changing a channel is a big deal. It wastes valuable screaming energy. So I settled upon Toon Disney, because Recess was on. Now, I like Recess. I've always liked Recess. But during their 'Block Party' of Recess (hours and hours of the same show) they managed to show all the episodes that were the most boring and none of the ones that I liked! This was followed by Lloyd In Space.

Lloyd in Space is a poor-man's Galaxy High. Y and I were recalling the joys of that series a few nights ago when I was bemoaning its poor imitation.

Because I was honestly in that much of a state that I could not change a channel I sat through three hours of Lloyd In Space! I swear that if I hear that bloody part of the theme tune where some git yells, "Run, Lloyd! Run for your life!" one more time then I will personally reach into the TV and strangle the little chap, so that he will have to rename his show Lloyd In A Coffin.

Don't even get me started on The Weekenders marathon....

Even when I finally did change the channel I found nothing better. When you are in that much pain I can assure you that one cartoon you really do not want to even see the name of is The Cramp Twins! ARGH!

By the time night came round again, I could finally move at least. But my television horrors were not over. Please can someone tell me how Hall and Oates' "I can't Go For That" managed to make VH1's Top 100 Songs of the Last 25 Years??

Yesterday I at least felt better than I had the day before. I suppose when you get to that point, the one comfort you can take is that at least you can't possibly feel any worse. Come yesterday I may have spent the day in a huddle in bed again but I did at least get to write. In fact, I finished book 101, which will always stick in my mind because apparently an area very nearby got up to 101 degrees yesterday. And I managed to avoid most of the awful cartoons yesterday, finding better ones instead (Arthur and Tazmania!) and football kept me amused in the afternoon.

Today, I feel a little more human. My bag is stocked full of co-proxamol, pads and an anti-Lloyd In Space forcefield ready for work tomorrow and I can at least rest easy with the knowledge that I will be having a far better weekend next time around, because Y is heading down on thursday, which will make up completely for this one. But at least the last few days have not been completely wasted.

For if I have convinced just one, loud bee not to wake up a poor, defenseless young human being, then it will all have been worth it.

Temporal disruption approaching, my friends. Time to drink my coffee before it either gets cold or becomes a swimming pool for the insects who have invited themselves in. I hope your weekend was good, and I shall be back soon - Brainkillers and all :)

What's On: Hold Me Now by the Thompson Twins

Next: Coffee time

Quote of the Moment: "And I thought the comedy boings were going to be as good as it got!"

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Starting Again? - 2005-06-11
Returning - 2004-08-16
Just Wondering - - 2004-07-30
Birthday - 2004-02-23
A New Year - 2003-12-31



grrr // Jaye
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All lyrics ramblings � Little Miss X, with painkillers on backing vocals, 'toises on drums and Izzles on the musical toilet rolls. And if you would like to know more about the music *I* enjoy, see my playlist. Best viewed in 800x600 and with a pair of eyes and a sense of humour.With thanks to Diaryland.

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