Dominance.

Being left handed can be like introducing yourself as the alien that no one can really trust. I went to catholic schools, after the days when they used to tie your left arm behind your chair, happened to my nan, trying to force the left from you. Though those days were gone, there was always a feeling that I wasn't quite right, or it could have been that sister Ann who taught me for two years, couldn't stand me. 5 through 7, great days. Being left handed is very useful in some sports, cricket and baseball particularly.

 Normal jobs? can be a bit bollocky. Can't be an electrician, death and such. My dental hygienist, who is left handed, had to learn right handed. It makes a major difference having a left handed dental hygienist. Anybody who is left handed could tell you why. That's why right handed people look upon us with suspicion.When you tell them, "It's just different," eyes narrow, and torches begin to burn behind their eyes. The most left handed people you will find gathered together are in the arts. Why is that? Is it some dark connection to the unknown? No, its because the arts are a place where the hand you write with doesn't matter. 

This came up, as I'm researching hand / eye dominance and its effects on dyslexia. The effect having a dominant right eye whilst being left handed, or the reverse, has on learning skills. They talk about patching an eye until the dominant is back in control. Sounds like strapping your arm behind a chair to me.

Sunday Racing.

I don't get to watch motor racing very often. This morning began with the Monaco GP, I'm now onto the Indy 500. I love it. My arms and legs are so screwed that even thinking about driving is difficult. Watching drivers bombing around the track, 200mph+ at the Indy 500, is a pleasure and until the rush for the flag, relaxing. The final rush, pulse throbbing, heart rate up? Great!!!

Fact.

The weather is acting oddly. Fact. Climate change is happening. Fact. There are people who do terrible things defended by religion. Fact. Repeating bullshit over and over makes it accepted by some of the populace. Fact. Those who shout are reported over those who have thought things through. Fact. For many, truth is whatever someone else yells it is. Fact. The word fact is a lot weaker in a bleating self opinionated world. Wrong. You can believe whatever crap you like, in the end you are going to look like someone who has thought about what you see, or a blind idiot wandering towards the cliff edge of time.

Sleep.

A friend of mine asked yesterday, "When do you sleep?" Fair question, I've gone through years of getting little sleep or, when I had insomnia for a month,, practically none. Living in America and having access to the internet, gives me the opportunity to communicate any hour of the day or night. It can look like I don't sleep at all. Actually, I sleep now far more than I have for years. Its not in the usual way, I sleep when I know I have to and don't follow any particular regiment. I know most everybody has to set their sleep patterns around what the know they have to do in the morning.
 I set mine by just how bad my MS is kicking on any particular day. I do this because I've learned the hard way what MS fatigue actually is, how trippy and scary things will get if I don't listen. I do sleep, but not in a traditional way. Suits me, I can't stand tradition, which I've always seen as repeating the same boring thing over and over, because, that's what we do!. Of course, I may have slept through most of that.

Modern-ish.

We sit at the beginning of a new technology which connects us all, whether we like it or not. I can write what I like and have it read by people I will,  most likely never meet,  from places I may never go. I can  write any hour of the day or night, knowing someone is up somewhere. I can see how many people read what I'm waffling about, and where they are from. I don't know who the vast majority are. I don't know how I'm being interpreted. All this gets easier the more I do it. I think the world was always this way. No one knows what anyone will make of what they present, but is quietly pleased to be heard. The faster connection becomes, the more crap we can spray over a wide area, but it does mean discovering something new and fresh  is a keystroke away. I still like second hand bookshops and charity shops myself, thats the luddite in me.

Austerideath

Austerity has caused needless deaths, while governments' claimed to be tackling The Problem, which they caused. Finland's response to fiscal woe was investment in their country and making sure the social safety net was tight.  England did this in the past, forming the National health Service, which we are now busy dismantling. History is not going to be kind. Finland's response? The only smart move anybody made.

Saturday. Fuck Yeah!

due to the subtle pavlovian training of my pooch, I was up at 6am, despite the fact she is not here. I played Kermode and Mayo's film reviews. They reviewed the documentary, Beware Of Mr Baker, the life and times of ginger Baker, I knew I had to see it. I was busy figuring out how to do that, when I found the film on demand. Its fucking brilliant. Ginger is one of the best drummers ever, and burns through life like an wayward comet, laying waste to everything in his path. Despite the destruction the message stays the same, he's just here for the music. I look at his path, and outside of the heroin addiction, had I been well, its one I would have taken. Unlike him, I'd probably already be somewhat dead.

I've always loved skill and commitment, and now I live in the certain knowledge that if things go wrong with what I'm doing I die, I find I'm more engaged than I ever was. The choice that people who take Tysabri look at is this; live out loud and risk death, or live with everything slowly dying inside you. Anyone who has made the choice will tell you, its worth the risk. Of course, this may be my last written statement, if my luck runs out. Weirdly enough, that does make me grin.

Audience.

Blogger lets me see where the audience reading what I write are America has the most, not a surprise. England comes fourth, which is kind of bless. What surprised me is that Russia comes in second and Germany comes in third. I have no idea who is actually reading what I write. I have five followers, but a lot of readers. What has been really cool, is that every now and again someone will approach me and tell me that they enjoy what I write. Its often because of the MS references, which i think some find helpful. Helps me as I've decided to voice what actually goes on, with little cover up. Russia?? Cool.

Week ended.

This morning i have breakfast with Feather to look forward to. This is great, as I know the day is basically going to be dusted out fairly early. Its because I've been doing a lot, for me, in the past couple of weeks. I knew the crash was coming, but exercising was really good, getting my teeth fixed was necessary and being social, vital.
So, i know the weekend is looking fairly housebound. This happens a lot. In the past I've sulked my way through, until things sort themselves out and I can go out again, until The MS pulls me in. I've decided this may not be a great use of my time. I now   spend the enforced downtime learning and writing. At the moment i find myself watching a lot of Inside The Actor's Studio. I love hearing how people approach their craft. The one thing that constantly comes up, which I've always believed, is that listening is the most important thing you do. years ago I was in a bar with my guitar teacher Chris who I've known since I was 10. He looked at me and said, "Si, you listen to everything, don't you?" I didn't realize at the time but he was 100% right. I think its the most important thing that I do. The rest of it is figuring out how to understand and apply what I've heard. And make shit up.

Inter Sulk

My internet has decided to sulk. I’ve expected too much and its not doing nothing until I realise how important it is.  Then it will bring up stuff thats fun but un-necessary when it feels like appreciated, and not before.  There is a theory that we are 3 days without power away from apocalypse. The internet sped this up. How do I know if people are laughing out loud?  Whose relationship is complicated? Who has a show I don’t give a fuck about? When is on? I need to know. I really don’t. Maybe taking a break from convincing myself I’m doing something when I’m really not isn’t a bad idea at all. Of course, its back on now. As you were.

Storm Warning

The crash of whatever damage is being done outside in the dark, which no one can do anything about, did give me pause. Yesterday I went to aqua therapy which I really like. There were a few things i noticed that had been happening for a while. My MS is taking my hands, feet and locking my right leg up a little. Sleep is all over the place, though it always was and recurring ache at the back of my head, though not awful, does give imminent certain death more thought than it deserves.
For some reason I drank the coffee I had left from breakfast late last night and then watched a ton of interviews with actors and comics online. I love watching performers talk about their art and it was a good distraction from what I know is coming. Not the death thing, but the MS which  is waiting to put in a bit of a show. Bollocks. Of course, storms pass. I'm going to go with that.

Overnight Paving.

Things can be shitty during the day. Sleep should be a respite from what ever brand of crap you are currently juggling. Maybe your way to sleep was drinking, in which case you know you are going to pay the next morning. If the problem you are having is due to start the next morning, a brief lull can develop into a resigned pit in your stomach. This morning, I didn't sleep particularly well last night. I ate breakfast and drank coffee over the last few hours. I'm going to Aqua Therapy today. I haven't thought the through. So, if you are feeling a bit shitty,  and have to face the object of night mare today?Fuck 'em. They will have probably have spent their early morning staring into the bathroom mirror until their face turns into a skull. And lay off the coffee.

Nerd Miner

I was listening to Wire, and then watched a documentary on them, where Colin Newman talked out his band Githead. Listened to a few of their tracks which I really liked. some of the members were in a band from Israel called Minimal Compact, who did well in Europe and college radio in America, but never came to England. Watched a documentary in English and Israeli about them. Now watching a gig at The Theatre Club in Tel Aviv 2003. I love unearthing bands like this. Never heard of them before today, right up my street.

Pressure Folly

When I'm on my own, as I am this week, the risk I'm running to feel better does spin around the back of my mind, surging forth every now and again. I know the option is zero if this goes wrong and is certain death. Blimey, that'll sober you up, right quick. You would think I'd be sitting around in a quiet panic waiting for the inevitable. You'd be wrong. Like anyone who has come to this drug, I've weighed up the risk against the benefit, and I'm in. Doesn't mean that certain death doesn't occur to me every now and again, does mean I'd rather take that risk than just sit in a body that is shutting down around me. I said to Williams, "If you thought I took no shit off of anyone before? Wasn't even close. Dancing right on the edge of the abyss focuses the mind and has reduced my tolerance for bullshit to way less than zero. Its a good tribute to mycomedic training, that I can keep my mouth shut at all. Anyway, back to The Who - Tommy which I've always really liked. As follies go, winner.

Awake. Out Awake.

I was doing a load of stuff sometime today. Then? Dunno, I do know I just woke up and realised I've got to late afternoon/early evening pretty quickly. It was a good sleep, unexpected, but quite nice. Can't do this tomorrow, as I've got to get myself to aqua therapy. Good day was it? I miss anything dramatic? Going on the news cycle of the last couple of weeks, I may have slept through people emerging having been held hostage for years, new politics bollocks, entire countries vanishing. Could be anything. And the weather is still shit.

Turning Circle

5:24pm Awake again, day dusted out, as I suspected. Now quite peppy, but with the feeling of a slide back into sleep certain, but the timing not. Blimey, those sentences look like I haven't woken up at all, the construction of some entity attempting pass as human in an Earth invasion blockbuster. My mind is flooded with ideas, all calling for attention. The idea which sits waiting to break the spin around the circle? The Heath Klondike bar I've got in the freezer. Intellect versus food? Food always wins, though I've thought through exactly why that is. Turning Circle.

Dusting.

its 10:16am. I've just got back from a great breakfast with Joe. I know this day is already done for me. I can feel all sorts of red flags springing up across my arms and legs, if I don't call it in right now the risk of the awful is high. Am I upset about that? good question. Its irritating, annoying, but its not unusual. I've had to call in a lot of things I'd thought I'd be doing this year already, so dusting a Monday isn't really that big a deal. The quiet worry is that i keep getting a headache in the back of my head. I think its because I'm waiting for my new crown to be fitted. The option isn't really not good. I do have The Hobbit to watch and Radio 6 to listen to, so, not so bad.

Sunday Funday.

This morning, sitting in my kitchen as I am now, though I'm now listening to Kermode and Mayo's film review show, my right leg went into a massive spasm. I dould physically do how fast it shook on purpose. This happened twice and then shuffled off, having done its job. The job as to wipe out Sunday, job done. Then Stewart phoned me up, I said I couldn't go out so brunch was a wash. He responded by bringing brunch to the house. Lovely. we then watched Doctor Who, The Hobbit, which I slept through then more Doctor Who. Stewart, having a job and such has now gone home. Cheers Stewart. As all my friends know, I'm not the kind of person who should be living in my own head for too long. Against all the odds, top Sunday.

Spasmtastic.

My morning has taken an interesting turn. I'm now exhausted, having had a massive spasm in my right leg. It came without warning, didn't last very long and has drained my energy like a bastard. I spent months in 2010 having spasms in my arms and legs 30-40 times a day. This was a minor twinge in comparison, a "Remember me?" more than anything.
The way spasms announced themselves when they in full flight was through a chill running through the appendage that was about to take a burton. I've been getting warning shots without follow through for a few weeks. Bugger. The follow through and the creeping chills, means today is pretty much dusted, as I recover. Monday anyone?

Saturday.

Beth's gone down to Illinois for the week. She left me loads of treats, which I've over done day one.  i did get to watch football all day, now onto Doctor Who, and eat the really good left over Thai food we bought yesterday. I've enjoyed the first couple of hours,  when the house is mine, now I'm looking forward to Beth and Abbey coming back. Klondike bars and chocolate? They will see me through, once I can look at them again.

Sexual Eating.

Though I keep saying to myself that performing is done, i keep finding new ways to think about doing it again. The idea of a comedy brunch has been sitting in the back of my mind for ages. I performed at one that didn't work out in London years ago. It was at a Mexican restaurant, I don't think the diners were ready for comedy and chimichangas that early in the day. I do think Bacon and eggs might work. Figuring out the level is the trick. I'm fairly sure egg and bacon don't really go with a harried sex life routine. Though it does depend where you are pitching it. Hmm...

Thunder Abbey.

Awake. Sat in my kitchen watching lightning light up the night. Having got me to wake up, and sit with coffee, the kitchen door open, enjoying the rain, thunder and lightning, the storm has now pissed off. I name this storm Abbey. My pooch wakes me up early every morning, I'm waiting for her to stir and stare me down until the food arrives. She then usually insists its playtime, for about an hour, then goes  back to the front room, deep sleep. Don't tell her, but the early morning starts are really helping me out. The storm can piss off though.

Word Fries

Grabbed a cab over to the linguistics centre earlier today. It got to my house quick and dropped me there very quick, following a horn fusillade of near death experience. On time. Good. Then an hour and a half or so of saying what I saw followed by guessing what they said, 4 times. Trickier than you'd think. Got home, hamburger, immediate coma. Still Thursday right? I've got loads of brain melting stuff to do tomorrow.

Delayed.

MS doesn't mean you have to give up on your dreams, though it can feel that way. I didn't sleep tonight because MS will do that every now and again. Its a recurring moment, when the true depth of the trouble I'm in, sits up and requests a good look. I had any number of plans for this year, I managed Jamaica, I'm making my way through the health stuff I have to do, but most of the more extravagant ideas have been put on ice. Its been that way for years, having to delay constantly, until I'm able to pay whatever price is coming. I know it'll work out, I figured doing the Tysabri would buy me more space. Its made a massive difference, but the damage its fighting is considerable. 

Right, I feel a bit better, i hate whinging. Coffee I think. And chocolate cereal.

Work Eat Sleep Wake

This morning, I went to my second aqua therapy. I've always loved swimming, I'm very comfortable in the water. I worked my arse off for an hour in the warm water of the therapy pool. I then got out and realised just how hard I'd been working. Trundled back to the changing room got dressed and went out to meet Beth. Whilst waiting for her I watched the hum of the hospital, people going back and forth, some doing ok, some not so well, but all looking for a better way forward.
Slumped into Beth's car intending to come straight home. Changed my mind. went for lunch at the Skillet. Great lunch, back to the house, passed out. Woke up, realised it was still Wednesday. Went upstairs and did the full body scan meditation, I've booted onto my iPod. An hour passed, I didn't notice. Now awake. What next?

Loving the lose.

I've learned more by losing than I ever did winning. I learned how useful failing is, doing comedy. The gigs that didn't work are where I learned the most about what I was doing. Gigs that go fantastically well are great and a lot of fun, but they never taught me very much. Rooms that just stared, or piled in,  was where I built the skills for the gigs I really enjoyed.
The reason I did comedy was because MS had taken my hands away. I was a musician until then. I felt tired all the time and figured that stand up was a good bet as I only had to perform for 20 minutes a night. I'd started out by doing improv. A failed relationship pushed me to do that. Having performed with a troupe in some ropey pubs, where our presence was less than heralded, I went for stand up.
I did the Jackson's Lane Comedy workshop. The first class, I failed, as  badly as you can imagine. I went back to the second class slightly late. My comic demise of the previous week had become a "Bless him, never mind.." before I got there. I sat at the back of the room, hoping not to be called upon. I was. Up again, the crap of the week before began to fall. Something happened. I played the fail of the first class, it was the best performance I did. It was then I knew I really wanted to be a comic, and what it what going to take to do it.
I use the lose all the time, I find I'm more comfortable coming from a weaker position. That's how I deal with MS all the time. Unless I don't. Depends on the day...

Use.

Surround yourself with the echo of your own opinion. Ignore any dissent. Shout a little louder. More echo. You've got as far as you are going to get. Learning over, usefulness to the development of humanity, less than negligible. Your use, if any, is to inspire the kick back against tired old ideas, you, pushing the world forward a little. Blimey, this morning's coffee isn't working at all. Happy Bank Holiday to my mates in England. There, that's a little chummier. x

Future Proof.

The NRA's victory lap conference, as they left needless death as a force for? I sat wondering, what if you could flash forward the future lives that just got dusted out? Maybe there was a kid who was going to do something that would change the world, maybe it was just a kid who would grow up, get married, have kids, and a new set of people would be born. Didn't have to be spectacular, just had to be. Or, leave the gun seller's shills bleating, and letting multiple future possibilities lie bleeding out, while we all look on and say, "Oh, that's terrible!" and carry on waiting for next time, hoping we can see it at distance. History is not going to be kind to this shite.

Sunday.

Today was a rest preparing for the week ahead. Yoga Monday, Aqua Therapy Wednesday and Friday, followed by mindfulness meditation and such. A few years ago I'd have knocked it all back, leaving that horseshit for others. Having infused me death drug for 10 months and seen the benefit, I'm far more inclined to take help. The drug can't do all the work. know. I tried. Doesn't mean I'm a super clean living sort, does mean I'm far more inclined to give ideas outside of "Ride it out! Then go drinking!" a try. Don't really know what this means, I am willing to find out.

Box Salad Trickery

It claimed to be from Santa Fe. All the elements were in front of me, in their own individual boxes. Add them all together, hello Santa Fe salad! The taste of the south! Or, cue fiddly boxes spraying sauce and lettuce at will. salad sulking feeling the box is, "Keeping my talent under a bushel..." Fight ensues, a blizzard of uncooperative lettuce and salad sections. Salad contained. Phew. Now, eat it? Tricky.

Saturday Shopping.

There is something about shopping on a Saturday. I know the best time to go to the supermarket is early in the morning, whizz around grab the shit that I've convinced myself I  need for the week and get home for breakfast. Not yesterday. Beth and I managed to time it just right in the evening, 8 until 8:40 when the desperate, late idea shoppers arrived. The ideas are often how useful it would be to have toilet roll in the house, and some beer to go with that, would be great.
Our shopping cart is usually a mix of healthy food, things we need around the house, and whatever I threw in when I got bored. Today was chocolate milk, Snowville, lovely, and marshmallows that I spotted out of the corner of my eye, they sang of how good they were with Graham crackers, which I forgot. And a lot of crisps.
The Starbucks was shut, the store was beginning to run as the tragic end/beginning? of an over stuffed badly ventilated club night. Home in one piece, choccy milk ahoy!

Tysabri.

Yesterday I was talking to someone I'd never met before who also has MS. He asked what drug I was doing. I said Tysbari. He said, "The death drug?" Immediately. This gave me pause for thought. I've known since I began taking Tysabri that the downside if things go wrong, is death. I've checked to see if they overstated the case, no they did not. There is a possibility of picking up the PML virus, which cannot be cured, and will kill you. Knowing this, I'm happy to take the risk. Why?
 I went to YouTube to see if anyone had put stuff up. If you want to scare the crap out of yourself, put Tysabri into the search engine. If you can stay with it, you will notice that everyone who does the infusions says the same thing. Its the best treatment available and its worth the risk. Everyone I've come across doing the infusions is perfectly aware of the risk they take, but would prefer to live alive, running the risk of a rapid end, than live dead for longer. Its weirdly comforting to know I'm pushing as hard as I can, that there is no other way, and it is what it is.

11pm again.

I  remember getting back home. i remember enjoying a Katzinger's sandwich.I remember telling Beth I couldn't go out. I remember putting Resident Evil 2 on. I remember thinking, that was a packed day, and that was it, until I just woke up.
 I feel the work that I did in the pool yesterday morning, and the meditation stuff I did later in the day was really useful, but it has to be paid for. For me that's the interesting thing about MS, the risk and price calculation that goes on constantly. Its made me a super realist.I look at everything knowing its going to cost and try to work out whether I'm prepared to pay.  All performing cost me days, weeks, months and I was happy to pay at the time. Well, not happy exactly, I just knew that was the deal. The devil handed out the tap shoes and I danced as long as I could. Now I dance a little more carefully, looking to keep going for as long as I can. When the break gets called I take it, where I would have ignored it and pushed on regardless before. Then, I wake up and I'm reset for another go. 11pm again.

Loaded.

Today was very busy, which is on the odd side for me. Up early-ish, in a swimming pool doing Aqua Therapy. "I know you can swim Si, you're going to hate this." "What?""No swimming." Wha'? Its a swimming pool. And, swim I did not. I did do a load of exercise in a heated pool, until pity was taken. Looking forward to Wednesday, "No swimming. Harder..." Ok. Then onto a lovely lunch, then down to my mindfulness class/session? which looks like its really going to work out. Now home, knackered, prepared for a lot of nowt. Sandwich from Katzingers, Bill Maher on later. Relax.

Morning Prep?

I am up early. I'm always up early. I've been up for a while. I get to listen to the BBC World Service going over stories that don't get covered during the day. I read the Guardian and The Independent, which get delivered to my Kindle every day. I sit, listen. read and spend some time tutting, "Really..?!" This morning it was Stewart Hall confessing to his predatory antics from decades ago. 83 years old and finally bought to account. About time, but it does knacker happy memories of Its A Knockout. Those silly games now look like a road map we should have read a long time ago. The cases are coming up thick and fast, you could think English entertainment was riven with awful bastards. I think there were some who used their fame for the awful. I also think that it will give anyone else a massive pause for thought before acting like that ever again.
Coffee in. Day prep under way. Today is busy,  aqua therapy this morning, mindfulness what not at the Psychotherapy institute this afternoon. The mindfulness thingy, I would have kicked to the kerb as bullshit, not so long ago, I'm still looking at it waiting for the "Live this way!" that I will dust immediately.  I am open to accepting help in a way that I never did before. I am still programmed to call bullshit as soon as I see it. Not so far though. That should fill the day.

Bruisetastic

Yesterday, as my infusion line was being plugged in, I told my infusion nurse that I'd fallen down the stairs early in the day. She smiled. "That, Si, is going to hurt. Not yet, but it really will." She then loaded the drugs into my blood.
I slept through the infusion, having had an unexpected mouth reconstruction the day before and the MS stuntman routine of the early morning, I fancied a nap.
Woke up drugged then spent the extra hour knocking about to check I wasn't going to drop dead. Death avoided, came home. All I wanted was a hamburger. This was incredibly important and took my mind off what I knew was coming. Burger acquired, the Woody Allen from Easy Street with Greek fries. Nice. Upstairs watching Ashes to Ashes, which I really like, letting the feeling I knew was getting worse sit as quietly as it could at the back of my mind. Fell asleep. Woke up, bruising now in full flight, twinging where ever it liked. No black eye, odd as MS falls have been accompanied with a black eye constantly over the last 4 years. Maybe that's why the pain took a while to take hold. No black eye, no place to focus.
The drugs are doing their job with a shrug. "What have you been doing?" and the day has started. Bruisetastic.