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.................................................................................................................................The next Fandance is Sat 18th May 2024......................................................................................................................
.....................................................................................................................................TO PAY YOUR MEMBERSHIP FEES .....................................................................................................................................Please set up a STANDING ORDER to: ............................................................................................................................... Lloyds Bank Sort code: 30-90-09 a\c No: 30516068
Having taken into account the current COVID restrictions that currently apply in the different parts of the UK, we have made the difficult decision to cancel the 2021 reunion.
The Chairman Nick Butler will be heading up the Fan at 0930 hrs on Saturday the 15th May and he will lay a BAFC wreath on behalf of the Club at the summit.
He will also toast The Fallen.
If other members wish to make their own pilgrimage up the Fan at their own risk please follow the relevant COVID restrictions that will be in place.
As a Club we are not able to accept liability for members safety and well being over the weekend of 14/15 May. Our Clubs insurance that normally covers Fandance will not operate this year.
Update to follow reference Aldershot 10 Miler on the 20th November 2021.
.........................................................................................................................The 10 Miler will be held on w/e Saturday 23rd November 2024........................................................................................
Just made an appointment with the opticians for 14 Jan, to see if all is well, then book up for the left eye to be done as well. Got to be honest it's not sore just feels a bit gritty but for the first time in years I can watch telly and walk about outside without using glasses. Just using specs for reading small print, so hopefully that may change once the other eye has been done. Cheers for the support lads much appreciated !
Made I larf Ron when you said about standing blindfolded at the side of the road. A mate in the village,Tom Holmes sadly now dead,was blind,and living opposite the pub used to stand and listen for traffic before confidently crossing. One day he stood listening,and hearing nothing,stepped out into the centre of a group of cyclists,incurring only a few bruises luckily,but his lone road crossing days were over,and from then on the barman's first job of the day was to pick Tom up and lead him to his stool!
Charlie, it's done with eye drops mate, no problem with it !
Thanks for the info Bob, I had visions of someone giving me an injection in the general area......eye drops don't sound too bad. Hopefully the pain is all imagined, rather than real?
I've been posted to Stanmore at long last, and they're putting another catheter back into me this afternoon, for "bladder training', and as I was unconscious when they put the last one in, 7 weeks ago, I'm wondering what that's going to feel like. They've already given me an injection to prevent an infection in the bladder, so I'm getting used to being punctured with both blunt and sharp instruments of torture,,,,,,Stanmore is very intensive compared to the last place!
They squirt a gel up your knob to numb it Charlie,so it's not too bad,although the first time I needed one for the stone blocking my piss tube I was sore after 5 attempts by 2 young docs to force different sized ones up there,before a big Nigerian doc used brute force to get it through into the bladder!
Just had it done this afternoon Pat, by a trainee nurse from Zimbabwe, who was being supervised by her guv'nor, a Nigerian woman called Patience, and a Bulgarian woman called something like Monica, and it was utterly painless, much to my astonishment and relief. That gel works !! I've got to train my bladder, which is a muscle, I was interested to hear, to expand after having a straight through catheter in for the last 7 weeks, so I can learn how to hold my piss (Urine retention, in the trade) longer than 30 seconds after feeling the need to pee. They fit a tap on it, and instead of opening the tap as soon as I feel the urge, I have to hold it for an hour, to force the bladder to expand, no matter how painful......weight training for the bladder, I suppose. They call it bladder training, and it's for people who've had to wear a catheter for a long time. Mine was in for 7 weeks......that's a long time!
Just had it done this afternoon Pat, by a trainee nurse from Zimbabwe, who was being supervised by her guv'nor, a Nigerian woman called Patience, and a Bulgarian woman called something like Monica, and it was utterly painless, much to my astonishment and relief. That gel works !! I've got to train my bladder, which is a muscle, I was interested to hear, to expand after having a straight through catheter in for the last 7 weeks, so I can learn how to hold my piss (Urine retention, in the trade) longer than 30 seconds after feeling the need to pee. They fit a tap on it, and instead of opening the tap as soon as I feel the urge, I have to hold it for an hour, to force the bladder to expand, no matter how painful......weight training for the bladder, I suppose. They call it bladder training, and it's for people who've had to wear a catheter for a long time. Mine was in for 7 weeks......that's a long time!
Did the Africans have a magnifying glass out and ask you how we honkies re-produce with something so small?
"We're surrounded on all sides... Good... you're obviously in the right place".
It,s the strength n power o the ejaculation that counts Don. Size o the feight in the dog syndrome, whan a young man a cud create stalegtites on the ceiling from the pit below when avin a wank. Sadly now just a slow dribble out but berra than nowt a suppose.
I had one of those 'Flip Flow' taps on my first one Charlie,in fact still have the spare one sitting beside me on the radiator,never know when you'll find a use for it! The only trouble with mine was it kept coming off,letting the piss flow at embarrassing moments,like in the queue at the tills,or while I was driving. You should be all right though on yer back! Hows the toe wiggling coming on?
To be honest Don, they seem too polite, which makes a change after Newham Hospital. The staff here are completely different from the staff there. Chalk and cheese really.
The toe wiggling is getting better, but I don't think the real physio will start until Wednesday. So far, all the guy has done is prod me on both sides of the body, with either a sharp bit of wire, or a blunt piece of plastic to see if I can tell the difference between blunt and sharp, then he uses a bit of rolled up tissue paper in the same way. This has been getting done every now and then since before the operation, to give them some idea how my situation is changing. They tell me nothing of course, but they take it very seriously, and write everything down. Tomorrow, it's going to be a strength test, then Wednesday, it'll be into the gym. They're talking about me being here for the next three months, so I'm going to be working hard to get the most out of it. The consultant told me today that they won't let me leave until they think I can't get any more out of the place. I've been in touch with the Fire Fighters Charity, who have their own physiotherapists, who say they want to have a go at me at one of their residential places when I get out of Stanmore, and I'm going to go for it, as I really would like to be able to walk again. No one will say whether it's possible though, so I've stopped asking. I'll just keep at it, and see what happens. I don't like to think of the future in a feckin' wheelchair, so I don't think about the future at all. I just give everything they tell me to do 100%, all the time, which they seem to like. They're even surprised that I can put my own socks on, so they're easily impressed.
Did you have any trouble after the catheter came out Pat? How long was yours in? I've never had one before, so am interested to hear how you got on after they took it out. If I ask any of the people here, they just say everyone's different, and get all non comital, which is fair enough. None of them has ever had one in themselves, so they can't talk from experience.They're talking about me having to use one I put in myself when I need a piss, in order to empty my bladder completely, but I'm hoping it won't come to that.......
I had one in for a couple of months, Charlie. You get so used to just pissing in the bag where you are without giving it a thought that i was worried that my bladder would forget what to do, but luckily it all works like clockwork. I rarely have to get up for a piss during the night now. A big improvement on the 8 times a night at one stage.
I have always set myself a very low standard, and constantly fail to achieve it.
I had one in for a couple of months, Charlie. You get so used to just pissing in the bag where you are without giving it a thought that i was worried that my bladder would forget what to do, but luckily it all works like clockwork. I rarely have to get up for a piss during the night now. A big improvement on the 8 times a night at one stage.
As i recall it Steve, that wasn't a formality you observed in the Sqn?
"We're surrounded on all sides... Good... you're obviously in the right place".
........................and still the NHS carryon regardless in very trying times. Well Done Bob and Findlay, I am sure it is and will be well worth it, just watch out for the Cryptonite lol!!
I had one in for a couple of months, Charlie. You get so used to just pissing in the bag where you are without giving it a thought that i was worried that my bladder would forget what to do, but luckily it all works like clockwork. I rarely have to get up for a piss during the night now. A big improvement on the 8 times a night at one stage.
Thanks for that Stephen, it's encouraging to know. Did they give you "bladder training"with a bag that had a tap on it, or were you just OK after the straight through catheter was removed? I desperately want to be pissing normally one day, and not needing to have a slash the moment I feel like it. I don't really fancy being the old geezer sitting in the corner, who reeks of piss.......
And Gil, I have to say, I was amazed at just how good the NHS has been to me, as far as the operation went, I seriously never thought that they'd bother with someone my age. If they could only teach some of the nurses ( just some of them, not all..) that they recruit from Sub Saharan African countries to be less surly and unpleasant, I would say it was pretty near perfect.
May be a bit of useful info here, Charlie (but probably not) It's been a funny old year..
Up until I reached the age of sixty, I was quite proud of the fact that I had barely set foot inside a hospital apart from to visit someone. I was moving along like a well-oiled machine, then it all changed. It was as if the world said, "where have you been hiding.?" Since then, I have had a knee op, two shoulder operations, a gallbladder removed, plus, several pop-ins with a back injury. For a few months, things seemed to be going along just fine, and then I started getting bladder trouble. It appeared to creep up on me. One minute I was sleeping all night, the next minute I was getting up five times a night and racing to the toilet. My doctor suspected that like with many men of my vintage, the prostate was to blame and immediately sent me off to have a PSA blood test, which happily showed no sign of cancer. Once that was out of the way he put me on some tablets to hopefully stop me racing to the toilet five times a night. Unfortunately, I still ran to the toilet five times a night, but once I got there, nothing happened. Now to me, that goes against the entire, racing to the toilet concept. What is the point if nothing happens once you get there.? Eventually, the nothing happening thing, worked so well that an ambulance had to rush me to the hospital where I had a catheter inserted and a urine bag strapped to my leg. Now, you will notice that I used the word 'urine' there. Up until that point, I had rarely used the word in my life. My wife and I have been together 40 years, and not only doesn't it seem a day too long, but also, I cannot recall us once having a urine discussion, which is strange, because since that day we have had many a romantic conversation on the subject. We have had many a debate about whether the 700 ml bag with a 30 cm tube is superior to the 500 ml bag with the 10 cm tube. Personally, I like the short tube worn high on the hip. It looks a bit like a holster. I am confident that when James Bond chooses a urine bag that is the one he chooses. Anyway, I digress. My doctor suggested ditching the first tablets and trying some others, and a visit to the urologist. Must admit I was a bit concerned, mainly because I should imagine nothing good ever comes from seeing the urologist. Once you get to the stage where you are sent to see the urologist, I should think it is a chance in a million that he is going to say, " you have the finest prostate I've ever seen, thanks for popping in and showing me. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to use your prostate to show other men what a tremendous prostate looks like.” Unfortunately, as I feared, that is not what he said. Which was why several weeks later, I found myself arriving at a hospital for a prostate procedure known as TURP. I will not go into medical details here, but to give you some idea, it's also referred to as a 'rebore', yes, I know, that didn't fill me with confidence either. I was instructed to book in at 11 am; this was then changed to 12.30 pm. No worries, I thought. I will just relax in the cafe with coffee, a bacon and egg sandwich, and a newspaper. I had just reached the counter when I remembered I was supposed to be fasting. All I could do was sit there, smelling coffee, bacon, and eggs. It is possibly the cruellest thing that's ever happened to me. At 12.20, I signed in and sat down in the first waiting room with a large crowd of anxious-looking people. They looked so anxious that I wondered if they were getting 'rebored' as well. After a while, a nurse called my name and invited me through to another waiting room. I smugly glanced back at the crowd who looked envious that I had been chosen. The second waiting room was similar to the first waiting room, except the crowd looked more frustrated than anxious. I realised why when I asked someone how long they had been waiting. Two hours later, I was looking a bit frustrated myself. I had heard strange noises when I had first entered the room. After a while, I realised I was in a place of fasting people with rumbly tummies. My own rumbly tummy had now joined them. I was started to hallucinate. Everybody who entered the room was beginning to look like a bacon and egg sandwich. Eventually, the big moment arrived, my name was called out, and I was invited to get changed into the gown that no one has ever worked out how to get changed into and enter the third waiting room. Now, I mentioned earlier that I had had several operations in the last few years, so I know a thing or two about waiting rooms. I think I can say without fear of contradiction, that the third waiting room is the finest waiting room that exists. It is the warm blanket waiting room. The first two waiting rooms are just annoying, but once you reach the third waiting room, it is as if you have arrived at a five-star hotel. A smiling nurse introduces herself and shows you to your little room. She invites you to lie down on your bed and then produces the warm blanket. The warm blanket is one of the world's greatest inventions, immediately all your worries just disappear. It is such a great idea that I always wonder why you only seem to get the warm blanket in hospitals. I do not even know how they warm the blankets. I should imagine that nurses are just sitting around on top of blankets until they are needed. In a way, it is a shame you have to leave the third waiting room, but of course, it's essential that you do, or all those in the first two waiting rooms would be there forever. Still, I usually am not too concerned because when you leave the third waiting room, they give you an injection, and once you wake up, it is all over. They ask you to count backwards from 10. You confidently say 10..9..8..and wake up seemingly seconds later to find all your troubles are over. And call me old-fashioned, but that is the way I like it. I do not want to know what is going on. I like to go to sleep and leave the experts to get on with whatever it is they are doing. I do not care if they dress me up like Coco the Clown and take selfies with me. (as long as they don't put them on the internet) Unfortunately, that's not what happened. The previous afternoon, my anaesthetist had rung me up and told me they prefer the patient to be awake during this procedure. I kept waiting for him to start laughing and say, "just kidding, you should have seen your face." Although obviously, being on the phone, he could not see my face. If he had, he could have seen the colour had drained from it. I do not want to be awake and see what is going on. I do not need to know. He explains that I will not feel a thing has he will inject me in the spine, and the bottom half of my body will be asleep, only the top half of my body will be awake. This does not make me feel any better, as unfortunately, the top half of my body is where my eyes are. Personally, I would much prefer that the top half of my body was asleep. Still, what can you do, this man is an expert in his field, that is why he earns the big money, he knows what he's talking about. That is what I keep telling myself. But I am not convincing myself. I am wheeled into the theatre. I am amazed at how many people are in the theatre. I went to the movies to see, Cats a few months back and there were fewer people in the theatre. Surely, this amount of people are not required to do a rebore. There are doctors, anaesthetists, urologists; even some nurses have kindly taken time off from blanket warming to pop in. I suddenly wish I had asked what a rebore was. I sit down and am told to lean forwards and relax while a strange man stabs me in the spine with a needle. It is the same advice they give you if you are attacked by a grizzly bear, just relax. I can imagine lying in hospital ripped to pieces by a grizzly bear and telling people, ' yes, I was very relaxed when it happened.' But happily, I barely feel a thing, and a couple of minutes later, as promised, the bottom half of my body disappears. I can run my hand down to my belly button, and then it is as if nothing is there. It is a weird sensation. I tell the doctor that the bottom half of my body has disappeared, but he's a professional, he’s not just taking my word for it. He produces a lump of ice and prods it up my leg to see if I can feel anything. No..no..no.. until it reaches my bellybutton, yes..yes. It strikes me that in the year 2020, they should be using something a bit more technical than a lump of ice. I immediately hope that they are not using a hammer and chisel for the rebore. I am lying on my back, and my legs are lifted upwards and parted, not that I can feel them doing it, I can just see my legs suddenly appear in a V shape. I look like I am at the gynaecologist's. Not that I have spent much time in the gynaecologist’s, but I have seen pictures in my, Bumper Book of Gynaecology. I cannot really see what's going on as there are blankets in the way. Not that I want to see what is going on. The last thing I do see is a crowd of people gathered about my nether regions, then I close my eyes and imagine bacon and egg sandwiches. At one time I hear a sound similar to a circular saw, the doctor assures me that it isn't a circular saw, but I'm not convinced, after all, he is still using a block of ice to see if I'm feeling anything. Before I knew it, my urologist was tapping on the shoulder and telling me it was now safe to open my eyes, it was all over. Must admit I never felt a thing, and in some ways, it's good to have the top half of your body awake and be able to have some idea what's going on. Let's face it; these people are professionals, and I never doubted for one moment that they knew what they were doing. Well, apart from when they produced the block of ice I am then wheeled out to the Recovery Room and stuck in a corner. I still cannot feel a thing from the belly button down, but at least the top half of my body is awake to worry about the lack of feeling in the bottom half. I wait and wait. A nurse apologies and says I will be off to the ward any minute now. I am not sure what she looked like because all I saw was a bacon and egg sandwich. The clock says 7 pm. I realise that I have not eaten for nearly 24 hours, and I like my food; it's more like dog years to me, so actually, I haven't eaten for nearly a week. Yippee, I am finally wheeled to the ward, where a lovely nurse introduces herself and plugs me into various machines and eventually asks me if I'd like something to eat. I consider saying, "no thank you, I ate yesterday", but this is no time for witty banter, so instead I nod in the affirmative. No bacon and eggs, but sandwiches and other bits and pieces, which I devour as if I have not eaten in nearly a week, and finally start to feel human again. Even the bottom half of my body was starting to make a comeback. It now just felt like my legs were drunk, but the rest of me was sober. I try wiggling my toes, but for some reason, the signal is not getting from my brain to my feet. I carefully glance beneath the sheets and notice that while I'd been in the theatre with my eyes closed, someone had taken advantage and inserted a catheter. I assume it was a medical person, although I do recall a cleaner lurking in the corridor; looking a bit guilty. There are also two large bags attached to a stand, and the lovely nurse explains that they are flushing out my bladder. I follow the tube and notice that it seems mostly blood being flushed out. Later on, the fluid changes to clear, and then at around 2 am the nurse checks and exclaims, " excellent, you have a very nice urine colour." at first I thought she was flirting with me, but no, when I checked, I did indeed have nice urine colour. I made a mental note to discuss the nice urine colour with my wife when I got home. Now, I mentioned that the nurse popped in to see me at 2 am for a good reason. The main lights had been turned off at around 10 pm. I presume so we could all go to sleep, but later I realised it was just to reduce the electric bill because I very much doubt that anyone has ever slept in a hospital. There are far too many machines making loud beeping noises for you to ever get to sleep. But just in case you somehow manage it, a nurse will pop in every hour or so to wake you up to see if you were sleeping. I gave up and read a book. At 4.30 am I ate breakfast because it seemed as good a time as any. At 4.55 am I finally nodded off but luckily at 5 am, the nurse woke me up to see if I was sleeping okay. Actually, there was no point in trying to sleep past 5 am because morning starts early in a hospital, so you need to be awake in case you miss something important, and I had something very important to look forward to—a chance to go home. Once the doctors had given the all-clear, the catheter was removed, this is on a par with childbirth, though not as bad as man-flu.Still, I gritted my teeth and bravely managed not to cry. I was told that I could go home if I managed to complete a difficult task. I had to wee in a bottle. Now, you may think that would be fairly simple, but that's where you would be wrong. After you have been rebored with circular saws and had catheters inserted and removed, your brain seems to lose interest in weeing in a bottle. The nurses told me to drink lots of fluids: water, tea, anything. My stomach got bloated but still nothing. I tried walking around and then listening to the tap running, but nothing. Eventually, I just went to the toilet even though I did not feel like going. I held the bottle and just stood there thinking of the Niagara Falls, then suddenly it happened. I weed in the bottle. And not just any wee. It was the wee of a much younger man. And not just any young man. It was the wee of a young man who has been chosen to wee for Australia at the Olympic Games and won a gold medal. The nurses seemed almost had proud as I was. There was much rejoicing. The bottle and it's contents were taken away for weighing and measuring. A photo was taken to be entered in Wee of the Month magazine. Well, I'm just surmising that, but it could have happened. A day later, and I was back home resting, and touchwood, everything is going along nicely. No doubt there will be the odd setback, but I am feeling quietly confident. I want to say a big thank you to my urologist and anaesthetist and all the excellent doctors and nurses at the Bunbury Regional Hospital. And to any blokes out there who suspect they are having prostate problems go and see your doctor. You will not feel a thing. Well, at least the bottom half of your body won't. Steve
I have always set myself a very low standard, and constantly fail to achieve it.
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