Monday 2 November 2020
Monday 28 March 2016
An average child abuse PSA in the United Kingdom
Having survived physical child abuse this PSA makes me shudder. Most of this content happened to me and more. Somehow I survived!
Being YELLED at continually. Being beaten for being in the wrong place: not making through the night without wetting the bed: eating to fast: speaking when other adults are around (but after they've gone).
I lived; but have had a life long disability as a result. Don't let any unfair treatment of a child go unreported.
https://youtu.be/P1m1VTQTNfk
Being YELLED at continually. Being beaten for being in the wrong place: not making through the night without wetting the bed: eating to fast: speaking when other adults are around (but after they've gone).
I lived; but have had a life long disability as a result. Don't let any unfair treatment of a child go unreported.
https://youtu.be/P1m1VTQTNfk
Thursday 24 December 2015
Staple Removal Time
Well the day came for staple removal. The district nurse had dropped the removal kit off before the weekend. Monday arrived and so did the district nurse. We found a comfortable place for me, and the nurse went about her task of taking out the 7 staples covering 2 keyhole surgery incisions. She went for the easiest one first. It stood well proud of the skin on the lower incision. In went the tool and I jumped a bit: then all hell broke loose for me. That tug took me through my pain barrier and off to orbit Pluto. The staple remained in place.Memories of Stitches and staples removed in the past came flooding back. Apart from my sensory deprived spine, I can only remember 2 stitches coming out that didn't give me hell, and felt like the described quick tug. My glass injury to my arm as a teen, had me crying like a baby while the 8 stitches were removed. The 2 central ones were the only 2 that came out feeling as described.
An appendectomy and ovarian cyst removal at 17. The nurse called me a baby as I screamed every time a stitch was removed.
Then I had 7 external stitches due to a 3rd degree tear in childbirth, and had to have gas and air for a nurse to get them out. On that occasion the pain was put down to me being a fast healer, and the stitches being in a day to long, so the skin has started to over grow.
My Urostomy had me zipped down the middle of my belly with stitches and staples, over 30 of them. Home removal failed here too, and deep meditation over 2 long sessions at the health centre, plus a sore squashed hand for my husband got them out. Any other stitches I've had have been disolveable.
Back to the staples from the current procedure. The nurse noticed there was also glue to save dressing the wound, so she spent a bit of time peeling some off. the top wound, and went to remove the first stitch from the other incision. Well the tool was barely in place before I was off to Pluto on the pain scale again and almost passed out, and was bathed in cold sweat. I felt so sick I thought I would throw any second. I refused point blank to allow her near me again. The nurse said they had to come out. I told her: "I have an appointment at the surgeons clinic in the morning. I'll discuss it there."
She left after checking I did have such an appointment, and would be back in 2 days to check on me.
Most of that day I couldn't eat due to high nausea levels UGH. I managed to sleep that night but upon waking, trepidation started to build. By the time we reached the hospital fear was seriously building. For ease of travel for my husband, we took the manual wheelchair, so I had to go where he pushed me. We entered the main foyer, and were headed for out patients: I said to my husband, "Can we leave now?"
He laughed, thinking I was joking: I wasn't! He carried on the original path without any hesitation. The only other time I have felt like I did in that moment, was the funeral of my last husband, and I did try to run for it; but was stopped by my closest friend.
We got to the clinic and had a long wait. I shivered and shook, and tried not to dissolve into a blubbering mess.
I spent the time wondering why I could go through major surgery on little pain relief; but couldn't get through 7 staples being removed
My name was called, and I swear, had I been able I would have left; but my husband calmly pushed me into the treatment room. I broke into tears while my husband explained the situation. The nurse asked to try removing a stitch, and I tried to vanish into the back of my chair: "NO" was all I could say. A deep breath later I told her I'd sooner have the cats claw all the quicks on my fingernails than experience that pain again. I would happily have local anaesthesia stuck in around the wounds rather than have the staples pulled while I could feel it. The nurse said that was not an option; but she would go have a word with the doctor for me.
Sometime later the nurse returned with 2 options. One to be tried and if it failed the other was the only recourse left.
Option 1. Freeze spray
Option 2. Emergency General Anaesthesia
I just couldn't cope with pain so happily agreed to try the freeze spray. I certainly didn't want to have to recover from another induced sleep. Everything was in place, and extra nurse was brought in to assist: my husband was the obligatory hand holder. and the process began.
First adhesive remover was used to remove as much of the remaining glue as possible. Then the nurses working in tandem started the spray and pull process. Turns out the spray has to be used sparingly in case of frost bite, and only lasts seconds before sensation can be felt again.
Most of the time the nurse had to use the staple tool and tweezers to get the staple onto the tool. For about half of the stitches I discovered what was meant by "You should only feel a bit of a tug". The rest caused enough pain that my working leg climbed the wall, and my husbands hand went numb. Those staples caused enough pain for me to need a break before more were removed. 25 minutes later the job was finally done.
During one of the breaks the nurse asked if I had always used adhesive remover on my urostomy bag. I answered "Yes as my skin get very red and sore without it." She gave me a knowing look and said: "If you ever have to have surgery again, make sure the surgeon is aware of this issue."
With much relief we made our way to a hospital restaurant to gather my senses, and my hubby's feeling back in his hand.
Without knowing until now, skin sensitivity has affected my entire life.
Wednesday 16 December 2015
Double Baggin it
This last week I joined the double baggers.
4 years come January I had a urostomy done. Since then I have been taking in as much as possible, only simple unprocessed food. I have used, as far as possible only herbal remedies, and by that I mean stuff I can find mostly in my kitchen.
Turmeric tea, and Jamaican dogwood have been my principle pain relief for my spinal injury: MAGIC.
In those 4 years I have only had one urinary tract infection, and that was in the first couple of months.
In the summer the surgeon agreed all other avenues had been explored, the time had come for another diversion: this time the bowel.
On the morning of the operation the surgeon had trouble getting a working vein, so I was put to sleep via gas. 2 1/2hrs later I woke up feeling like a decorated Christmas tree. Instead of the usual white gauge patches on the failed needle sites I had 7 bright green ones. There was a blue cannula looking like baubles hanging off one arm and red allergy bands, and white identity bands on both wrists, looked like the tinsel. I even had stockings under the tree lol. I don't do Christmas someone was having a laugh.
As you can see my lifestyle paid off, concentrated doses of super foods in the run up to this had me bounce out of it within hours. I was fortunate in that it could be done by keyhole surgery. Little scarring on that side so no need for a gaping hole that would form another zip line down the front, Just a couple of extra punctures closed with the dreaded staples.
Again there was little pain relief after the first few hours, aside from paracetamol and my turmeric tea.
Stoma number 2 was named by the following morning. She had a cavernous mouth and knows how to blow, so it had to be Jonah the whale (I know it's a boys name; but I don't care).
I had to stay in an extra day as the doctor came round so early I hadn't had chance to prove I could care for my new appendage. I got out in 3 days instead of 5: result!! Not bad going for an old bird who hits 60 next year.
Jonah is so cavernous the nurse had to bring some convex bags out to me today, as yesterday I couldn't get a seal. 3 bags in as many hours. I'll give them emptyable bags, emptied between the skin and the glue I was well fed up, and skin sore. The bloating can get uncomfortable, It makes you look and feel 6 months pregnant.
Now I just have to wait for the stomach wall to heal so I can fully get on with life again.
Anyone else out there double baggin it?
4 years come January I had a urostomy done. Since then I have been taking in as much as possible, only simple unprocessed food. I have used, as far as possible only herbal remedies, and by that I mean stuff I can find mostly in my kitchen.
Turmeric tea, and Jamaican dogwood have been my principle pain relief for my spinal injury: MAGIC.
In those 4 years I have only had one urinary tract infection, and that was in the first couple of months.
 |
| Just Woke Up |
On the morning of the operation the surgeon had trouble getting a working vein, so I was put to sleep via gas. 2 1/2hrs later I woke up feeling like a decorated Christmas tree. Instead of the usual white gauge patches on the failed needle sites I had 7 bright green ones. There was a blue cannula looking like baubles hanging off one arm and red allergy bands, and white identity bands on both wrists, looked like the tinsel. I even had stockings under the tree lol. I don't do Christmas someone was having a laugh.
As you can see my lifestyle paid off, concentrated doses of super foods in the run up to this had me bounce out of it within hours. I was fortunate in that it could be done by keyhole surgery. Little scarring on that side so no need for a gaping hole that would form another zip line down the front, Just a couple of extra punctures closed with the dreaded staples.
Again there was little pain relief after the first few hours, aside from paracetamol and my turmeric tea.
Stoma number 2 was named by the following morning. She had a cavernous mouth and knows how to blow, so it had to be Jonah the whale (I know it's a boys name; but I don't care).
 |
| Jonah |
Jonah is so cavernous the nurse had to bring some convex bags out to me today, as yesterday I couldn't get a seal. 3 bags in as many hours. I'll give them emptyable bags, emptied between the skin and the glue I was well fed up, and skin sore. The bloating can get uncomfortable, It makes you look and feel 6 months pregnant.
Now I just have to wait for the stomach wall to heal so I can fully get on with life again.
Anyone else out there double baggin it?
Dec2021 Not 1 infection since end stoma placed: just a little emergency surgery 1 year on. I healed to well and virtually closed the stoma, making it un useable. I was reopened in short order; but skin sensitivity on the left side meant using copious amounts of glue remover until the last 12 months when it has finally calmed down. I have a small but noticeable hernia from having to move just three weeks after the surgery. The hernia can cause some explosive leaks, because it peels the back off at times. Drinking at ;east 4 litres a day has played a large part in keeping me infection free. Double bagging it has given me back a lot of independence; although I cannot claim to have a fine body shape any more. How can you have a flat tum when you have 2 holes straight through yours stomach wall. Life carries on today and I can still wear a smile
So, It Can Change Your Entire Life
As I start writing this I am in total amazement. I personally know the benefits of turmeric. I use it instead of Ibuprofen (I am allergic to NSAI's), for a chronic spinal problem. I have been telling everyone I meet with a pain issue to try it; but few have.
I'm going to tell you about 1 young woman, whom having tried everything thing else, was at her wits end, and did try it.
Her periods had never been regular, and always so painful, it meant she rarely worked at least the 1st day of any menstrual cycle. She had tried every feminine pain product on the market, even seen the doctor a few times. Nothing worked for her. I had suggested a warming turmeric and ginger tea as pain relief a few times and nothing much came of it, as life and scepticism got in the way of her following it up. She has been with her current partner for over 13yrs and married him 2 1/2yrs ago. Immediately, they started positively trying for a family; but nothing happened. She had never taken contraception, as her partner used condoms. Only once in all those years had she taken a morning after pill, after a known accident, and in full knowledge that a baby would not be good at that time. There had been a few other accidents but none ever bore fruit.In the winter months of 2015 she called me from a supermarket in agony. "What was that stuff you said I should try? Right now I'll give anything a go." I could hear the sobs she was trying to suppress. I told her "Ginger for the warming effect, and turmeric for the pain. Just add honey if you want to sweeten it to make the tea more palatable."
She drank the tea 2 -3 times a day while the pain was bad, then just 2-3 times a week for the next few weeks. The "grumbles" as she calls them would start up to a week before her period was due to start, so it was back on twice daily cups of this tea. The period was a lot easier, if not perfect.
She stuck with the tea through the next month, just a few times a week as the previous month. The period came and went as uncomfortable; but not painful.
By the 3rd month her cycle had settled into a regular pattern, Then the periods stopped.
Just after her 2nd wedding anniversary she announced she was pregnant. She is expecting her precious delivery in early spring.
Apart from being delighted for her, as she had waited many years for this, I thought nothing of it until she called for a chat today, and she laid the blame for the expected arrival square at my door. Mystified I asked how I was to blame. Her answer was simple.
I have been with my partner many years and nothing has happened, and I have seriously looked back to see what changed that I got pregnant when I did. My diet has remained the same, as has my lifestyle. the only thing that seemed to change everything was your tea. I settled quickly into regular periods and no sooner had that happened than I was pregnant, so you have to be responsible.
The Recipe
She used
1/2 level teaspoon dried turmericA little grated fresh ginger
Boiling water
Small tea cup or espresso cup
Put turmeric and ginger in the cup, and pour on the boiling water. Add honey if required, and stir.
Give close to 10mins soaking. Drink liquid. Leave sediment in the cup
If you have experiences with turmeric tea or turmeric, I would love to hear from you
Friday 13 November 2015
Any Abuse Of Any Child Has Lifetime Effects!
Let me tell you exactly what damage I have in my back before I go further.
L3 had a hairline fracture. L4/5 has a retrolithsesis ( Wikipedia = Retrolistheses are caused by injury and resulting instability of the connecting soft tissues especially ligaments, discs, muscles, tendons and fascia.) All major nerves from L3 down spent 35yrs at least partially pinched before surgery released them. The scarring on the impinged nerves is visible to the naked eye according to the surgeon who did the work. He also said that on some nerves there was so much scarring, that there is little neuro-pathway left. He advised me to never do a full body stretch again; because as I age that pathway could break. He was amazed at that time that I could still stand let alone walk even my short distances.
That operation was just over 10yrs ago. Some time a couple of years ago I awoke to a loud internal popping noise. As I came to awareness I realised I was in that dreaded full body stretch. My hands were up the headboard pulling, and my legs were pressed on the foot of the bed. I'm barely 5'4" so it was a good stretch. I thought I'd got away with it when I got out of bed that day; although I knew I'd inflamed the nerves as the pain built through the day. The nerves feeding the legs became excessively painful, and every step has been like walking on broken glass.
Jamaican Dogwood at 5-8 drops a night has been the only thing I have found to keep putting my feet on the floor each day. Every time I leave it off for a few days that awful sensation comes back.
Last winter the same thing happened again: I woke in a full body stretch and that loud internal pop woke me up. My left leg has through this year lost about half of it's lateral muscle mass, and my right leg has started with the deterioration path my left leg took before the wasting.
I was using a manual wheelchair to get about outside; but now have to use an electric one as any pushing my chair up any incline put enough pressure on my lower back to cause the inflammation to rise.
Why am I telling you this now? Well child abuse has been in the forefront this year in the UK; but only sexual abuse. It has felt to me like physical and mental/emotional abuse no longer exist, as sexual child abuse is now referred to as plain "child abuse".
Any abuse of any child, of any nature has lifetime effects! I am passing my 60th year soon and still have things affect me. I was in my early 30's when someone finally believed I had been abused, and I was offered counselling. That was weird in the extreme for me. It was like I left my body and someone else was telling the story. I felt no emotions, it was just a list of facts that had happened to me.
In the short term it was a release to have told; but nothing more. My fears, presumptions of people in authority etc. remained in place. Age 49 I had the operation that revealed all, and I felt vindicated. I could no longer be called a liar, a hypochondriac, a drama queen: yet the fears persisted, as did trigger words that would put me in ultra defensive mode.
In my early 50's I got some specialised psychotherapy; which was mind blowing. Two thirds of the way through I had to take a break for a few weeks because I no longer knew what motivated me. My entire life had been based on anger, and suddenly it was gone: I'd done everything up to then to prove the proverbial "them" wrong. I had to learn I could do just because I wanted to, not to prove anything.
I thought my psychological journey through was done, until this year. Seeing such prominent child sex abuse cases defined under the broad name of "child abuse" and no cases of any other type of child abuse coming up has left me angry again. This summer I also came face to face with a television visual trigger that sent me into a state of panic. I was that child again, in that moment of intense pain, and I was all but physically sick.
Please remember, child sex abuse is not the only child abuse that goes on, and we the physically and emotionally/psychologically abused, also have a lifetime of dealing with the past ahead. Never knowing when it will have an affect on us again, or what could trigger that affect. I am not in any way down playing sexual abuse. I can't imagine what that must be like; but I do know about the effects of the other types.
Children Matter. Below is a link to my story
http://www.amazon.co.uk/YOUR-FATHERS-DAUGHTER-Early-Years-ebook/dp/B007S9XB7U/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447424634&sr=1-1&keywords=Your+fathers+daughter
L3 had a hairline fracture. L4/5 has a retrolithsesis ( Wikipedia = Retrolistheses are caused by injury and resulting instability of the connecting soft tissues especially ligaments, discs, muscles, tendons and fascia.) All major nerves from L3 down spent 35yrs at least partially pinched before surgery released them. The scarring on the impinged nerves is visible to the naked eye according to the surgeon who did the work. He also said that on some nerves there was so much scarring, that there is little neuro-pathway left. He advised me to never do a full body stretch again; because as I age that pathway could break. He was amazed at that time that I could still stand let alone walk even my short distances.
That operation was just over 10yrs ago. Some time a couple of years ago I awoke to a loud internal popping noise. As I came to awareness I realised I was in that dreaded full body stretch. My hands were up the headboard pulling, and my legs were pressed on the foot of the bed. I'm barely 5'4" so it was a good stretch. I thought I'd got away with it when I got out of bed that day; although I knew I'd inflamed the nerves as the pain built through the day. The nerves feeding the legs became excessively painful, and every step has been like walking on broken glass.
Last winter the same thing happened again: I woke in a full body stretch and that loud internal pop woke me up. My left leg has through this year lost about half of it's lateral muscle mass, and my right leg has started with the deterioration path my left leg took before the wasting.
I was using a manual wheelchair to get about outside; but now have to use an electric one as any pushing my chair up any incline put enough pressure on my lower back to cause the inflammation to rise.
Why am I telling you this now? Well child abuse has been in the forefront this year in the UK; but only sexual abuse. It has felt to me like physical and mental/emotional abuse no longer exist, as sexual child abuse is now referred to as plain "child abuse".
Any abuse of any child, of any nature has lifetime effects! I am passing my 60th year soon and still have things affect me. I was in my early 30's when someone finally believed I had been abused, and I was offered counselling. That was weird in the extreme for me. It was like I left my body and someone else was telling the story. I felt no emotions, it was just a list of facts that had happened to me.
In the short term it was a release to have told; but nothing more. My fears, presumptions of people in authority etc. remained in place. Age 49 I had the operation that revealed all, and I felt vindicated. I could no longer be called a liar, a hypochondriac, a drama queen: yet the fears persisted, as did trigger words that would put me in ultra defensive mode.
In my early 50's I got some specialised psychotherapy; which was mind blowing. Two thirds of the way through I had to take a break for a few weeks because I no longer knew what motivated me. My entire life had been based on anger, and suddenly it was gone: I'd done everything up to then to prove the proverbial "them" wrong. I had to learn I could do just because I wanted to, not to prove anything.
I thought my psychological journey through was done, until this year. Seeing such prominent child sex abuse cases defined under the broad name of "child abuse" and no cases of any other type of child abuse coming up has left me angry again. This summer I also came face to face with a television visual trigger that sent me into a state of panic. I was that child again, in that moment of intense pain, and I was all but physically sick.Please remember, child sex abuse is not the only child abuse that goes on, and we the physically and emotionally/psychologically abused, also have a lifetime of dealing with the past ahead. Never knowing when it will have an affect on us again, or what could trigger that affect. I am not in any way down playing sexual abuse. I can't imagine what that must be like; but I do know about the effects of the other types.
Children Matter. Below is a link to my story
http://www.amazon.co.uk/YOUR-FATHERS-DAUGHTER-Early-Years-ebook/dp/B007S9XB7U/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447424634&sr=1-1&keywords=Your+fathers+daughter
Sunday 21 June 2015
BEING A ROMANIAN DOG
BEING A DOG IN ROMANIA
Wired around the waist while still a pup the wire has ingrown and infected
Romania is a member of the EU as is Spain both have hight animal cruelty and neglect levels; But Romania takes the prize. Dog squads are paid a bounty per dog caught Dead or Alive. Several are murdered during capture. The catch pole slowly strangles them while they are being moved from point of capture to a cage. They are lifted on the end of the catchpole until the back legs clear the top of the container cage and unceremoniously dropped on any other dogs in the cage: dead or alive.
These dogs are then delivered to "Public Shelters" where they receive little food, and dominant dogs fight quieter dogs for it. The injured dogs are not attended in any way and many die in the pen. Dog catchers will get quieter dogs released for recapture to up their income.
Gypsy children have so little respect for dogs they use puppies as footballs.
At intervals Shelters have a kill day. On these days the dogs can be heard screaming in pain and fear.
Pet dogs are not safe either as the dog catchers will illegally seize them too if they haven't reached their desired total. A Private Shelter that does care about the dogs has also been raided illegally, and dogs with passports, waiting for transport out of the country killed in the seizing. Police just watched and controlled the angry volunteers while it went on, so there must be corruption as well.
Only open support from foreign countries offers private shelters any protection!
I support a shelter that is currently built of whatever materials can be found and is on rented land. The supporters are raising funds to buy land and build a more secure shelter for the animals the shelter. All people working at these private shelters do it voluntarily, as do the people who raise funds from abroad, so every penny raised goes direct to the support of the animals and finding them a way out of Romania.
The only safe Romanian dog is an ex Romanian dog!
I support a shelter that is currently built of whatever materials can be found and is on rented land. The supporters are raising funds to buy land and build a more secure shelter for the animals the shelter. All people working at these private shelters do it voluntarily, as do the people who raise funds from abroad, so every penny raised goes direct to the support of the animals and finding them a way out of Romania.
The only safe Romanian dog is an ex Romanian dog!
I am the proud adopter of one dog and a cat who is soon to join my not so small cat congregation.
My safe Ex Romanian dog
If this blog has touched your heart in anyway please find a private shelter to support. This is the one I support.
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