... the IT man in LibraryLand
The big day of my knee fixing operation finally arrived last Thursday.
Despite the surgeon putting it down as routine afterwards I think it was anything but, as the list below should prove.
It all begins the day before when I receive the confirmation call from the hospital at 5pm. In amongst the machine-gun fast list of information passed on to me was this little doozy - "shave your knee before you come in".
My "excuse me? Did you just say I have to shave myself?" was met with a confirmation and the information that I could get hair remover cream at any chemist.
Taking it in my stride after the brief call finished I immediately enquired as to whether any of the immaculately presented librarians happened to have an emergency stash of said cream.
Unluckily there was not a depilatory to be had anywhere in the library so I had to venture to the supermarket and buy a huge basket of assorted groceries in which to hide my girly hair removal product.
At this point I must point out how disappointed I am with private medical care. For my last operation - under the public system - I was shaved by nurses, and you can't really ask for more then that (well except maybe for them to not sedate you before the shaving happens, but, you know, it's the thought that counts).
So in any case I was up extra early to take care of my knee smoothening. I have to say that I found it a simple process although my newly deforested knee did feel like a strangers knee - possibly something one could become used to...
ahem, but I digress.
The next "routine" thing that happened was for half a sky's worth of rain to fall in the morning and consequently my train to be delayed three stations from destination due to signal faults up the line. This was no measly delay, oh no. It was stated to be of 20 to 30 minutes duration. This delay would eat up all of my careful planning to be two trains early so a delay would not cause me any trouble. I guess Connex showed me in their final days.
So I finally arrived a mere 25 minutes late to bump into an old friend from high school who quickly informed me she was working as a nurse in recovery and would see me later.
Still stunned from the unusual and unexpected meeting I failed to take in that reception was not at all concerned about my lateness and seemed to have built it into their schedule - it's as if they knew all about me.
Much waiting around ensued, interspersed with physio instruction , paperwork and preliminary physical examination. During the physical I was informed that, although it is not stated on the literature about the operation they had given me, the patient (me) needs to be under supervision for 24 hours afterwards. "Humph", I mused. "Well luckily Handy Dad and Freeloading Mum should be accommodating for the evening".
I was also informed that I would absolutely need crutches so I dutifully hired myself a pair. In the very least I should be able to milk some LibraryLand sympathy with them.
Eventually I was called in to change into the exciting hospital robes and then, after sitting around in the cold for a while, loaded onto a bed and wheeled off for sedation.
The anaesthetist greeted me by my middle name, having taken a brief glance at my chart, and then proceeded to not find the vein for several minutes. He was muttering something about tough young manly vein walls so I forgive him - plus I have this cool looking bruise all over the back of my hand.
Once I had the thingamy in my hand he was called away before sedating me because a current operation had a patients "BP dropped to 68" or some such ER sounding thing.
This left me alone for a surreal moment with one of the theatre nurses who had the exact demeanour of Miss Amanda. Right down to the same turns of phrase - "ah yes, it's always soccer or football. My stupid husband had his knee done twice because of football." and so on.
I am fairly certain that there weren't any mind altering substances in my system causing me to hallucinate familiar faces in the hospital as I was next wheeled into the theatre and slid onto the table before the anaesthetist came rushing in and quickly had to knock me out before the knife men went to work.
I came to several hours later in recovery and had a nice little chat with my high school nurse before being okayed and sent back to the ward for some sandwiches and juice.
I recovered quite quickly and was waiting around for Handy Dad when the day's stormy weather caused an alarming power flicker - I thought that hospitals would have uninterruptable power supplies?
I was soon whisked away by Handy Dad and spent most of the evening at the ancestral abode enjoying a free dinner and supervisory company before being dropped home for the comfort of my own surroundings.
My last few days have been a whirlwind of recovery.
I've been cooped up inside going all Rear Window until this afternoon when I took myself for a short stroll.
I have been going slowly mad doing repetitive exercises, some of which have confusing instructions - how exactly is one to interpret "...hold for 6 seconds, do sets of 10. Increase number of sets as pain permits. 2-3 minutes, 3-4 times per day."
In any case I have watched TV and movies galore, read many books and magazines, and pontificated many a gaming quandary. I've also grappled with some mild afternoon nausea and some annoyingly planned road-works outside my flat for the whole day.
However most importantly I've discovered that The Tiger, and most probably all other cats, make for lousy nurses.
You know, I'm almost on the verge of being ready to return to work... almost.
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The Ball Boy and the Baby's Birthday
My weekend just past was highlighted by the first non-virtual catching up I've had for a very long time with FridgePower and Judge Mingus.
Much of the visit time was taken up with the nigh-unstoppable antics of Ball Boy who began my visit as a shy, retiring youngster for a good long twenty seconds or so until I made the possibly fatal mistake of inquiring about his impressive collection of balls. (note that this must be some foreshadowing of the impending maturity looming in my future as I am, for unfathomable reasons, avoiding making the obvious - and hilarious - smutty turn of phrase)
This innocent enquiry lead to a cataloguing of every ball in the collection for my edification - "this is a soccer ball, this is a football, this is a basket ball, this is a small soccer ball, this is a flat beach ball" and so on.
After my spherical knowledge had been increased tenfold we moved on to creating things with wooden blocks and running marbles through our creations once or twice until we decided to demolish our creations and start again - many times over.
Thankfully the rest of my visit time involved quite a hearty midday repast which set all things right with the world again - although it is spooky that FridgePower and Judge Mingus knew which particular foods to serve up that just happened to be several of those amongst my thousands of culinary weaknesses.
After lunch had settled somewhat I made my tactical withdrawal from overexcited toddler tantrum territory and headed to the next appointment of my busy afternoon.
I managed to arrive fashionably late for Couch Killer's 1st birthday celebration, magnificently hosted by Vengeful Vic and MatrixMan. (I am a tad dubious about the fashionability of my arrival since I did swan through the door at the same time as Pirate Dave.)
With nobody the wiser to my previous events activities I was able to claim that I was starving and commenced to bring my stuffed level right up "to the gills" as they say.
Fantomas and ElfBoy were also in attendance along with various other party goers of all ages. Much fun and possibly too much ice cream cake was had by all - and it all still managed to last longer than any 70th birthday event I've attended - thereby proving that the young do indeed have more fun.
After all the excitement I headed home to privately suffer through some mysterious stomach-bloating-without-cause and a sugar-rush crash that hit me hard and for some reason left me seeing Neapolitan rainbows
.
Much of the visit time was taken up with the nigh-unstoppable antics of Ball Boy who began my visit as a shy, retiring youngster for a good long twenty seconds or so until I made the possibly fatal mistake of inquiring about his impressive collection of balls. (note that this must be some foreshadowing of the impending maturity looming in my future as I am, for unfathomable reasons, avoiding making the obvious - and hilarious - smutty turn of phrase)
This innocent enquiry lead to a cataloguing of every ball in the collection for my edification - "this is a soccer ball, this is a football, this is a basket ball, this is a small soccer ball, this is a flat beach ball" and so on.
After my spherical knowledge had been increased tenfold we moved on to creating things with wooden blocks and running marbles through our creations once or twice until we decided to demolish our creations and start again - many times over.
Thankfully the rest of my visit time involved quite a hearty midday repast which set all things right with the world again - although it is spooky that FridgePower and Judge Mingus knew which particular foods to serve up that just happened to be several of those amongst my thousands of culinary weaknesses.
After lunch had settled somewhat I made my tactical withdrawal from overexcited toddler tantrum territory and headed to the next appointment of my busy afternoon.
I managed to arrive fashionably late for Couch Killer's 1st birthday celebration, magnificently hosted by Vengeful Vic and MatrixMan. (I am a tad dubious about the fashionability of my arrival since I did swan through the door at the same time as Pirate Dave.)
With nobody the wiser to my previous events activities I was able to claim that I was starving and commenced to bring my stuffed level right up "to the gills" as they say.
Fantomas and ElfBoy were also in attendance along with various other party goers of all ages. Much fun and possibly too much ice cream cake was had by all - and it all still managed to last longer than any 70th birthday event I've attended - thereby proving that the young do indeed have more fun.
After all the excitement I headed home to privately suffer through some mysterious stomach-bloating-without-cause and a sugar-rush crash that hit me hard and for some reason left me seeing Neapolitan rainbows
.
The Lessons of Don Juan: Journey to Ixtlan
I finally read this interesting novel by Carlos Castaneda.
It, and a couple of others in the series, were handed to me by Shirl when they were withdrawn(1) from the library just prior to my winter visit to Svetlanaland - which shows that I am only two years behind on following up on reading recommended to me.
It was a reasonably well written exploration of a shamanistic apprenticeship in the desert. It reminded me somewhat of parts of the Illuminatus trilogy and/or the books about the writing of the Illuminatus trilogy and also the classic Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Like those it explores heightened states of awareness that allow the truly open minded to see the other worlds all around us.
One of the amusing things about the Castaneda books is that he presented them as anthropological study and was apparently awarded his degree based upon his first couple of books (this one is the third) despite contradictions between them.
Some have even gone as far as checking his library book stack requests and found that at the time he claims he was undergoing peyote experiences he had in fact requested a book about peyote experiences by someone else and was reading it in the comfort of the university library.
So there you go the library is not only a great place to research, it can also be an accomplice to your religious/philosophy based fraud.
All things to all people indeed.
.
It, and a couple of others in the series, were handed to me by Shirl when they were withdrawn(1) from the library just prior to my winter visit to Svetlanaland - which shows that I am only two years behind on following up on reading recommended to me.
It was a reasonably well written exploration of a shamanistic apprenticeship in the desert. It reminded me somewhat of parts of the Illuminatus trilogy and/or the books about the writing of the Illuminatus trilogy and also the classic Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Like those it explores heightened states of awareness that allow the truly open minded to see the other worlds all around us.
One of the amusing things about the Castaneda books is that he presented them as anthropological study and was apparently awarded his degree based upon his first couple of books (this one is the third) despite contradictions between them.
Some have even gone as far as checking his library book stack requests and found that at the time he claims he was undergoing peyote experiences he had in fact requested a book about peyote experiences by someone else and was reading it in the comfort of the university library.
So there you go the library is not only a great place to research, it can also be an accomplice to your religious/philosophy based fraud.
All things to all people indeed.
(1) amusingly I made a typo of sithdrawn for withdrawn when I initially hammered out this sentence. It conjures up wonderful images of Darth Vader prowling the library shelves selecting unused books to be removed by slashing out with his lightsaber. (if you don't get it then read about the Sith)
.
... The Long Awaited Conference Report
Well enough time has passed since the conference that I will now be able to report upon it with my trademark professional objectivity.
It all began for me early in the week when I had to sacrifice two evenings on the altar of having my presentation complete and ready to go for a Thursday afternoon session.
My sacrifice was made even more poignant and grandiose as one of the sacrificed evenings was a gaming evening - the only one untouched by formal conference activities.
Day One: Training and Busing
The Official Day one began with myself and Comrade Treasurer registering conference goers before the start of the morning training session.
The end of training was marked with a sumptuous lunch feast. Unfortunately I had to leave the buffet after only half an hour of feasting as one of my responsibilities involved organising the bus tour for the afternoon.
Said tour went rather well with the attendees: gaping at the technology at Skeptic L's library; having a wry laugh about the porn perusing patrons sullying the newness of Comrade Treasurer's rejuvenated branch; and flocking paparazzi-like around the simple digital photo frame display at my own branch. It was a trifle amusing to see working technology and new desks overlooked for a pragmatic and functional little device.
Throughout this tour my powers of counting were sorely tested as various individuals joined and left the bus at each stopover but I remain confident that no librarians have been left stranded in Melbourne's suburbs for the past month.
Libraryland Cocktails and Beyond
The first evening involved a wonderfully Spring Racing Carnival themed "cocktail" reception.
Of course Supervisor Grand Chief K was in attendance and up to her usual tricks as The Enabler of all things to excess. She might try to blame the constantly refilled wine glasses but I'm sure she was one of the big reasons the night went on afterwards long after all good conference attendees should have been to bed.
Anyway, I did manage to use the occasion to perform some work-related duties, cornering The Beer Drinking Machine and coming up with the solution to our long running RFID problems.
After the official event we reluctantly embarked upon a little expedition at the behest of Dubrovnik Hater who I suspect was working as an accomplice to SGCK - especially as she plied me with a ridiculous cocktail at our first destination.
Luckily my incredible willpower held out and I was able to abstain for the remainder of the night and headed home to a well earned rest after just one more venue.
Day Two: An Unexpected Case of Wine Poisoning
You can imagine my shock when I awoke at around five am to find my body at war with me.
I struggled through much of the morning with only some water and half a carrot for sustenance, messaging my situation reports through to Comrade Treasurer. It was quite a while before I had things under control enough to head in to conference central without fear of yet another stomach emptying episode (and why are there always carrots?). I made my way be train as feeble as a new born stopping for some simple recovery tools along the way.
Finally shuffling in to the break room I was met by a steady succession of attendees popping out of the morning session for various reasons and all of them passed comment on my health. Clearly Skeptic L had informed the whole world of my disposition!
Of interest was the advice that I received independently from two of the Librarians for a northern Melbourne Library service concerning recovery from cases of wine poisoning such as mine . I think I shall have to see about attending their staff Xmas party if they need to know such information so thoroughly.
Thinking it was all behind me I had to face the most horrific part of the whole ordeal as a magnificent lunch was served and I didn't have the stomach to partake of it at all.
Oh the humanity!
In the afternoon I bravely presented my part of the session I had promised to be a part of - albeit a little less lively than I had planned to be.
I then sat back and furthered my recovery with a few sessions of very little movement.
It all worked a treat and I was able to partake fully in the evening conference dinner and even had my wits about me enough to escape from Dubrovnik Hater's clutches as she gathered people about her for another night on the town (although she claims it was all The Ex-President's idea).
Day Three: In Which Nothing Untoward Happened
The final day of the conference went almost completely to plan with sessions ticking over, lunch being eaten and my reign as Mr Secretary coming to a close after two eventful years.
I was even able to tackle a drink or two at the farewell event at the end of the day.
So there you have it the month-late report on my conference experience.
Hmmm, not really worth the wait was it?
.
It all began for me early in the week when I had to sacrifice two evenings on the altar of having my presentation complete and ready to go for a Thursday afternoon session.
My sacrifice was made even more poignant and grandiose as one of the sacrificed evenings was a gaming evening - the only one untouched by formal conference activities.
Day One: Training and Busing
The Official Day one began with myself and Comrade Treasurer registering conference goers before the start of the morning training session.
The end of training was marked with a sumptuous lunch feast. Unfortunately I had to leave the buffet after only half an hour of feasting as one of my responsibilities involved organising the bus tour for the afternoon.
Said tour went rather well with the attendees: gaping at the technology at Skeptic L's library; having a wry laugh about the porn perusing patrons sullying the newness of Comrade Treasurer's rejuvenated branch; and flocking paparazzi-like around the simple digital photo frame display at my own branch. It was a trifle amusing to see working technology and new desks overlooked for a pragmatic and functional little device.
Throughout this tour my powers of counting were sorely tested as various individuals joined and left the bus at each stopover but I remain confident that no librarians have been left stranded in Melbourne's suburbs for the past month.
Libraryland Cocktails and Beyond
The first evening involved a wonderfully Spring Racing Carnival themed "cocktail" reception.
Of course Supervisor Grand Chief K was in attendance and up to her usual tricks as The Enabler of all things to excess. She might try to blame the constantly refilled wine glasses but I'm sure she was one of the big reasons the night went on afterwards long after all good conference attendees should have been to bed.
Anyway, I did manage to use the occasion to perform some work-related duties, cornering The Beer Drinking Machine and coming up with the solution to our long running RFID problems.
After the official event we reluctantly embarked upon a little expedition at the behest of Dubrovnik Hater who I suspect was working as an accomplice to SGCK - especially as she plied me with a ridiculous cocktail at our first destination.
Luckily my incredible willpower held out and I was able to abstain for the remainder of the night and headed home to a well earned rest after just one more venue.
Day Two: An Unexpected Case of Wine Poisoning
You can imagine my shock when I awoke at around five am to find my body at war with me.
I struggled through much of the morning with only some water and half a carrot for sustenance, messaging my situation reports through to Comrade Treasurer. It was quite a while before I had things under control enough to head in to conference central without fear of yet another stomach emptying episode (and why are there always carrots?). I made my way be train as feeble as a new born stopping for some simple recovery tools along the way.
Finally shuffling in to the break room I was met by a steady succession of attendees popping out of the morning session for various reasons and all of them passed comment on my health. Clearly Skeptic L had informed the whole world of my disposition!
Of interest was the advice that I received independently from two of the Librarians for a northern Melbourne Library service concerning recovery from cases of wine poisoning such as mine . I think I shall have to see about attending their staff Xmas party if they need to know such information so thoroughly.
Thinking it was all behind me I had to face the most horrific part of the whole ordeal as a magnificent lunch was served and I didn't have the stomach to partake of it at all.
Oh the humanity!
In the afternoon I bravely presented my part of the session I had promised to be a part of - albeit a little less lively than I had planned to be.
I then sat back and furthered my recovery with a few sessions of very little movement.
It all worked a treat and I was able to partake fully in the evening conference dinner and even had my wits about me enough to escape from Dubrovnik Hater's clutches as she gathered people about her for another night on the town (although she claims it was all The Ex-President's idea).
Day Three: In Which Nothing Untoward Happened
The final day of the conference went almost completely to plan with sessions ticking over, lunch being eaten and my reign as Mr Secretary coming to a close after two eventful years.
I was even able to tackle a drink or two at the farewell event at the end of the day.
So there you have it the month-late report on my conference experience.
Hmmm, not really worth the wait was it?
.
... The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold
Many other things are happening whilst I chip away behind the scenes composing my much anticipated conference report.
My finishing of this novel this morning for instance. It was such a wonderful read that I am ready to pronounce it my book of the year.
The Curse of Chalion has been the most enjoyable of the scant 19 or so books I have managed to read this nigh-overwhelmingly busy year.
It is a wonderfully written tale with great depth to the characters and world. I found that it's tale resonated with me as it used many of the themes that I enjoy immensely. I highly recommend it unless you have some unnatural aversion to books of the Fantasy genre (and even then you should know that the fantastical is minimal and it is much more a novel of medieval-esque society)
A big thank you to Vengeful Vic for persisting to recommend it until I got the hint and finally borrowed the book.
Speaking of curses I attended a bountiful BBQ feast at The Viking Hat GM's yesterday wherat I was plied with food and good company until the early evening, reminiscing over gaming times past with The Mad Magyar and The Blithe Bogan.
Eventually taking my leave - supplied with a goodly portion of leftovers as is the Viking custom - I then traversed this great city we live in to attend the birthday drinks of Legion4. Along with Legion2, Jamo and Tone we talked the night away while Legion4 sadly recreated his state of inebriation of last Xmas. Some sort of intervention will probably be in order in the near future.
Today has been a sublime day of not much to do other than bask in the joy of finishing a great book and catch up on all the domestic things that have to be done in order to keep one's demesne functioning to it's full capacity.
.
My finishing of this novel this morning for instance. It was such a wonderful read that I am ready to pronounce it my book of the year.
The Curse of Chalion has been the most enjoyable of the scant 19 or so books I have managed to read this nigh-overwhelmingly busy year.
It is a wonderfully written tale with great depth to the characters and world. I found that it's tale resonated with me as it used many of the themes that I enjoy immensely. I highly recommend it unless you have some unnatural aversion to books of the Fantasy genre (and even then you should know that the fantastical is minimal and it is much more a novel of medieval-esque society)
A big thank you to Vengeful Vic for persisting to recommend it until I got the hint and finally borrowed the book.
Speaking of curses I attended a bountiful BBQ feast at The Viking Hat GM's yesterday wherat I was plied with food and good company until the early evening, reminiscing over gaming times past with The Mad Magyar and The Blithe Bogan.
Eventually taking my leave - supplied with a goodly portion of leftovers as is the Viking custom - I then traversed this great city we live in to attend the birthday drinks of Legion4. Along with Legion2, Jamo and Tone we talked the night away while Legion4 sadly recreated his state of inebriation of last Xmas. Some sort of intervention will probably be in order in the near future.
Today has been a sublime day of not much to do other than bask in the joy of finishing a great book and catch up on all the domestic things that have to be done in order to keep one's demesne functioning to it's full capacity.
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