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Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts

Monday, 23 April 2012

Thought for today...


So, I was at the Docs waiting to get a flu shot and test results and I was skimming through a magazine as you do.  I came across this article about how easy it now was to have fat sucked out of your arse and put into your face to plump it up and get rid of wrinkles. I don’t know that I would put butt fat in my face because I cover my arse for a reason. I don’t want to look at my arse and frankly, it’s not often I have to contemplate it so having it literally in my face would be extremely confronting. And have parts of your arse on your face? Does that make you a butt head?  I believe that’s a no to being arsed-face.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Just my opinion but...

I believe it’s good that doctors, like in the recent trial to do with Michael Jackson's death, are held accountable for their actions. My brother was bi-polar – no I’m not saying Michael Jackson was – I’m saying that people with any sort of mental illness should be treated as people who need to find a solution to their problems and not be constantly handed out prescriptions for drugs that are doing stuff all to help then. Of course they’re going to take the drugs. They’re looking for peace…calm…a release. Saw it all with my brother. Read about it with Michael Jackson. Doctors need and should be held accountable. Justice done.

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Got a hat?


So I went back to see the crazy lady Doc from the US. I know she’s from the US because she starts every second sentence with “In the US…” Anyway, today, I trusted her with a scalpel on my head to cut away what looks like a skin cancer. Living in Oz, skin cancer is not unusual and the sooner you deal with it the better. So I dealt with it. I have to say it was one of the more memorable ops I’ve had done on me. It started with us all trying to find her glasses that she swore were in the operating room but were in her handbag in her office. Then I lay down and she shoved a needle into my scalp and got ready to operate to remove said lump. Problem.
“You’ve got a hard head woman,” she said.
My response, “Are heads as hard as this in the US?”
“What are you doing for birth control?” She parried, as she cut into my scalp.
Me – “Am I at risk of getting pregnant right at this minute?”
“No, geez look at the blood – you should have told me you bleed a lot – and just because you’re 47 doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant. Did you bring a hat?”
“What?”
“You gonna have a lot of blood in your hair. Got any metal on you?”
Me, the queen of wearing too much jewellery? “Why?”
“You’ll find out. Let’s cauterize nurse.”
At this stage I’m ripping my rings and earrings off and contemplating taking out my navel ring when I smell hair burning. “Am I on fire?”
“We’ll have to put stitches in and maybe we’ll make a hat for you from gauze and tie it under your chin.”
“Ah, that would be a no.”
“Allergic to iodine? Never mind, it’ll cover the grey hairs.”
“There’s always a bright side…”
“That and the blood will do it,” says the nurse who has been quietly standing by.
“Ooh, I know what we’ll do.” The Doc says. She grabs a can of liquid skin and sprays over the seeping blood and bloody stitches. “Are you sure you don’t want me to make a hat?”
At this stage I turn and see myself in the mirror and laugh my arse off. My hair is bloody and lacquered down with liquid skin and I couldn’t look worst but at least it was a moment to remember.
“’Gonna faint on me?” She barked out.
“This is Australia. We don't faint, we just swear a lot.”
“I need to see you in two days time.”
“I can hardly wait.”

Thursday, 5 May 2011

Give me 60 blue pills, 40 pink....




I went to the doctor today for the first time since changing cities. I took all my old meds and prescriptions, explained the whole thyroid history etc. He just nodded and wrote me out new prescriptions for the same meds without questioning me further. So, I asked for two extra things – "I need my 6 monthly blood test to check my thyroid and I forgot my old prescription for morphine. Can you re-fill that please?" He looked at me then as I had his attention. “You use morphine?” He asked. I said,“Nope I just wanted to see what else you would hand over without blinking." Yes, yes, I’m exceptionally irritating but willy nilly dispensing drugs on the say so of a patient you have never seen before indicates anyone can be a doctor. Luckily, in Oz, I can go to any doctor I want and I shall exercise that right and be grateful for it.

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Floss and gloss...



I had to see Fairy Floss today. Who’s that? My doctor. She is very ethereal, caring and almost other worldy – pretty much the complete opposite of me. I have been seeing her for nearly 20 years and it seems to work. I prefer female doctors. I don’t really, in my opinion, think male doctors can understand the urge to rip someone’s head off when in full PMS mode or how your pelvic bones seem to be sharpened objects spearing into your stomach when you have the curse.

Anyway, I digress…last week I got a note from her telling me to increase my thyroid meds. She was on hols but she stopped long enough to check my blood tests. So I got her note which I could read maybe only every third word of. Hmmm…was it some sort of code? Is fairy floss a spy? Or just a doctor with appalling writing? Anyway I took the new prescription to the chemist and the chemist wasn’t sure what I was being prescribed since it was an odd dose and not my usual. I love mysteries. Don’t you? And yeah, it will be the basis of another book (see copyright warning). Why do I say see copyright warning?
Well as writers, we are like sponges – that description will probably piss some off yet I say it anyway – we absorb stuff that is going on around us and consciously or subconsciously file it away for some later book. It’s real easy to nick an idea without thinking about it. Of course I am generalizing and not talking about any writer particular.

Anyway – back to the Floss – she always has a full waiting room. She is popular because she is one of those doctors who actually listens to you and will take 3 hours with one patient it needs be – hence the full waiting room. So, she’s a good doctor but sometimes needs to be brought around to the subject at hand. But to cut a boring story short – after a crystal reading and picking a flower card, to tell me how my spirit was (I need to find joy apparently …uh huh ), I got the right meds, dose was upped and metabolism is now be forced to work instead of sit their like the useless gland it is. And you thought your life was boring.

Cindy Spencer Pape – what can I say? The girl can write a damn good book. Heart of the Bear is out now through Total-e-bound. See below. And yes, it is another click on the cover and buy moment. No, don’t blame me if you become a book shopaholic.
Heart of the Bear -Guardian Investigations Book 1-By Cindy Spencer Pape

The blurb:

She can see into the minds of criminals, but can she find her way into the heart of the bear? Detective and psychic Hannah Lightfoot heads to her family's mountain cabin to make some hard decisions about the future of her career. When she reaches the cabin she finds it already occupied-by ahandsome naked stranger. Shape-shifter Evan Maddox is her brother's friend and partner. After a night of unbelievable passion, they work together to rescue a kidnapped child. He believes in Hannah's gifts, but can he trust
her with his deepest secrets? Maybe even with his heart?

The excerpt…adult

How did he know my name?

It didn't matter. All that mattered was the fire that raged between us. I shifted upward just a little so I could reach his ear. "I need this," I whispered with a soft puff of air. "I need to feel safe, to feel alive."

Like I hadn't for the last three months. I'd come up to the cabin to be alone, to wrestle with the demons that haunted me. Suddenly, I understood loneliness had been a big part of my problem. What I needed right now wasn't to be alone with my thoughts but to connect with another human being on a primal level friends and family just couldn't reach.

He bent his head and took my lips in a kiss so carnal it chased every last trace of cold right out of me. Thick, powerful fingers dug into my ass and waist while lips both strong and soft plundered my mouth.

I opened eagerly, drinking in the sensations as his tongue speared into me, seeking, searching, claiming me as his own. He tasted faintly of coffee and something sweet, but mostly he just tasted male. I licked my tongue along his, learning the shape and texture of him as he probed. My hands were trapped by the blanket, but I wiggled them until I could bring them up between us, flat against the sides of his broad masculine chest.

"Are you warm yet?" His rapid breaths caressed my cheek when he drew his mouth from mine.

I nodded and arched my spine, thrusting my hips against his as far as I could.

Evan groaned. After a few jerky movements of his hands, our blanket cocoon loosened. It still covered us both, but my bare butt met the woollen rug below. Fine with me. I ignored the rough fibre and concentrated on the smooth skin of Evan's shoulders beneath my palms.

His next kiss was gentle, almost sweet. Our lips touched, retreated, touched again, then slowly moved against one another. Evan rolled me over to my back, holding himself on his side so one hand was free to explore. Callused fingers traced up my side and back down my arm as softly as a feather in the wind.

I didn't want soft and gentle. My skin had become one giant erogenous zone, and I wanted to feel him everywhere. I reached down and clasped his iron-hard cock in one fist.

"Mmm." He made a little sound of pleasure as I moved my hand up and down the length of his shaft. He was bigger than anyone I'd ever been with. My fingers didn't even come close to meeting where they wrapped around him, and there would have been plenty of room for both hands on him length-wise.

He returned the favour by leaning down to circle one of my nipples with the tip of his tongue. Now it was my turn to hum. Of course, I lifted the blanket with my free hand and looked down to watch. The dark pink nubbin was still peaked from the cold and hypersensitive. His eyelids drooped, but his gaze was intense as he watched himself paint the tip of my breast with
moisture.

I may have whimpered. I'm not proud of it, but the need that racked me was that powerful. I know I squeezed down on his shaft and lifted my chest to push myself closer to his mouth. He met my unspoken request and sucked my nipple into his mouth. His cock pumped into my hand as his powerful thigh muscles pulsed. Damn, he'd gotten even bigger and harder. There was a brief flash of concern that he wasn't going to fit in my pussy, but then he used his tongue to press my nipple against the roof of his mouth and started to suckle. Anything resembling clear thought scattered like pine needles in the stormy wind outside the cabin.

www.amarindajones.com
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Wednesday, 2 July 2008

Babble on....


The important thing in writing is the capacity to astonish. Not shock - shock is a worn-out word - but astonish.
Terry Southern

I got a comment from a friend who read a couple of my books – “Why do you have to complicate everything?” Huh? Well, apparently all my books are complicated. Hmmm…how so? “Why can’t they just fall in love and get married without all the hoop-la?” Well, yes of course they could but what would be the fun in that? And the sex is apparently an issue too. “You don’t do what you wrote about on page 32 do you?” Hmm…I cannot say as I prefer to remain a mystery.

This is how I see it - romance is complicated. Just in normal, everyday life, you have two people from two different worlds who meet and fall in love. They already have their own inbuilt ideas and feelings. Suddenly they are sharing thoughts with another person who may have similar or wildly different ideas to them but they soldier on despite differences as they want to be together. Okay – so that’s no big revelation to anyone. So – cut to romance novels – the love is there, the different ideas are there but then maybe add one of them as being a vampire, a demon, a blue person from Mystic Valley, a shapeshifter or maybe a heart surgeon-come-millionaire-rancher-come-jet airline pilot-in his spare time - that shagged his temp nurse-come-princess in disguise who has run away from an obscure kingdom to find herself - after too much sangria one night – and is now preggers. I tend to think things are going to get a tad complicated. While I am have yet to meet a vamp or a blue person or the millionaire/princess combo I have to think that could all be kind of difficult to sort out. The whole mortal meeting an immortal thing needs some time to adjust to and yes stuff could happen that normally does not happen. So yes, I like to complicate my books by throwing in weird things people have to deal with because we all deal with weird stuff every day and very few people have had perfectly easy romances. If you have and want to make a liar of out me, then tell us how easy your romance was.

As for the sex…people have sex in many different ways and they don’t have to be married…that’s all I’m saying…. and I can’t remember what was on page 32…

I read a blog today that was discussing ‘cougars’. No, not the animal. It was a good blog. I have no negatives about it so please do not think I do. What I do not like is the term ‘cougar’. I find it derogatory. How so you ask? I will tell you. As you all know a ‘cougar’ refers to an older woman dating a younger man. No big deal there. It happens all the time. And yeah, I know there are predatory women out there just as there are predator men who scope out a target and go for it. Good luck to them. As long as they hurt no one – who cares. What I don’t like is the term ‘cougar’ being used for any woman who dates a younger man. I don’t see this is an unusual. Most of the time it’s just people who meet, go out and maybe fall in love. The age difference is something they deal with or not. It’s up to them. What’s cougarish about that? I have mentioned this many times before and you’re no doubt sick of hearing it but why do we have to keep labelling people with dumb terms? We can’t we use the tried and tested ones of man, woman, child etc? I’m not into being ‘cool’ or with it or on the ‘in’ list by the way I speak. Cougars? They’re an animal. People are people. Labels are for jars, files and school books. It’s pretty simple.

There will be much screaming in the neighbourhood this evening. No, it’s not the bi -yearly drunken hell raise the lady down the road throws where she gets plastered and swears her arse off and sings at the top of her drunken lungs – I think we have another month to wait for that to happen again. No, it’s actually the last game of State of Origin. Yes, people will be screaming for Queensland to win a football game. Sometimes life is as simple as one bunch of men tackling another bunch of men in the pursuit of an oval ball.

So today…pretty boring…end of month accounting stuff to be done at work, sat through a 2 hour meeting contemplating my striped socks and running dialogue through my mind, ate two scones for dinner and got an obscure note from my doctor – who can read their handwriting for god sake – either asking me to up my thyroid meds or show my thighs to Roy…not sure but I will have to await her return from holidays. If you spend a gazillion years getting qualified as a doctor wouldn’t you think they would learn how to write properly?

I love talking about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about -- Oscar Wilde

www.amarindajones.com
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?