MOOMINS M.C.

Sometimes I wonder why I am so sore and feeling rather less vital than normal.
First and obvious answer comes from one of the voices in my head:

"Coz you got bitch slapped by a semi trailer ya crazy monkey!!"

But on closer inspection I find that I do actually pack a fair bit into every week.
Maybe not as much as some people, like looking after a family of six kids and what not, but for my limited amount of energy I have enough on my proverbial plate to make resisting turning to the vegetative state more than a challenge.
On top of my 3 days at work ( picked up an extra half day as of this week ), my two half days of physio and hydrotherapy, the bits of extra physio I personally engage in ( like walking around taking photos ), the obligatory trips to the pub ( I may be sometime ) there's also the juggling of appointments, chasing hospital staff regarding progress of reviews, social outings, entertaining Snorkmaiden, etc......
My levels of energy have returned to something fairly close to pre smash levels, but the pain factor is a noticeable drain on that.
After a big weekend involving watching the Rugby World Cup at the pub on Saturday night and a trip to the snow on Sunday it's no wonder I'm feeling a little rooted today.


I haven't been to the snow in a long time and at one point entertained thoughts of taking my ski boots along, you know, just in case I had the urge to strap a pair of skis on and hurl myself down a mountainside.
Thankfully I remembered my mate Rob's experience last year and was promptly reminded of the potential of another helicopter trip to the hospital.
Instead, I chose to take the kinder option of driving 3 hours each way, through some pretty twisty mountain roads, walking / stumbling around the snow and alpine topography, lugging a back pack with two cameras, throwing snowballs and fighting gusting gale force winds.
Took Teh 'Hoff for a walk in the snow too, hope the photos turned out!
The snow was a bit skanky, old, dirty and a bit wet, but hey it was still snow!!!
All good fun, if a little draining and rather painful on the arse.


















Medically speaking, I finally had my review with the plastic surgeon and her opinion was that she will not replace the muscle graft as it's not viable and could possible cause more harm than good.
She will however be able to cut the motor nerve to the graft, which means I've just picked up a 3rd operation.
Doh!
This had me thinking that I will be able to have the metal removal done privately and therefore very soon.
That was until I spoke to the orthopaedic surgeon, who said that he will require a plastic surgoen to lift the graft in order to access the plate in my lower leg.
So it's back onto the trauma waiting list and that means waiting another 6 - 8 weeks.
Double doh!!
This threw me into a mild state of anxiety as the annual Melbourne Cup Camping Extravaganza will be around that time and I haven't missed one yet.
Here are some photos from last year's trip.
Either way I plan to get the surgery and the trip done, time will tell.....

I also saw my pelvis surgeon today about the pain in my arse and he confirmed a couple of things for me.
1) The pain is definitely coming from the pudendal nerve which was a resulting side effect of the surgery.
2) The only option for possible relief would be to remove the plate in the pelvis and the surgery involved there would be as extensive as the one to install it in the first place, with the very real possibility of causing more nerve damage.
So I just have to put up with it and hope the pain will decrease over time, which it has been to a certain extent.
Triple doh!!!


I went to a comedy showcase last week to watch 6 new up and coming comics.
I find these kind of events much like going to see new bands, it's all very hit and miss.
2 of them were pretty good, 3 average and one crashed and burned on stage.
He was a black American and all of his routine was black comedy: lots of 'niggers', 'brothers' and 'ass' and generally aimed very much at a black audience.
Problem was he was in Australia with a primarily white audience.
I love black comedy like Murphy, Cosby, Chapelle, but this fella's jokes were pretty lame on any level.
His comedy did not involve metabigotry, it just sucked.
He might as well have been an Iranian telling jokes about his uncle's goat incident in the desert last summer to a room full of Inuit seal hunters.
He and the audience were so far removed from each other culturally that it was about as funny as seeing your brand new puppy's entrails pop out from under the tyre of a passing bus.
The unfortunate chap was treading water from the start, eventually choked completely and left the stage.
I think the audience was quietly glad and relieved it was over, a bit like when someone really unsavoury is trying to make conversation with you in a pub and eventually leaves you alone.
I must admit that I do enjoy seeing someone who is very cocksure and full of themselves look bad, and this bloke's ego was bigger than the stage or audience could accommodate.


On a funny note, I gave the Hens of Hell some left over vanilla and whipped cream slice, that was left over from heat 4 of Roast Off II.
N. cooked up some kangaroo and it came out just divine, don't know what she was peaking out about really.
Great country Australia where you can eat both of the animals on the coat of arms, name another country that has that dubious distinction!.
Anyway, the chooks went to town on the slice like it was Captain Sparrow.




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