Where's the Bludger?

This is my plan for Thursday

• Breakfast In Brissy
• Lunch in Limbo
• Snack in the Sky
• Dinner in Manila

Which probably needs a bit more explanationBreakfast in Brissy refers to the fact that I will wake up at a normal time in Brisbane, eat my breakfast and head off to work, almost as normal.
Lunch in Limbo refers to the event that by this time I should be at the Airport in the international departures lounge waiting for my flight to Manila. Once you have passed Immigration you are in a legal limbo land, you are physically in Australia but have passed into International space.
Snack in the sky is the recognition that I will need a light meal during the flight but I will be saving myself for Dinner with friends in Manila.
Of course all of this is subject to a threatened strike by Qantas Engineers that could easily ruin many travellers plans over Easter.
The Bludger is procrastinating instead of throwing a couple of t-shirts and a toothbrush into a bag.

Onion & Potato Soup = Antisocial Behaviour.

Note: read this post at your own peril it contains offensive smells.
What to do with BBQ leftovers? I ended up with a large pile of raw sliced onion after a BBQ and a few baked potatoes. After a couple of days I thought that I mite (might?) (neither look correct) make some French Onion soup, but add in the Potatoes and make something a bit heartier.
I started by sautéing the Onions on gentle heat for about 30 minutes. A couple of table spoons of Flour to thicken and then poured on Chicken Stock (home made) and topped up with water. I sliced the potatoes into the soup and simmered for about 40 minutes. A tablespoon of sugar, melted in a serving spoon over the gas until it caramelised was added to the mix. I got this trick from a recipe, not sure if it added to the soup but a novel experience. I let the soup cool and skimmed off the oil on the surface then used a hand blender to make a smoother soup.
The soup was great, not restaurant quality by any means but flavoursome and filling.
The problem came the next day. Which fortunately was a non working day.
I woke up in the morning to a bedroom smelling of Onion. Strange I thought, and then a release of "wind" provided the reason why. The onion had worked its way through my system and was making it's presence known. I guess that it is fortunate I live alone
The Bludger is smelly today.

Online dating - Scamming? Still?

Several years ago I contributed to exposing the machinations of online scammers who prey on single men. The basic idea is that you get an online contact. Typically an attractive woman, single, young. You follow it up and before you can type her e-mail address she has fallen madly in love with you and has booked a flight to come and see you. But oops she needs some money for the ticket. And so it goes. The ones that I dealt with were Russian.
To be honest it was a bit nerve racking taking on the Russian backers of these scams. You didn't know how long there reach was. Maybe they had associates in Oz, maybe they could reach out and give you a hard time.
I have recently been approached again. So I thought "what the hell, let's do it all over again". Below is the first approach from Catwoman (name has been changed in case she is genuine...."
First and foremost, you have a very wonderful name and that's what attracted me to you....My name is Catwoman and am 27, i work as a sales assistant.. i live with my mom in the UK.I was born in Denver Colorado In US but we relocated due to the demise of my father who died when i was only 3 years old. My mom was very unhappy and we really had to move out to make and put our lives back on track so we moved here from the us when i was 10. i studied in the university of plymouth and i just graduated. Am a God fearing person, loving, kind, jovial, hard-working, respectful, caring, honest, loyal and trustworthy person. I have dated lots of guys and they have all broken my heart and am trying to follow a friend's advice now to try internet dating and see what would happen. Maybe i could find true love. I really hope to hear from you soon. Catwoman.
Lets have a quick look at her approach.
Firstly she grew up in UK but refers to "mom". This is an American spelling. Possibly explainable by her heritage, but the first hint of not being genuine.
Item 2, she is in UK and conversing with someone in Oz to find true love.
Come on be real!
Thirdly she is young and female, the photo that she provided shows an attractive woman, what the American Cop Shows refer to as "Latino" and she is blowing a kiss.
Hell the only way that I could not be attracted is if my heart has stopped beating.
Mmm not yet.
Next pointer, she likes my name. Well there is a first I have an interesting time. The one and only time in 40 plus years.
Finally a fair bit of pathos to pull at the heart strings, broken home, loves her mother, god fearing. She has dated lots of men, obviously the wrong type as they have broken her heart. The message is that she is vulnerable. It is so obvious that she needs a strong man or alternately is open to advances from a predator.
So the contact was via MySpace, I have invited her to be a friend. Stay tuned for the next instalment.

Tsunami overreaction:

An earthquake near Chile has triggered a Tsunami that is moving across the pacific. The Tsunami is due to hit Queensland coast near Brisbane about 9:15am local time, the time varies depending where you are.
I understand that we need to give warnings but the Governments warning does seem to be an overreaction. We are warned to stay off beaches, secure boats and other measures. Despite my cynical post I genuinely do appreciate that the Government is providing warnings and that we know about these warnings. This is a major step forward compared to even 2 years ago.
However. So far a 20 cm high wave has hit NZ "with bigger waves to follow". By the time the Tsunami has travelled further to Australia it's power will have dissipated further. Local surf reports are predicting 1 - 2 foot waves. High tide coincidentally is just before the Tsunami strikes. I actually challenge anyone on the beach at the appointed time being able to distinguish a 20 cm wave from the normal waves. The one difference may be that it travels faster in a straight line than normal. But we are very unlikely imho to be in any real danger.
So thanks Gov but let's be realistic in our warnings.
The Bludger wants to go to the beach, but has too much to do at home to spare the time.

24 Hours - Give or take

Dateline: Brisbane, Thursday 18 February, 10:30am An appointment with my Cardiologist is about to start. He commences with an ECG and then we have a discussion. My reason for being there is I have recently started getting Angina. I have been symptom free for 5 years, so sudden changes need investigation.
I think that you need an Angiogram he says. He picks up the phone has a quick conversation and then turns to me. "How about this afternoon?" I think for a few seconds, then indicate that will be fine.
Arrangements are soon made and I leave his office to get to the hospital. I detour via a Supermarket to lay in some easily prepared food in case I am not mobile for a few days. I drop this at home and pack an overnight bag and toiletries. A few hurried phone calls to work and parents. By midday I am being admitted to Hospital.
I spend the afternoon in a hospital room reading and watching the TV. I am nervous but have been through this before so know what to expect. About 4pm I am ordered into bed and given a Valium. Only a Valium! I wanted something a bit stronger than that as a pre-med. Still my anxiety level dropped off and soon they wheel me away to theatre.
I lost track of time about here was it 4:30 or 4:00 when I went in? Was it 5:30 or 6:30 when I was back in my room? Not sure.
The procedure (you are not cut open so it is not classified as an operation) involves local anaesthetic in your right groin and then a long tube inserted up your femoral artery into your heart. They feed instruments and various tools through this tube. During this time you are awake, aware and being directed to take breaths, stop breathing, breathe again. I can feel warm fluid running down my leg to my buttocks. I comment that I can feel the blood pouring out. I am told it is mucus and fluids not blood. I have to take their word, but I don't know where mucus can come from. Possibly they mean lubricants and the excess dye that they use. Dye that is visible to an X-ray machine is injected into your heart and the surgeon can see on a video screen in real time if blockages are present and where they are. To a certain extent you can see what is going on as you can see the monitors at an angle.
My blood pressure drops drastically and my heart rate is down to 40 bpm. This is a crisis. They suspend the procedure while they restore my blood pressure. I am bathed in sweat and only vaguely conscious. I hear them dial up the drip to squirt fluids into me and repeated calls of "pressure, pressure". I am stabilised and they continue.
I am told that I have an artery that is 80% blocked and that they will need to perform balloon angioplasty and insert a stent.
I am prepared for this and let them know to continue. To be honest I don't have a choice they would do it anyway. But my chances of a post procedural issue have just increased to 1 in 500. I hear them call to inflate the balloon. I let them know that I can feel it. While the balloon is inflated there is no blood flow in the artery. Basically I have a temporary angina, induced by the balloon, which is why I came in in the first place, so it should feel the same and it does.
They close me up and place some stitches in place. They leave a sheath behind. Not exactly sure what this is. I think that it drains blood from the puncture site. Unfortunately when it is removed later it will reopen the femoral artery and I will be at risk of bleeding to death. They will use a clamp on my artery called a "FemStop". This clamps the artery shut and over a period of time it is loosened as the artery heals itself and closes the wound. This is the worst part of the procedure as you are strictly forbidden to move and you lie flat on your back. The FemStop hurts. By the time it is removed your back and buttocks and legs are in agony as the blood has pooled in those regions and not been able to reach the pressure spots. It is now common to use a plug to seal the artery but my drop in blood pressure has forced them to use anti clotting drugs that make that impossible.
By 6:30 (or was it 5:30?) they are cleaning me up and slide me off the operating table and onto my bed. I was able to climb onto the operating table prior to the operation but I am now at risk of bleeding so need to be carried off. I feel like a dolphin that is being rescued as I am in a sheet with people lifting all around. The person closest to me is an extremely attractive nurse and her chest rubs against mine as I am moved. In other circumstances I would have been sexually aroused, but not today.
Shortly thereafter I am back in my room. I am brought food and water. I am both hungry and thirsty so I manage to eat a couple of sandwiches and drink some water. A little awkward while I am flat on my back but the relief is wonderful.
I am monitored continually by machines and every 15 minutes checked by a nurse. My cardiologist visits, tells me all is well and that I will be going home in the morning. The regular checks continue until midnight when blood coagulation tests indicate that I am now safe to have the sheath removed. I am dreading this. As I described above it is not pleasant. However I am informed that the FemStop is only on for about 90 minutes. This is a huge relief as during my first angioplasty it was on for 8 hours and the after effects of lying flat for such a period lasted for days.
Despite the discomfort I am able to sleep a bit and then the FemStop is removed. No bleeding until the Nurse starts to clean up the wound site. She now must compress my artery with her thumb or fingers to prevent the bleeding and let a clot form. She calls for assistance and plunges her hands into my groin. She delicately moves my penis out of the way to have better access.
She needs to be there for 15 minutes. I know that pushing your thumb down for 15 minutes at that pressure will be agony for her (try it!). It is also agony for me. We talk to keep our minds off the personal pain we are both in. She was born in Nepal, educated in India and America and is now working in Brisbane. She moved here 8 months ago. She is well travelled and the time passes quickly. I admire her pluck, courage and mental toughness, it is not easy for someone to move to a foreign country with no social support on her own. I wished that I had met someone with that character and courage many years ago when I was travelling.
The bleeding stops and I am left alone again apart from the regular visits to check progress.
By daylight I have spent a very sleepless night but am pronounced as recovering well. By not moving I have allowed my artery to seal without further bleeding. It is worth the short term pain to prevent complications over the next few days. I an now allowed to sit upright and am even moved off the bed into a chair. Breakfast arrives and I can eat it in relative comfort. Over the next couple of hours I am visited by my cardiologist who declares me well enough to go home, also the surgeon who also declares me fit to go home. I am finally unplugged from drips and the electronic monitors and allowed a shower. The water running off my body turns red. I check for bleeding but it is merely the coagulated blood that had spilt during the procedure washing off me.
I can finally dress and all that needs to happen now is the Pharmacist to deliver a new set of medications and instruct me in their use. Take one a day in the morning is obviously a difficult concept for some. While I wait alarms go off and there is a lot of running in the corridor. Controlled panic. I learn later that someone has had a heart attack in one of the other rooms, he or she is treated immediately and survives. It brings home that this is serious stuff happening around here.
The pharmacist finally arrives talks me through the medications and with that it is all over I am discharged. It is exactly midday, 24 hours since checking in.
I go home and sleep the afternoon away.
The staff in the Cardiac Ward (Ward 2E) in the Wesley Hospital at Brisbane were wonderful. From the moment I entered I was treated with professionalism, friendliness, courtesy and respect. I always felt that I was in good competent hands. The regular care and attention was calming and the nursing staff were cheerful and always willing to help. You can't do a lot to disguise the fact that you are in hospital and I was fortunate enough to have a private room with my own facilities. Even the food was decent.
The bludger is recovering well and taking it easy for a few days.

Channel 9 Coverage of the Winter Olympics

Man this is crap. The Channel 9 commentary team look like they have been picked not for their knowledge of winter sports, nor for their talent but for their political clout within Ch 9.
Eddie McGuire - doesn't even see to know what Olympics and Snow is all about.
Andrew Voss - comes across like a rabbit in the headlights. What's going on? AV stick to Rugby League that is your strength. Fortunately he has an offsider to dig him out of his hole.
Alisa Camplin - Thank the lord that someone knows what is going on. A true professional.
Mick Molloy - a poor mans copy of Roy and HG. At least he doesn't try too hard to pretend that he knows what snow is. And thank the lord that there is no fat arsed wombat.
When Ray Warren calls the swimming, you know that he understands the sport, even though he was not a swimmer. I don't get the feeling that the above do.
Channel 9 lift your game.

Man up

Some interesting threads have come together for me over the last few weeks. They have not changed my life profoundly but they have forced me to re-think some aspects of who I am and where I fit into life and society and ultimately what I want out of at least one aspect of my life and therefore who I am.
We are talking about sex, sexuality, companionship and love.
The first thread was late in the year before Christmas. I was involved in a rather pointed discussion with 2 ladies about my lack of ability to snare a girlfriend. This discussion was definitely alcohol infused. I also know that these people care for me. Therefore I take no affront at the discussion and bear no ill will to these people. Their motivation was concern and I know and understand and appreciate that.
The gist of this discussion was that to attract women that I needed to "man up". That I give out vibes that I am gay. That I should lose the earring (left ear) and the shirts with grandfather collars and be more of a man.
I suspect that some of this was fuelled by a third person who had said, behind my back, that if I was to have any hope with her that I would need to lose the earring for a start.
Actually the next time I saw these people they apologised realising that they had probably crossed a line and were feeling bad about how they had got their message across. As I said I bear no ill will.
This did give me pause to think. For the record I am not gay. Many of my friends and associates are, I have had plenty of opportunity to explore that part of me if I wanted to, but males simply do not interest me in a sexual fashion. So I wondered what women really want and quickly realised that men have been trying to work this out for probably thousands of years, so my thoughts are not going to contribute to the debate.
I see myself as a kind, sensitive caring person. Interested in the well being of others, sometimes at my own expense. Not wanting to cause hurt or be hurt. Respectful of women, their rights and their struggle to achieve what they consider equality. The various women's magazines call that a SNAG (Sensitive New Age Guy) although I suspect that that expression is now out of favour. All that I can deduce from what I see and hear is that Women "say" that they want a SNAG but in reality are more attracted to the Neanderthal approach.
I decided from that thought process, which was over several days, that I was not going to "man up" and I would retain the earring and grandfather collars and be me.
The second thread that adds to this topic is due to me spending much time over the last few weeks in close company of "real men". These men are, according to themselves, very successful with women, or at least were so in the past. The ones that I am referring to are married, have dependent children, have wives that they profess to love and hold positions of power and responsibility in the companies that they work for. In the time that I was with them they ogled every women that went by. They rated their physical attributes, they talked incessantly about how it was now x days since they rooted their wives and had a pressure building up. They looked at people who were definitely below the age of consent and gave them approval ratings.
I have to say that I partly fell into this, even though I was cringing inside. I respect women. Yes I do look at women and think that they are attractive or not. And while I have done so in the past, I no longer judge a women on how good I think that she will be in the sack.
As a side track I did wonder whether those of us present fell under the spell of an Alpha Male. There was definitely one there. There is so much psychology going on in this scenario. To be considered part of the "team" the sub alpha males need to be seen to support the alpha. The alpha in turn needs to be aggressive and dominant to prove that he is actually the alpha, not only to those around him but himself also. Not supporting the alpha can be political suicide. So did we all tag along to avoid unpleasantries? I don't know.
Anyway back to the thread. This very masculine testosterone fuelled scenario made me think once more about what women want. Do women really want an alpha male, sweet talking them, then a bit of wham bang thank you mam, before he heads back to his wife and children. I would like to think not but it seems like they might.
So once again I reaffirmed that I will be me. I wont be a male misogynist pig. I wont conform to being a male Neanderthal. I won't change from having earrings and grandfather collars. I will be me and if that is not attracive to women then I will go to my grave considering that I had the moral ascendancy if not the physical one.
Ladies you need to work out what you really want.
And to finish this topic you may be wondering what I do want from a relationship. Bad luck that is a topic for another day.