Freezing cold and chat rooms

I've had no central heating for 3 weeks now. I've managed to borrow an electric heater for the lounge, but I'm not able to carry it upstairs, so if I need to do anything on the computer I have to type quickly before my fingers freeze. Even now, I can't feel my face!

I thought I'd forget my ice extremities and go and have a chat in a chat room somewhere, but what's happened? I used to be able to go into AOL and chat with other 40-somethings, or visit the 'Pub' for a game of trivia, but there seem to be no chat rooms at all, only message boards! Nothing to take my mind off my popsicle toes ... Forgive the ManTran reference :)

So I'm off to bed, so cold that it will take me until morning to thaw ... I may have to put my bobble hat on ...

Happy Easter! Hope you are warmer than I am!

The price of warmth ...

... is very high! I spent a couple of hours with British Gas Man yesterday, going through the various pros and cons of combi boilers vs traditional heating systems, and the good news is that they can come next week and sort out my freezing home. The bad news is that it's going to cost over £3,000. I don't know about you, but I certainly don't have £3,000 lying around so I'm going to have to take out the payment plan. Can't really afford that either, but something will turn up - it will have to! Shame I've just paid the deposit on a new suite ...

I am going to get another quote, but the people who are quoting won't be able to offer me 'easy' payment terms, so I guess British Gas is going to get the job, despite the high price.

So this isn't a very jolly post, but as you can imagine, I'm not feeling very jolly at the moment, and I have the prospect of a few more years of being broke to look forward to as well!

Ho hum, maybe I'd better do the lottery on Saturday ...

Life in the freezer

When I got back home after my post-hospital stay at my brother's last week (not allowed to be alone for the first night after the angio in case I bled to death!) I went straight to bed again. I got up around 5pm to a rapidly cooling house, and a strange vibration coming from the airing cupboard. Yes, you've guessed, just as a cold spell hits, my boiler packs up! A friend came to have a look at it on Monday and identified the problem - gas valve - but as the seal's gone on the boiler, and there is a water leak that has mercifully plugged itself with limescale (hurrah for being in a hard water area!) it looks like a new boiler is going to be the most sensible solution. He's giving me a few days to think about it (and him a chance to find a 2nd hand gas valve) but I've been so cold in the evenings I'm going to have to say to hell with the cost, and go for a new boiler. I know, I know, it's March, and we've only got another 6 weeks of central heating, but I just can't cope with having to cocoon myself in a duvet while I watch television in the evening. So, it's belt-tightening time, folks, no treats, no extras, no nothing! Just hours and hours of taking photographs of my stuff to sell on Ebay ...

... where did I put those 800 wooden rosebuds?

Hard-hearted?

Hard hearted, me? Well, technically speaking, there are parts of my heart that are hard. Take my arteries, for instance. On Friday I was lying on a trolley in a hospital with a tube going up my femoral artery to my heart: it was then pumped full of dye to show where my arteries are causing a problem (the problem being angina) and how bad it is.

I've had plenty of time to get used to the idea of having heart disease. My father had his first heart attack when he was in his thirties. His brother and sister have had heart attacks. His father died of a heart attack, so did his uncle, and so did his grandfather. It was safe to assume that I would one day develop the heart disease that every member of his family has had, but somehow I didn't think it would be just yet. After all, women are supposed to be protected by their hormones from heart disease, at least until the menopause, and I'm a long way off that. I guess that's why I tried not to think about the pains in my chest last summer. I thought it was because I was unfit, so I joined a gym. Didn't get any pain while I was there, but when I stopped going because I had a bad cough the pains started up again, and were worse than before. I finally went to the doctor just after Christmas and after a load of tests, got the 'good news'. Ah well, it's not the end of the world. My aunt and uncle are still alive and kicking (although the uncle looks as if it's the bucket he's going to be kicking pretty soon) and they're well over 20 years older than me. I've found out earlier than they did, so am taking preventive steps (and pills. Lots and lots of pills. And more exercise ...) so I'll probably outlive them all. Having said that, it was still a shock and I've felt pretty depressed ever since.

Friday's angiogram showed narrowing of one of the 3 major arteries, so I'm going to have to go back for another procedure and have angioplasty, and have a stent fitted. That involves another tube, this time containing a balloon and a mesh (the stent), being guided up to my heart. Once it's in place, the balloon will be inflated. This will expand the mesh, which will hold open the artery. The balloon is then deflated and removed.

I'm trying very hard to adopt a 'Whatever' attitude, rather than a 'What the fuck?' attitude - I need to save my emotional energy for fights that are worth it, instead of getting worked up about people who leave dirty spoons in the sink at work, instead of putting them in the dishwasher (or washing them!) and the fact that I am expected to help out other departments, when no other bugger in any other department will lend me a hand. It's simpler to just do it and shut up than to argue, but it's a lesson I'm finding very hard to learn.

Of course, timing is not good. The angioplasty is due in about 4 weeks - the same time as I'm supposed to be going to London for the weekend, and the same time that my new suite is due to arrive. Ah well, no point in getting worked up about it.