Long live King Elvis!

One of the good things about moving house is that you discover things you'd forgotten about (photo albums, dodgy shirts etc.). One of the bad things about moving house is that you invariably end up decorating it. However, why not combine the good, the bad (and the ugly (me)?) to relieve the boredom? I came across my CD collection that I haven't been listening to for a while since I got an iPod (thanks John ). My first choice was obvious...

I remember a drunken conversation circa 1994 when we had to choose the CD we would take for "company" on a deserted island. Compilations (and CD players with unlimited battery life) were obviously allowed, so my choice was "The Man: The Best of Elvis Costello" - crap title, great album. I listened to it last night and remembered every word. My favourite line, "They call her Natasha, but she looks like Elsie// I don't want to go to Chelsea". I still manage to feel slightly uneasy singing along to "Oliver's Army" but can't help it. I don't have an ex-girlfriend called Alison, but if I did, lost her and had an inkling of talent, I would write this song.

Elvis Presley is Dead, Costello is apparently soldiering on, and I'd prefer the latter any day.

Now I just need to rig up my record player (it's a machine with a, get this, "needle" that runs along grooves in a circular piece of vinyl and music comes out!). Once that 's done, the next compilation will be "Squeeze, 45s and Under"..."Up the Junction" anyone?

Hey, that's my excuse!

So we moved house recently. Top notch, no more toe-to-toe finger-pointing arguments with psychotic neighbours over the noise my children make while playing football in the garden; no more constant noise from the flats they are building only 5 metres away from my front window. Joy! Somewhat distilled however by spraining my wrist just before moving. Oops.

On the day I sprained my wrist, I decided to go to casualty (that's ER to all my US-based readers - oh, hold on, I don't have readers of any kind except for myself). I went to Hôpital Edouard Herriot; apparently it's a gem of 1930's architecture. Maybe it was a gem in the 1930s, but it's in need of some polishing 70 years later. However, the excitement amongst the staff was palpable (not the people who had arrived with serious head trauma) - they had just installed their brand-new patient management system. I was one of the first through the system. It was so efficient they were able to send me immediately to radiology for an x-ray of my potentially fractured wrist. A 5 minute wait, I'm in-out, but unable to shake it all about 'cos my wrist hurts like hell.
"Down to the waiting room and a doctor will be with you in 5 minutes for the diagnosis".
There were some people there in seriously bad shape. I thought it entirely acceptable that they should pass in front of a big-jessie like me. However, the French being the French, those with injuries who I judged to be no worse than mine started complaining after waiting less than an hour - like the good, repressed, don't-like-to-make-a-fuss, have-a-nice-cup-of-tea, type of Englishman that I am, I waited 3.5 hours before suggesting gently that I may have been forgotten.

My analysis was correct. The explanation was predictable: "new software system, glitches, you know what it's like with that sort of thing". Oh yes, I surely do, I've worked on enough software projects in the past to know exactly what it's like. Doesn't help when you've been sat in a waiting room staring at a wall for 4 hours though. Apparently, I was so fast through to radiology that the system didn't have time to enter me into the doctor's rota or god-knows-what. [Programmer's amongst you: maybe some kind of FIFO queue was needed - discuss].

To keep me interested (in a make-him-think-we're-doing-something kind of way), they put me in a cubicle with a first year medical student. She reassured me by saying that she'd been asked to look at some x-rays that morning and had diagnosed a sprained wrist, missing the fact that there was a double fracture..."yours seems OK though, but hold on, what's this.....oh no, nothing, I guess I'm just a bit paranoid after this morning, better to be safe than sorry, etc. etc.".

So half an hour later, a real doctor arrives, spends 30 seconds looking at the x-ray, diagnoses a sprained wrist, gives me a nice splint and a letter that allows me, if I want, to have 2 weeks off work. I guess you know me by now (2 weeks off work! A nice cup of tea is all that is needed here").

Moral of this tale: don't keep dissing the NHS and thinking that the French health service is so great. And don't trust software engineers.

One-line book reviews

I cannot remember a time when I have not been reading a book. Apparently I was a real tearaway until I learnt to read, and reading calms me even now. Many books have rested in my memory for many years. A few random examples:

• The History of Mr Polly, H.G Wells - part of my 'O'-Level exams, but re-read recently,
  
• Peopleware by Tom de Marcos, often dipped into,
  
• Stig of the Dump - read many times during my childhood.

I tend to steer clear of "life-changing" books, but when in Australia in '92, I read "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". It made real sense to me at the time and I even, God forbid, underlined several passages. I came across it 2 years ago and re-read it and apart from a few "hhmm, interesting thought" moments, it did very little. I have obviously evolved into a selfless, caring person and no longer need its help. Maybe.

We just moved house and I gave away or packed many of my books and couldn't remember which I had read in the last year or so. So here is the list as far as I can remember with my one line book review. It is in no particular order:

1. Great Expectations: What's a small boy doing out at that time of night?
2. The Kite Runner: My wife interrupted me while I was reading the last few pages and I got angry - I really got into this story. But it didn't make me want to buy a kite.
   
3. Small Island: Top-notch, well-constructed
4. The First Casualty: Nice description of what life in the trenches must have been like, but rather contrived and anyone who uses the phrase "throbbing member" gets a thumbs-down from me.
5. The strange incident of the dog in the nightime. I read this in French - aren't I clever? His dad did it.
6. Life of Pi: Bizarre in the extreme, but I felt sorry for him when the lion (or was it a tiger?) bolted at the end without even saying goodbye.
7. Angela's Ashes. Excellent writing style. Consumption eh? Sounds almost as bad as tuberculosis. Bought it and 'Tis for £2 in the Cancer Research Campaign shop. Bargain.
   
8. 'Tis: Poor follow-up. I lost interest in the character. I bought Teacher Man, but don't think I'll get round to reading it after this one.
9. The art of project management: Communication is the key to success.
10. David Copperfield: I really enjoyed reading this. It was my first dip into Dickens in a long time, but bizarrely I can remember very little about the plot.
11. Frankenstein: Deserves to be a classic
12. Dr Jeckyl and Mr Hyde: Didn't grip me as I expected it to, but at least it wasn't too long.
13. Moby Dick: I managed 100 pages and am amazed that I lasted that long.
14. Dracula: Can you tell that I went through a bit of a "classics" phase. Those Penguin classics are only £1 you know.
15. Hard Times: Hard going.
16. A Spot of Bother. A Richard and Judy holiday read if ever there was one.
17. Watching the English: Spot on.
18. Freakonomics: Confirmed my prejudices about Estate Agents
19. Does anything eat wasps? Yes, they do.
20. Going Solo (Roald Dahl): I wish I'd been a friend of his (of course, he would have hated me). Marrying his grand-daughter might also have been quite cool.
21. The Cat in the Hat: I love reading this really quickly to the kids - the words fit together perfectly.
22. Horrid Henry: References to smelly pants and poo never fail to raise a titter with anybody under 9 or over 35.
23. The Shining: I love the film, but heard that Stephen King hated it, so I read this. I prefer the film.
24. Mustn't Grumble: I needed a "nice cup of tea" after this one. I read it to make sure he didn't slag off the north of England too much.
25. A Tale of Two Cities: A tale of too hard to read.
    

Hey, that's quite a lot of books over a short time period. I guess I really do like reading.

Generic medication considered harmful (by me)

I wrote recently about strange seizures that I have been having recently, the most amusing of which is a complete loss of orientation (not knowing how to get from the bathroom to the living room, or not remembering the route home when you are on a bike ride for example). My doctor sent me to the neurologist who, in turn, referred me to the hospital to undergo the full gamut of available tests, notably an EEG.

Just after visiting the neurologist, I realised that a couple of months earlier I had switched from my medication, Lamictal, to its generic version, Lamotrigine. I was all pleased about this as it was costing the social security much less money to keep me from collapsing at random intervals. However, this change coincided with the new frequency of seizures and the new types of seizures. I immediately went back to the GP who gave me a prescription for the non-generic version. It was 10 days between switching back and the visit to the hospital. How about that - no seizures during that time. Pretty strong evidence that the generic medicine was to blame. However, with my scientific training, I realised that there may be other factors, one of which was the fact that, like an idiot, I fell off my bike during this time and had therefore done no exercise during the 10 days - maybe this had an influence.

I explained this to the neurologist (at the hospital - the French have such a convoluted healthcare system). Her immediate reaction (no translation needed) was "Ooh là là, catastrophe!". I'm now going into the realms that distinguish blogging from journalism, i.e. I have done no research to back this up, but according to her, there is a "20% difference" between the active ingredients in the proprietary and the generic version, and that some studies in the US are calling for the withdrawal of the generic version.

I thought generics were supposed to be the same as the patented versions, only cheaper? I don't think anybody reads this blog, but if you do, I would be interested in finding out more, I may be completely wrong on this one - for once, Google didn't help me.

Moral of this tale: don't just accept generics at face-value. You may be a good citizen, but you may be putting your health at risk...

A badly-timed slip

I'll keep this one short...
We are moving house on Saturday, so what is one of the most stupid things that you can do? How about falling off your bike on the way to work, spending the afternoon in hospital and having a sprained wrist that means that you are unable to lift boxes? Yep, that's what happened to me yesterday!
More news about the move, my hospital visit of yesterday (they had just installed a new patient management software which meant that I got lost in the system and no doctor was assigned to me and I spent 5 hours in the waiting room...) and next week's hospital visit where I get to undergo an EEG.

No more posts until I can write without wincing.

A bad trip

How about this for a Monday morning trip to work? I had to take the tram and know the journey by heart. However, this morning, I cycled to the tram stop (Lyon has a network of free bikes). After a couple of stops on the tram, I realised that a seizure was arriving (I found it hard to concentrate on the words in my book). I then did not know where I was. All I knew was that I was on the way to work and that when I got on the tram I knew where I was going so I must be going in the right direction. A couple of stops before mine, I realised where I was and all was well with the world. The good thing about all this is that you see things as if it is the first time so a tram ride becomes a voyage of discovery - who said I was a glass-half-empty kind of guy.

Still, I have a long-awaited trip to the neurologist this evening, so he can make another guess as to what treatment might work. I feel like a lab-rat.