A boiling pot. A seething mass. A red mist.

Temper.
Anger.
Rage.

Most people can get irritated quite easily, to varying degrees. For instance, whilst one person might find a third party's tuneless whistling to be nothing of any matter, another person might ask them to stop. If this person were sufficiently annoyed, they might ask harshly.
Another example is people's reactions when they are, for instance, hit accidentally by balls whilst walking across a busy schoolyard. One person might shrug it off, and pass the ball back to the culprit, whilst another might shout at them.

I, however, go further than this.
Much, much further.

I wouldn't say that an ACTUAL red mist descends across my vision, but it IS true to say that I generally seethe inside, unually quietly, but that occassionally I boil over.
The consequences are frightening.
I have hospitalised with broken bones at least five people who have annoyed me - true, they had either physically injured me, or attempted to, but I still overreacted. Having heard the mantra "turn the other cheek, and just walk away" since I was a mere babe-in-arms, I should adhere to it.
But I don't. At all.

I get angry at the pettiest of things:-
Blown lightbulbs.
Out-of-tune musical instruments.
Marks on my glasses.
Self-aggrandisers,
Bad drivers.
People who write with pens in books.

I also get angry at things which I should listen to, and usually just accept, namely criticisms of myself.

My temper is so bad that my parents now refuse to take me to practice my driving.
They're actually scared of what might happen if I got angry.

And to be honest, so am I.
It's actually quite depressing. I WANT to change. I'd do ANYTHING.
But nothing I try helps.
Breathing slowly? Pffft...
Counting to ten? I get lost after six.
Clenching and unclenching my hands repeatedly? Just gets me worked up.

I'm angry (irony much?) that I'm not allowed to drive, yes...
But I'm more worried than anything else.

I don't want to hurt anyone.
Least of all those I love.
But the potential is there. And it scares me.

Anyway.
On a lighter note, I command you all to buy two things, a.s.a.p. :-
i. The book "Musicophilia : Tales of Music and the Brain", by Olive Sacks. It's a wonderfully written study of some people's musical obsessions, and the effects (and affects) that music can have on people. Informative, occasionally funny, and definitely well-written, it's a book for everyone to read, THAT everyone SHOULD read.
ii. The CD "The Art of Motion", by Andy McKee. A stunning guitarist, and an amazing composer to boot, this CD is one of the best of the modern bunch of acoustic-guitarists available.

I've more or less had it decided for me that I'm not going for an organ scholarship.
I don't know whether I'll LISTEN to the decrees or not... But I know what familial opinion is.
I also know that mine differs.
WILDLY.

Anyhow, I hope you're all keeping well, and that you enjoyed your half-term, whatever you did.

COUNTDOWN TO EXAM INITIATION BEGINS NOW - 87 DAYS TO GO.
Scary, no?

End.

Blood. Surgery. Medicine, A dream...

This morning, I had to reacquaint myself with my old Strade routine, i.e.- Get up at 06:25, eat breakfast and attach a caffeine IV by 07:00, have a cold shower by 07:15, get dressed and leave the house byt 07:30. It was a fair bit easier than I was expecting it to be, to be honest. But I was born a morning person.
Come to think about it, I was also born a night person too, but that's another matter...
Actually... I tend to go to sleep in the MORNING, and wake up in the MORNING, so I suppose I really am a MORNING person...
Anyway.

The purpose of my "early" rising was work experience.
To be more accurate, Orthopaedic work experience.
I met Mr. Price, a consultant Orthopaedic Surgeon, at 08:00, and shadowed him and his team as they made their ward-round of the patients under their care.
These patients were a diverse lot. One was a 17-years-old female drug addict, who was on Methodone, to try and cure her of her habit, but had relapsed. When she attempted to inject a dose of Heroin into her system, using a vein in her right arm, the vein had collapsed, leading to the dose being deposited subcutaneously. This had led to the development of a cyst, full of pus and fluid (including residual Heroin). The cyst had to be incised, drained and padded, and the patient will require a lengthy course of antibiotics to insure against infection of the wound, which is left open to prevent bacterial culture.
Another patient was a 73-years-old male, who was in the habit of falling. Previously, he had been admitted with skeletal bruising to his left side, but was admitted yesterday with a broken left shoulder, and a broken hip. As the swelling surrounding both injuries was still quite new, it was impossible to take him to theater, but hopefully I'll be able to observe his operations tomorrow.
There were several other patients too, but it was after seeing them all on the wards that the REAL fun started...

I was led upstairs to the Operating Theatre block.
Here, I was directed to the changing-rooms, handed surgery-blues (THE most ill-fitting clothes ever invented, but I still FELT like the coolest guy alive...), and told to wait in the Surgeon's Mess (their canteen/common room area). After about five minutes, Mr. Price's pupil, a friendly Polak called Peter, called me through to the O.T.
Told to stand in a certain place, I then observed an operation to close a 4"x7"x2" wound to a 14-years-old's right knee, and a bone-graft and hip-repair operation on an 89-years-old female (see link below).

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/da/RightFemurIV.JPG

Rather than collapse (as many present in the O.T. evidently expected me to...), I kept moving in for a closer look, and firing questions at the surgeons and the supporting team.

I left after this operation, as my bola was a-calling, and thereafter got picked up to go home (which I where I am now).
I'm going back tomorrow, and hopefully will be able to sit in on more operations, and see more of the ward-rounds.

If this blog has so far sounded like a really bad personal-statement, my sincerest apologies to you all. I'm just recording everything I saw for posterity, and to show my admiration for the skill of the people involved in these operations.

On a different note...
I just want to apologise to Abi, for being such a shit to her.
I don't know why I was, but I know I SHOULDN'T have been.
So I'm sorry. From the bottom of my heart.

I love you, Ab.

End.

The fourteenth, but not the last.

Well, first of all, to yesterday.
One word to describe it.
Amazing.
Swansea and cinema with the Lady Hammett (who should TECHNICALLY be the Maiden Hammett... :P). I would advise everyone to go and see "Edge of Darkness", but to pay more attention to it than I did... (A)
Afterwards, whilst wandering slightly aimlessly around Swansea whilst waiting for the bus home, we entered WH Smiths, on a quest for a "Mr. Moses Notebook", which had to "be really, really pretty", as Ab put it.
Whilst there, we bumped into Cat-Face and her man-friend. This devolved into total anarchy, and the taking-over of Swansea by Sophie's epic shoes.
We eventually got onto a bus (which was a non-conformist bus, which had a scary drivier whom I bravely approached for information pertaining to its route and timetable...), and had a hilarious ride home, apart from the stabbing and burning pains in my chest, but these subsided after about 15mins.

The only downer on the whole day was the fact that Papi Hammett turned up almost an hour earlier than he'd said, and several hours earlier than myself and my other half would have liked. It was, to say the least, an interruption...

As a by-note, I would recommend that everyone go out - RIGHT NOW - and purchase a pair of "EXSPECT" earphones. The pretty ones, with eleven different coulour end-caps (completely pointless, I know, but it's the kind of gimmick that imemdiately attracts me to something).
The have some of the best bass-drivers I've ever had the pleasure of inserting.
The make me jizz. End of.
BUY BUY BUY. NOW NOW NOW.
They're only £10 in His Master's Voice now, but HURRY!! ONLY WHILST STOCKS LAST!!

As to the title... It's a cold, hard fact. I couldn't think of a decent name, so I essentially LABELLED it.
Apologies.
But, as a matter of fact, it does refer to yesterday, quite well...

End.

Dumbstruck amazement.

I must be honest. I haven't liked ALL the presents I've ever received.
I have received things (e.g. an umbrella, a packet of pencils, a ring-binder, etc.) that have, quite frankly, left me stone cold. I mean, who wouldn't prefer to have a new CD, or a good book, or a video-game?
Still, on these occassions, I have maintained a sense of decorum. I have profusely thanked the giver, whomsoever they may have been, and at least seen the LOGIC behind the present, if not actually WANTED it.
However, I was stunned by the reaction of someone last night, whose birthday is today, and whose present I gave to her last night.
Instead of thanking me for getting her the new Priests (whom I was under the impression she LOVED...) CD, I instead got "Oh, I hope it's not all hymns... Great...".
I was astonished. Money had been spent, and the effort taken to buy the damn CD, and the thought of getting someone something they (supposedly) would very much enjoy. But it was met with no so much as a VENEER of thanks.
I'm not asking for it to actually be appreciated. I wouldn't mind. "Oh... Well, I'm not a huge fan of hymns, and I think this'll be quite similar to the first album... But thank you anyway" would have sufficed.
But no. It wasn't to be.
Now I am DESPERATELY trawling the internet (specifically Amazon and iTunes), trying to find something that will be met with the SLIGHTEST degree of approval.
I think I'll fail. I always do.
But at least my conscience is clear.

Off on a seperate tangent now...
I'm surprised that my driving is coming along so nicely.
Having been used to driving tractors, I understood the THEORY of driving better than PRACTICAL driving. I used to treat cars like tractors, and swing them out for junctions, and trundle along in a high gear, at low revs. Which is perfect for maximum possible torque when driving a tractor.
But bloody useless when trying to pull away quickly from a junction in a car.
Although I do occassionally lapse, and incur the wrath (EVER so mildly, to be fair) of my instructor, he says I'm coming along amazingly well.
Soon, I should be ready to take my practical test.
APPARENTLY...
PERSONALLY, I'd like at least another month of practice.
Just to be safe.
But I have to be honest, and say that I'm pretty chuffed with myself.

And another tangent...
I'm amazed how easy it is to UNDERSTAND work, but not to REMEMBER it.
Yesterday morning, I had a mock Chemistry AS exam. I did NOT revise, as I wanted to see what I knew, and therefore what I need to CONCENTRATE on.
Apparently, I've scraped a pass. Therefore, it seems pretty obvious that what I know doesn't amount to much.
But, according to the head of Chemistry in Gorseinon, it's obvious that I understand the work, having read my answers. However, it's ALSO obvious that I didn't revise, and therefore don't remember it.
But I'm determined to pass my AS levels with sodding flying colours, so I'm going to start pulling my finger out (not LITERALLY, of course...), and revising now and then.

I'm also looking for a new bass-guitar, and possibly a double-bass.
And a new guitar.
If any of you who read this know someone/somewhere who/which can sell me a jazz bass-guitar, or a hollowbody guitar, I'd be very greatful to you. The same applies to the double-bass issue, although, being a TAD more specialized, I don't expect many results on that front.

Anyway, thank you for reading.
Goodness knows WHY you do... You must have infernally boring lives.
But thank you anyway.
I hope your week, so far, is going well.

End.