T + 384 days. "My name is Stan and this is Brian - We're on a quest."

09/03/2014

Haemoglobin:         10
White Blood Cells: 4.85
Platelets:                 39
Neutrophils:           4.43

Weight: 64.1 kg

Some stats to start off with (may I say as an ex-local authority middle manager oooooohhh luvverly excel stats - these used to get my juices flowing) as it's been a  year and a bit  since I started writing this I thought I'd go through the blogspot stats package to see who has been following and where.   Here's how it breaks down 7087 separate instances comprise the top ten viewers as tabulated below

	Country	No of Views
	1. United Kingdom	5394
	2. United States	620
	3. Canada	231
	4. Latvia	219
	5. Germany	187
	6. Ireland	116
	7. Ukraine	116
	8. Russia	85
	9. Poland	63
	10. France	56

 the total number of page views, which the BlogSpot standard stats-pack is unable to break down and display is 7855 page views - which in the words of the Fast Show 'was nice'. This comprises of a whole different batch of countries from further afield such as UAE, Greece, China, Australia and New Zealand. So fast approaching 8000 page views for this dross - can't say I'm not surprised, but it's nice surprise.

One thing I do know is that I have so little personal application to stuff like this that there's no way if I hadn't been effectively quarantined in a small room with occasional access to psycho-active pharmaceutical and a laptop that any of it would have been written  - Ha!

Back to business if memory serves, high WBC and neutrophil counts indicate that the immune system is fighting back at something so maybe this indicates it's having a pop at the GVHD. In the day I'm going around four hours now between needing the top up morphine jabs for my stomach, which is a huge improvement on the earlier part of the week when it was barely holding me for two hours at a stretch.

I've put on weight - which is brilliant as I have been really making an all out effort to eat consistently. The docs have now decided not to wait for one last night to see if I manage to go to the loo unaided as I haven't managed for 5 days now so have just been given a couple of Senna tablets - let's hope it's gentle. A guy we know called Russell Etherington who used to work with Jeannette once memorably imparted to me that - in terms of medical tissue the maxim "Shite is Light" always applies. I'm banking on the fact that sitting here filling my face and doing hardly any physical activity for 5 days will have kicked on a couple of kilos on me.

Since I'm not dispensing my own meds any more it's a bit harder to keep current with the dosages but as far as I can tell; my prednisolone has been reduced to 40 mg per day (which is still high) but probably about due for titration as I've got a brand new thing going on to tell y'all about in a bit. Mycophenalate has also been dropped to 750mg twice a day  - from 1000mg three times a day. I'm a little bit concerned about this final change as these are the pills that keep my mouth ulcers in line and I've started to notice they're becoming a little more sore each day and live in dread of a full tilt return like last time. Cyclosporin has been maintained at 150mg twice daily as the general big daddy of immune-suppression.

If you will permit a rather laboured simile, I'll liken what the team are doing here to one of those plate on a stick spinning/balancing acts from the old style talent hunt shows of the 70s and 80s - with the docs trying to keep all the GVHD symptoms (plates) at the very least stable - if not in recession, at the same time as trying to minimize or even reduce my drug intake - which would concern itself with the wiggling of the sticks to keep the GVHD spinning and...err oh bollocks - not a very good simile at all there really....

My new thing is that since the platelet count has dropped - and in combination with the skin thinning side effect from the Prednisolone I've found that I make myself bleed from little scratches wherever I itch. The cumulative impact over the last couple of days means that pretty much anywhere that I've had a quick itch has left a drawn a spot of blood, so my lower and upper arms, forehead, scalp, face and back all look like I've been in mortal combat with hordes of Ninja Field Mice. I've taken to wearing the disposable gloves when the urge gets too bad so they're getting a chance to heal I did also trim my nails back to nothing which might have been sensible to do in he first place. Sounds worse than it actually looks but I think it may impact on my progress through to the beauty pageant regional finals from the local events here.

The Small Faces circa '68 getting on with the neighbours.

Listened to a stunning Small Faces documentary on 4 Live earlier (it maybe still on i-Player) covering the Ogdens Nut Gone Flake Album (Song of a Baker, Tin Soldier, Lazy Sunday et al.) Hard to credit that these guys were only 21 years old when they made this and had already been making music like Sha La La La Lee, All or Nothing and Get Yourself Together for 3 years.

Amazing to hear Steve Marriot and Ronnie
Lane being interviewed sounding so young and vital considering the shite-storm that both of them were facing in the coming years - and most of all from the Small Faces ensemble just the natural raw blues of their free musicality and effortless creativity that seemed to flow from them at this time. I suppose the aftermath - that it broke the band - with Marriot jumping ship to form Humble Pie signifies that it was not the all harmonious bunch of best mates making music together that my paisley tinted memory would wish it to be.

Early Days

By direct contrast I then listened to another musical hero of mine from a similar period Brian Wilson talking about the making of Pet Sounds which was in it's own way - and two years prior to ONGF - even more revolutionary. But the contrast in production method and technique could not have been further apart. Wilson cast as the driven, bug eyed, tripping studio alchemist contrasting with the (OK not entirely drug free) Small Faces more organic 'getting it on in the country approach'.

Creative Zenith wheels wobbling

It's probably quite reasonable to take as a start point that the reason Brian Wilson pulled harmonies and tunes that no one else could hear out of the air was that partly due to his damaged sense of hearing as to the fact that he wasn't wrapped too tight even at the start of their career in the sixties.
Father Murray dominated and bullied him and the rest of the group, Dennis ridiculed him and I think the less said about Terminator Mike Gold's swivel-eyed, thousand yard stare the better.

Wheels off jib jib !

No matter how many times he now gets sent out on tour as rehabilitated and fixed and back on original Brian circa 1966 genius form, it's apparent to anyone prepared to use their eyes that he never will be - and only ever was for about 6-8 months back then. His thought processes sound as though they're generated by half set omlette batter rolling around his brain pan giving him that breathless constantly surprised tone of just having heard every question for the first time that and the fluttering hands. Love the guy - and love his work, just feel sick inside that he was indulged for so long as a cash cow by his peers to the point that there was never going to be any way back for him.