Laudus Himself

This isn't just food. This is NHS food. Subtitle: The Little Things for earlier posts, click here I'm told my The Bastard Noose posts are all a bit sad and depressing. Can't think why. Because I’m so desperate for affection I promised a lighter post, so I thought I'd run through the facilities in the Emergency Department. Obviously it isn't a hotel (at least, not until the building is inevitably sold off and restored as a “boutique resort” with ironic medically themed rooms and the birthing pools turned into jacuzzis), but I was there for eight days which is longer than I’ve stayed in most hotels. In the spirit of a happier tone on my part, here is a breakdown of the ED’s hospitality in case you ever have to spend a night or more(!) in a bay there. Or really in any hospital ever, for anything. Private hospitals don't count, obviously. They have a much nicer atmosphere which you are more likely to die in. The Room A room that isn't...

  "It's a facade, and it's exhaustive" Eminem ( Walk on Water ) Intro / Admission / The ED I'm aware this is another one from the ED, and is a bit of a wandering piece- but my more concise draft got deleted accidentally (by me) and I wanted to post during Mental Health Awareness Week. The Bastard Noose's first section was always meant to be a series set in the ED, a long form story told piecemeal, with one revelation intended for later being that the ED wasn't a stop gap. It wasn't the brief transition between crisis and care. I spent eight, interminable, odd, yet at times very loved days in that booth. Trying to recover or remain or whatever the hell I was there to do while daily being told about the awful bed situation for mental care was taxing, I won't lie. Eight days. That was supposed to be a reveal in a few posts, but it didn't feel right to keep dragging it out. Once I'd told the ED part of my tale, plan was t...

Previous posts: Intro / Admission This isn’t a story. There isn’t a beginning, middle and an end; however much I try to frame it like that. There definitely isn't an end, at least not one you'd like. These posts are thoughts, experiences and emotions told in whatever way my vocabulary and mood will allow me. Emphasis and tone will shift and I hope there’s something good about that for you. Roll right up, a surprise every time. After my admission to hospital, the Emergency department became my new home. The sick, the old, the lonely and the drunks. The mentally ill, too. It was frightening frankly. Luminous and illuminating, the Emergency Department (ED) saw me quickly in a bay and assessed. Assessed, re-assessed, and once I'd accepted the idea of staying, wired up. Plugged in to some delicious saline-solution- water in my veins. Those awful, blue reminders of my failure drank like a rummy on shore release. They were thirsty; my heart rate was up and I was dehy...

INTRO HERE Foreword: This series is essentially a journal, written from notes and based on my perspectives at the time. In order to explain, I hope to help you understand. I do not always come across well, and I am aware of that, but it is only fair as I will be honest about those I met, too. This first part is dark, and I don't apologise for that because this was the darkest part of my life. I have to portray that fairly. This isn't over, but I want it to be clear that I am not in this place now. I wouldn't be putting this piece out if I didn't feel strong enough to talk about it. Part 1: Admission When you try to kill yourself, the last thing your confidence needs is to be so fat that the noose snaps. Smoking my fifteenth, or possibly fiftieth, cigarette of the day, I thought about just walking away. Running, if my legs would let me. The south circular, a famous river of smog which creeps through London like a diseased artery, never looked so enticin...

I'm not in a crisis. Yes you are. You tried to die. Introduction A very good friend used to refer to pretty much everyone with mental health or sanity issues as “nut nuts”. I am sure he meant it affectionately and knowingly, as he fit his own criteria. He was more self aware than he cared to admit. I will use his term in places throughout; please don't be offended by it. I'd ask him to clarify, but he's dead. That has a lot to do with this too. Nut nut. Never thought it'd be me but it is, by a lot more people's definition than I am really very happy about. Even if they don't use the same phrase as Matty . I am not going to go into every specific detail of my experience as some of that is private to me. Not all, though. Please remember that this is something I am still dealing with and remains very raw. A lifetime of confusion thrown into a month in a mental health ward and spat out the back end to where I am now.  I can not offer you the sa...

“Fill this with beer, and I will give you money” Those words will forever be my reminder. I can't write a raised eyebrow. An arched, sardonic, eyebrow twisted to one side of the face, condensing the other to a slit. The wry look at you as the oculus expresses the hidden humour, the knowing joy behind the presented cynicism. The corner of the mouth twitches, unable to quite contain it. Ok it turns out I can, roughly, but it's still not as good as he did it. Five years ago my beloved, funny, rambunctious and as or more flawed than me, friend finally died after cancer weaved its wicked web of pain and misery through him. Through him and worse, back into the living. The insidious little shit that is cancer, like the bully it should be called, continued to create conflict when we thought the worst was done. Matt spiralled into the unknown in a way that was so banal it'll tear you open. A man of his charisma, his jollity, slowly, painfully and worst, robbed of his p...

Exam Question 1.1. LAS VEGAS IS A HELL OF A  PLACE [OF HELL]: DISCUSS Las Vegas: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 Las Vegas: The Good, The Bad and The Weird The Good The Boxing I mean, just obvious this one. Talked about throughout my other posts. Sustenance. The Weather English people love a moan about the weather, “Oh I like it hot but not this hot. This is too hot.” Stay in England then, and have the weather you deserve. I like it 30-40 degrees and in a country which is actually set up to cater for it. I'd probably pick Greece over the USA though. Maybe. I haven't thought that through. I loved going for little walks in the heat. Flying Virgin Atlantic They’re just really good. Way better than Delta, which I know is a low bar, and I'm aware Branson is single handedly buying out the NHS. Whatever, I'll take my free wine as (partial) compensation. More wine Branson, you dick! Smooth Eats Their ginger shots there I’ve have unsuccessfully...