I used to call the blog DivemasterDad, but then my daughter went and delivered my first grandchild on 1st September 2011, therby making me a proud Grandad. This is a site to relate my experiences, ideas, opinions, thoughts and dreams about anything and everything...
Tuesday, May 13, 2025
Maybe I should post something...
Yes, I'm still here. Still kicking. Still cycling. Still...whatever.
I'm exceptionally happy right now for my Brother Max. He's in a good spot just now, possibly the best frame of mind he has been in a while. Or at least that's the impression that I get from the postings on his blog and family-related happenings over last weekend. Awesome to see and read! And long may it get better and continue! He deserves the happiness! He has some work challenges to be addressed with his contract renewal, but I believe he will get the right outcome for himself and, ultimately, for the company.
{/rant on}
On the home front, things are a little tense around here. I knew something was wrong last night when we sat down to dinner and mom wasn't saying anything, wasn't looking around, just staring straight into her plate. When I asked what was up, mom shed a tear and said she doesn't like the tension she can feel in the house. I don't blame her, because it's true. Fact of the matter is that the Nephewmonster is pushing all my wrong buttons...again, and again, and again. He is a defiant and sneaky little fucker at times, tries to get away with all sorts of things despite knowing that if he got caught doing/not doing them, he would be in trouble. But he does them anyway.
An example..... he has a homework book, in which he has to write down all the homework he has to do, every day there is homework. My rule is that I get to see the book every day and when there is no homework, draw a neat line for the day, and write "No homework". Simple, right? Not for him, apparently. And last week, I get a notification through the school portal that he has earned two demerit points for not doing his homework the night before. Needless to say, I let rip and have grounded him for a week, with no tech at home (tablet, TV). He can listen to his music, that I have no problem with and actively encourage his interest in it. Again, I have drawn a line and have demanded that he show me his homework book daily, so that I can see (and sign) what he has to do on the day. If he gets any more demerit points for homework not done, he will be grounded for two weeks. Do it again, and it will be four weeks, doubling each time there is a transgression. For some reason, the only way to get through to him is to take away his tech privileges. Hell, one day I might even take away his bike for a while and see how that works, if it works. He gets inconvenienced by not having his tech, but you can see he just shrugs it off and carries on. In truth, it doesn't truly bother him, so I wonder if it's even the right way of doing things. Maybe taking the bike away will be a true test of how it bothers him. He loves his bike, is always out on it, and it is his primary means of getting around to school and to his mates.
And that's just one example of what he does/doesn't do. There are a bunch more which, again, get lip service and just end up back at Square One and another button gets pushed, until I explode again.
My take on it all at the moment, is that I've had enough. I'm tired of proverbially smashing my head against a wall on an almost daily basis. If he was my boy, I would have beaten some sense and some respect into him, just like we had in my youth. And before any Karen's go off about discipline, it did me fuckall harm. In fact, it taught me a lot of things, such as respect, care, discipline, morals, etc... The problem is that I can't give him a hiding, and he knows it and plays to it. I've threatened him a couple of times about delivering him to his mother in Cape Town so that she can put up with his shit, because I don't need it. Why should I? I'm supposed to be retired. Instead, I'm just tired. It might be time to have this discussion with him again, but the next time I do, it will be the ABF (absolutely bloody final) time we have it and if ever there's an occasion where I'm in this frame of mind again, I will just collect him at school and get on the highway to Cape Town, no questions asked or answered.
{/rant off}
On the personal side, I sometimes have too much time on my hands, either because I'm putting off something non-urgent that should be done but can be delayed, or because I'm feeling tired. My main cause of tiredness is the mental exhaustion the Nephewmonster brings out in me, spoken about earlier. The other cause of my tiredness is my cycling. I'm currently doing between 200 and 300km a week, depending on the length of the club rides and whether I go out for a lengthy solo ride on one of the days. Perhaps it's too much, but I'm enjoying it all, despite the very cold temperatures these days.
Physically, I'm in very good condition, definitely the best I have been in almost 20yrs. I'm now just over 2kg above my target weight of 80kg, having started at 106kg about 4yrs ago when we moved to Sedgefield.
And, on that, this coming Saturday will be exactly four years to the day that we left Cape Town. So much has happened, both good and bad, in that relatively short period. Life-changing things.
Mentally, I'm in a good position too. Yes, I still sometimes get lonely, but that's expected. And I know I'm not alone in that regard. We all feel it on occasion, even if there is a "significant other" in the picture. It's part of human nature. In the end, we are social animals and need that occasional interaction with other humans. Sadly, and to be brutally honest, I don't get enough of it at home, but that's just me. It's when I'm out with friends that I think my real current self comes out. C'est la vie...
Look after yourselves out there, folks...be kind to each other...
Thursday, May 08, 2025
An Update on "M"...
As usual, I went to visit S in the TLC care facility where she is a dementia patient. The last couple of times I've been, there has been a split-second hesitancy in S recognising me when I walk in the door. I know this is going to get worse as time goes on, with her eventually not recognising me at all. This week, however, it seems to have taken another turn.
The patients do a number of exercises in the facility, and I happened to walk in on one on Tuesday. They were sitting in pairs, across the tables from each other, playing a sort of Beer Pong but without the shooters. Basically, they bounce a table tennis ball across the table to try and land it in a wide-brimmed cup, taking turns as they go along. It is good for their motor skills and reactions.
S and I played together, mostly with me coaxing her on what to do, almost every time she had to play the ball. One of the symptoms of her condition is that she has almost zero memory of processes or repetitive actions and loses her train of thought within seconds.
As is her usual self, she was also chatting animatedly to her friend Grace who was at an opposite table. What was disturbing, was that she was repeatedly telling Grace that "Steven will be here soon, and we're going to the farm."
Yes, disturbing in that we don't have a farm, have never been to a farm together and don't actually know anybody who has a farm. More so, was the fact that I was sitting directly opposite her and she was talking about me as if I wasn't even there. Her spatial cognisance is really starting to get bad, and I think it may not be too much longer until she does not recognise me anymore...
Look after yourselves out there, folks.....be kind to each other...
Thursday, May 01, 2025
On a lighter note...
If you're ever considering a crash course in weight loss, I fully recommend Picoprep, the stuff I had to drink for my cleansing.
Overnight, I lost 3.5kg. Just goes to show how much is sitting in our gut.
Follow me for more weight loss advice...
Look after yourselves out there, folks...be kind to each other...
Wednesday, April 30, 2025
Today is my birthday...
No, it isn't. It's Colonoscopy Day. But it may as well be my birthday...
Carrying on from my last posting about the Colonoscopy preparation, a few things happened after I left off.
I closed off last night just after 22h00, after I guzzled 250ml of electrolytes to keep me hydrated for the night. Here's what happened after that...
At 01h45-ish, I wake up, thinking my stomach is grumbling. I think I'm hungry, but something else says RUN. So I make my way to the loo, stubbing my toe on the foot of the bed on the way.
I point the old Rusty Starfish into the Big White Porcelain Telephone (BWPT) as I had been doing for much of the previous afternoon and wait for the fireworks. Nothing.
Stomach grumbles. Still nothing.
Then, from nowhere, I feel my body start to sweat. Strange, I thought, as it's about 12deg outside and raining. Then I realize what's coming.
Twice before in my life, both times (strangely) on an airplane at 35,000 feet, I've needed the loo and broken out into a complete cold body sweat while on the BWPT. No apparent reason, and it lasted only about 5mins both times. Then I wiped my brow and returned to my seat. Story over.
Last night though, was a different kettle of fish. Sitting on the BWPT the sweat broke out all over my body, from the top of my head to my feet on the floor and all orifices in between. I felt it running down my back, my chest, my arms, everywhere. I heard it drip onto the floor from my elbows leaning on my knees. It actually puddled at my feet and I had to wipe it with a towel later.
In between, Rusty had opened up again too and was doing his bit to add to the liquids leaving my body, so I was literally kakking up a sweat.
And the difference between this time and the others is that this lasted for almost half an hour. I was in agony, my stomach in knots, all my pores open, Rusty spouting all sorts of shit into the BWPT.
By the time it was over, I had just enough energy to clean up and crawl back to bed.
I must say though, I slept well after that, probably exhausted.
The alarm went off at 06h45 as it was set to do, and I considered resetting it for 30 more minutes as I could only shower and get dressed. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything before the procedure, which would mean nothing solid in 24hrs and nothing liquid in 10hrs.
My very good friend, Mr Miyagi of cycling fame, arrives on time to take me to the medical centre. As I'm going to be under a mild general anaesthetic, I'm not allowed to drive myself home afterwards. It's a big sacrifice for him, as it will be most of the day waiting for me and I'm eternally grateful for him.
At the medical centre, I fill in more forms, almost duplicate of what I'd filled in online previously, then I am shepherded through to a ward where there is already a guy in one of the six beds. He was a doctor, as it turns out, but sounded like he was in really bad shape.
I'm given a hospital gown to put on, some tissue undies, and a tissue haircap. Very degrading, probably degradable too. Then I have to get into bed and wait to be wheeled through. With time on my hands, I message a few peeps, play a few word games, browse a few sites. Yawn.
Just as I put down my phone though, in walks a couple I recognize as the Joneses, also from Sedgefield. We sometimes cycle together. As it turns out, AJ was also there for a colonoscopy. We chat a bit and then he also has to do forms and gowns, and the curtains are drawn between us.
A few minutes later, I'm wheeled through to another ward to wait a bit longer, after which this subtly gay guy comes through to tell me what's going to happen. Ladies, you would have been jealous of this guy's manicured fingernails. Wow.
Shortly thereafter, the lady anaesthesiologist comes through and chats, tells me more of what's going to happen, then she sticks a needle in my left hand and disappears after telling gay nurse about a black jumper she'd bought in Woolies in Cape Town a couple of days earlier. Fascinating.
Next I'm wheeled into what I thought was just another room, but after seeing the large light on the ceiling realised it was the surgery. The doctor is sitting at a computer monitor with his back to me. People are bustling around and I'm trying to focus on too many things at once to remember any single thing.
Eventually the doc comes to me, introduces himself, tells me more of what is going to happen and goes back to his monitor. The nurse lays my bed flat and asks me to lie on my left side, and I see the anaesthesiologist lift the drip tube that's in my arm.
The next time I open my eyes I'm back in the ward where it all started. Job done. Wait. What? What happened?
I'm a bit groggy from the drugs, but otherwise I am perfectly fine. No pain AT ALL. No discomfort anywhere on my body.
I forgot to mention....this trip also included a Gastroscopy, in which they shove a tube down your throat to check out the stomach and gut from the top end.
Again, no discomfort or pain. AT ALL. I'm amazed.
A nurse, not the gay bloke, comes in and asks how I am, and would I like my sandwich and coffee, but I ask her to give me a few minutes to gather myself.
I say "gather myself". In truth, I needed time to fart. And let me tell you, after this procedure, you fart long, and you fart loud. They apparently blow air up your butt to open the pipes properly and of course this air is trapped by Mr Rusty Starfish. He is, after all, a one-way valve. Or supposed to be. 🤔
I had bad stomach cramps a few minutes after waking and realised what it was when they started becoming less painful the more I farted. So I farted long, loud and proud. Nobody else was there to hear me. AJ was still in theatre, and the Doc in the next bed was snoring his head off.
Next thing I did was grab the bottle of Jungle Juice I'd brought with me and down half of it. Jungle Juice is what I call the electrolyte drink I use on cycle rides. Because I hadn't had any liquids that morning, I needed some, fast. Then I asked the nurse to bring my sandwich.
Needless to say, I was starving by that time and the toasted ham, cheese and tomato went down like a torpedoed battleship. The coffee was right behind it.
In the meantime, AJ had been wheeled back into the ward. I thought he was sleeping, but then I realised that he was doubled over with stomach cramps when he too started farting. At least I tried to keep the decibels down. AJ had no such reservations.
I grabbed my phone out of the bedside table drawer and notified a few people that I was okay and would be discharged shortly.
Eventually the doctor comes through and asks me if I ever get heartburn. Huh, what kind of question is that and what does it have to do with my colon? Actually, nothing. During the Gastroscopy he'd noticed a red mark somewhere on my oesophagus and associated it with reflux. I told him the only time I might have heartburn would be after a really heavy night out or maybe a particularly spicy meal, but he insisted that I must be suffering more often than that. WTF? Anyway, he writes me a script for some tablets and says "Take those for a week and let me know what you feel". I take his script but I know I'm not going to take his pills. It's like he was determined or obliged to prescribe something to me following the procedure. Speaking of.....the doc gave me the "A-okay, all clear". There is zero wrong with either end of my gut. Thankfully.
Poor Mr Miyagi must have been pulling his hair out by the time I was led through to reception where he was sitting bouncing his legs up and down.
The drive home was spent describing the above and talking about various other subjects Mr Miyagi and I have in common interest. A lot about cycling.
At home, I make us a cup of coffee and we chat some more. We also chat about how I'm not able to go camping with them next week because I'm having a checkup done on the two stents I had put in two years ago. Just my luck the appointment falls on the week most suited to go camping, weatherwise anyway. I also need to go to George next week to have the bakkie windscreen changed as there is a big crack in it from a stone a while back. Insurance is paying for that.
I then get changed into track pants and slippers. It's raining and cold outside, so I'm going nowhere, doing nothing, just letting the anaesthetic wear off completely.
By the time 17h00 comes around, mother and I have cracked open the OBS and we're considering what to order in for dinner. Just when we'd instead decided to head out to the new Texas Grill for eisbein, the Nephewmonster comes in and shows us that his body is covered in red spots!!
He says they're not itchy so I don't know what the hell he's picked up. The school put out an alert a few weeks ago that there was some Hand, Foot and Mouth disease going around in some of the kids. It might be that, but I'll get him to the quack in the morning to confirm.
My takeaway delivered pizza was delicious. Just one slice was more than I'd eaten in the previous 31hrs, so I had 5 slices to make up for my loss.
So why did I say it was my birthday at the start? Well, apart from the spotty monster, I've actually had a great day, all considered. It is especially satisfying to know that you have been given a clean bill of health on something which affects so many people.
Also, tomorrow is a special day for another reason............ Maybe more on that late tomorrow night or Friday. Maybe.
Look after yourselves out there, folks.....be kind to each other...
Anonymous commenters...
Things is, I would also like to know who you are. Just a name would be enough. Doesn't matter if I know you or not.
In the comments section, there is a choice labelled "Name/URL" where you can type in your name. Touch on that and enter your name. I'd love to hear from you.
Please...tell me your name. 🙏
Look after yourselves out there, folks.....be kind to each other...
Tuesday, April 29, 2025
Diary of a Colonoscopy..
So, as per my previous post, I am having my first colonoscopy tomorrow as part of my complete physical checkup. Getting older sucks, so take my advice and don't get old if you can help it.
No, I'm kidding. Go out and live life to the fullest. Make sure that colonoscopy, when it comes around, is worth every damn cent your medical aid isn't going to cover.
Anyway......so part of the procedure is what's known as a "cleansing". What a misnomer. Cleansing is something you might do to your car engine when it's running sluggishly. Come to think of it, that's quite a good analogy.
In your car engine, you would pour a liquid additive into your fuel tank and after a few splutters and farts, the engine exhaust pipe should be burning a mild grey colour rather than a dark black. Much the same grey as my backside is right now, I would hazard a guess.
The cleansing consists of a powder, actually quite pleasant tasting, dissolved in lukewarm water and taken three times, once every three hours. The other thing you need to do is drink copious amounts of water. About a liter per hour, actually. I feel like I'm drowning.
I imagine most people who go through this cleansing must go through a similar experience, but here's a blow-by-blow account of mine. See if you can relate... I doubt it.
08h00 - breakfast - two microwaved eggs on white bread toast. Lovely and tasty. The last solid food until after the procedure tomorrow. From now on it is water, black coffee or Bovril. Nothing else.
10h00 - drink first glass of water - no worries there
10h30 - drink second glass of water
11h00 - drink third glass of water
11h30 - drink fourth glass of water. Go for a pee.
12h00 - mix the cleansing powder in lukewarm water - drink fifth glass of water - starting to get concerned about causing a shortage of water in the town
12h30 - drink what feels like twentieth glass of water. Water restrictions have been imposed in town
13h00 - drink the evil powdered potion and lay back to wait for the fireworks to begin. It's supposed to take 2 to 3 hours before anything happens. Actually, it tastes a pleasant citrus flavour...not bad. Drink thirtieth glass of water. Lie on the bed with a direct line of access of the Big White Porcelain Telephone
13h10 - have a pee
13h30 - drink fiftieth glass of water. Have a pee. Stomach starts grumbling. Maybe it's just that I'm hungry. Maybe not.
14h00 - yep, you guessed it...drink seventieth glass of water. Have a pee. Have a cup of Bovril as lunch but also to not have to drink another glass of water. Walk about the bedroom, in case motion will bring on movement. Stomach grumbling louder.
14h30 - Hmmmm...no fireworks yet. I wonder if this stuff works. Drink ninetieth glass of water
14h40 - have a pee
15h00 - water. Water disaster declared province-wide. Water tankers brought in from next town. Stomach grumbling so loud the cat lifts its head to investigate
15h30 - national water disaster declared. Not caused by myself, this time because of ANC government theft. Drink one hundredth glass of water
16h00 - drink second citrus-flavoured concoction. Seriously wonder if this stuff works. Drink two hundredth glass of water
16h01 - squeak out a little fart. Oh wait......... RUN!!
I am shitting myself...
For those that want the gory details, tomorrow I'm going for a colonoscopy. This will be my first, and it is something one should (apparently) do when one is getting on in years to make sure that all is well down in the land of the Rusty Starfish.
Firstly, I'm not allowed to eat anything between now and tomorrow. Nothing solid anyway. I am, however, allowed to drink clear soups like Bovril and chicken broth. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?
Then, at around 13h00, I have to start taking a special drink to begin emptying the gut, so I'm pretty much housebound for the rest of the day after that. I've been told to not trust a fart. Sound advice which I will take to heart.
I also have to drink copious amounts of water during the whole treatment, but at least I can have energy drinks and the like and it doesn't have to be clear, tasteless water, which I really don't like.
Anyway, the doctor's receptionist has just called to confirm the time, so now I officially start shitting myself...literally.
Look after yourselves out there, folks.....be kind to each other...
Friday, April 25, 2025
A Silent Call for Help...
And I can't blame her. "K" is having the same challenges and stresses with her parents as I've had recently with M. In fact, more than what I had, as she is dealing with both of her parents descent into dementia at the same time.
K and I lived in the same village, and went to the same school, in KZN more than 40yrs ago. I would have been about 15, and she about 12, when we first met. We were carefree, enjoying our youth, nothing more than school to worry about really. We lost touch when I left the village to go and work in Durban after finishing matric in 1979. That's life.
We hadn't heard from each other, hadn't even friended each other on FB before a few weeks ago, until I saw her invitation in my FB feed.
K made first contact on FB Messenger after I'd posted my blog about M's dementia and my admitting her into fulltime care. We swapped phone numbers and it was a strange first call, hearing this grownup voice which had once had a youthful higher pitch, to hear how she's grown up, now has a family of her own and two young men for sons.
We got through a few catch-up topics but then got onto how she is struggling with getting her parents to accept that they either need fulltime care, should move into an assisted living facility with 24hr care, or should move back to K's home and allow her to assist with their care. Unfortunately, dementia parents decline into resistance to change, believing they, regardless of age, are still capable of doing everything they used to do 20yrs ago, and refuse any and all assistance. Sometimes that refusal can get quite verbally heated, another symptom of the disease.
Inasmuch as I could, I listened to her experiences which were much the same as mine, offered some suggestions, swapped more information, talked a lot, formulated a plan of sorts that K might be able to use to get her folks to agree to the care they really do need.
Unfortunately, getting agreement from a dementia sufferer and getting them to stick to it, is about as easy as herding cats. They sometimes listen through what you're trying to get them to understand, tell you they understand, but then 5mins later the dementia has robbed them of the train of thought and everything falls into a heap. Rinse and repeat.
Sadly, I can't be there to help her with her challenges, but K has a great support structure behind her, a loving husband, two sensible lads, a carer for her parents who keeps her in constant touch through calls or messages, and a friend of her parents who might be able to influence them to accept the changes they need to make.
What I can do though, is be there for her if she needs an ear that is "removed" enough from her immediate circle, that can listen and talk her through the shitstorm she is going through currently, and be there for her when it escalates further, which it will, I'm sure. Her parents, and in particular her father, are very headstrong and adamant that they are coping and do not need assistance. Dementia sufferers just do not know that they need help, far less admit that they have a problem they cannot control.
The parents are good folks, are a very close family, but like other dementia sufferers, lose contact with reality more and more as it worsens. So sad, again, to see and hear how this horrible disease robs good people of living out their days in healthy comfort and peace.
K is going to have to make some life-changing decisions on the parents behalf, quite soon, and may have to go the legal route to get Power of Attorney over their affairs. That's one shitstorm that I avoided, and I don't envy her having to go that way if it turns out to be the only possible way forward after trying all other avenues of making the changes they need.
K...you have my full support and as much as I can be of help, you have my number, so don't hesitate to call if you need me. Any time. And if there's one thing I learned quite quickly, it is that you need to use the people around you for support. You cannot do this on your own. Be strong... ♥️
Look after yourselves out there, folks.....be kind to each other...
Sunday, April 20, 2025
Untitled, as yet...
Tuesday, April 15, 2025
An open letter to my Dad...
Wednesday, April 09, 2025
Music to my Ears (Part 3)...
The English Beat (aka The Beat) (Mirror in the Bathroom) - Brilliant Ska tune.
Tuesday, April 08, 2025
Music to my ears (part 2)...
Monday, April 07, 2025
Ren...
Music to my ears...
Most of you who know me, and those that have read this blog, will know that music plays a large part in my life.
It doesn't matter where you are, what you're doing, what you're experiencing, who you're with, who you want to be with, who you used to be with, even who YOU are, there will be a song that will perfectly describe you or any of the emotions you are going, or have been, through. The song probably won't come to you at that precise moment, but even after some time a song will play that you'll think, "That song reminds me of xxxxx".
Music may not always bring good memories either. Too many of us have gone through heartbreaking times, but still a song will come on and remind us of a particular person, place or event. Music in all its forms, is emotional. Music can be happy or sad, or bring on an emotional response in memory of a good or bad experience, person, place, etc. And the emotions that surface hearing that song are sometimes healthy, remind us of things, people or experiences we had forgotten recently.
Music may bring us out of a funk that we'd settled inadvertently into. Only when a particular "happy place" song comes on, we realise we'd taken a bit of a slump that we need to drag ourselves out of.
My personal collection ranges from the old classics, Beethoven, Bach, Rachmaninov and those lads, through all genres (yes, even (c)rap though I seldom listen to that) to the hardest of metal rock you can think of, like Disturbed, System of a Down, Rob Zombie, just to name a few. There is a song for every possible emotion I could have, or have had.
Some music sticks with you through the years, music that you were either influenced by a parent, or you heard in your teenage years with friends, music by bands that you saw play live on stage. Some music gets reintroduced at a later point in life that you ignored or poo-poo'ed when you were younger that you come back to in later years and admit to yourself that it is actually pretty damn good music and you should have listened to more of it at the time instead or rubbishing it straight away. Maturity will do that for you as well.
Other music will catch your ear as you grow up, through various ways and influences: radio, TV, social media (probably the biggest influence these days). I've picked up on some music through the intros to TV series, movie soundtracks, even adverts.
Thursday, April 03, 2025
I think we all want this...
Who wouldn't, because then you would know you've done your bit and nothing more could have been expected of you...
Look after yourselves out there, folks...
Wednesday, April 02, 2025
Today was a good day...
Big Brother is definitely watching...
In many cases, they can be a bit depressing, but some are welcome and help my thought processes. It's just a bit disconcerting that Big Brother is trying to influence me without being asked...