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Er – pardon?

December 17, 2016 in Life in BC | Permalink

One of the issues concerning which I consulted my new doctor (details here) during my introductory interview with him at the start of November was the mild but persistent tinnitus with which I am now cursed – though in my left ear alone!

This ‘irritation’ takes the form of a constant high pitched whine or whistle at a level such that, though it is apparent when in quiet surroundings, I really don’t notice it at all for much of the time. Its presence did – however – focus my mind on the fact that I have never actually had my hearing checked.

This little message from the gods was reinforced by our recent spate of attendances at musical soirees of one sort or another. As far as I am concerned my hearing is in itself unimpaired, but I am increasingly aware that my ears get tired more quickly these days after an evening of listening to music – or should I spend too long in the studio.

My doctor – being, as he is, admirably proficient at his job – did as he should and suggested that I visit an audiologist for a hearing check. This – following some initial research on the InterWebNet – I duly did.

The good news is that my hearing is perfectly good, with the exception of a slight dip in performance for my left ear at high frequencies. Given that this corresponds pretty closely to the range in which I have tinnitus it is most likely that other signals are being slightly masked thereby.

In conversation with staff at the audiologists I raised the question of investing in some ear protectors, for those occasions on which which I attend concerts or other events at which the sound levels can be uncomfortable. For the musician it is essential that ear protection should attenuate the audio signal without compromising the frequency response thereof. In other words – such protection should make the music quieter without altering its tone or timbre.

These devices are certainly available but are, as you might expect, a sight more expensive than simpler equivalents and must be made to fit the individual ear. I decided that my hearing is too important to me not to be treated to the best and I was duly tested, measured and an order placed.

I took delivery of my new ear-pieces just the other day (see the above illustration) and jolly splendid they are. The silicon based moulding sits snugly in the ear and the attenuation capsules can be changed for those of other values should the need arise.

Now to see if they do the job…

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Medical matters

December 4, 2016 in Life in BC | Permalink

Image from WikipediaIt is really most remiss of me to have jotted nary a peep thus far regarding an issue here in British Columbia of which I was not aware before we arrived in the summer of 2015 (though I feel sure that I had been told!) but which would definitely be of interest to anyone moving here from another part of the world.  BC as a whole – and Victoria in particular – currently suffers from an extreme shortage of General Practitioners.

Now – to this point in my life I must admit to having had things pretty easy in this regard. Not only is the UK thankfully well pretty provided for when it comes to GPs, but I was also been fortunate enough over the last three decades or so to have simply signed up with one of the doctors at whichever educational establishment I happened to be employed.

It was thus a rude shock to discover, on arrival in the province last year, that finding a GP in Victoria would be a major operation and that it would undoubtedly take some considerable time to effect. In the end it took me fifteen months and I was lucky in that one of the practices in Sidney, which was recently refurbished, also took on a couple of new doctors. This sort of opening comes but rarely.

Once the practice had let it be known that it was taking on new patients and that applications should be submitted before before an advertised deadline there followed an almost unseemly rush to get on to the list. Applicants were not to be selected on a first-come-first-served basis, the new GPs rather assembling a clientele with an appropriate variety of needs. Fortunately mine are relatively straightforward (comprising as they do in the main a repeat prescription for the medication for the hypertension that I inherited from both parents) making me a pretty good risk and thus the ideal patient.

The only minor fly in the ointment was that the Kickass Canada Girl had suggested that I take out some life insurance here in Canada. It should come as no surprise that insurance companies are as risk-averse here as they are anywhere else in the world. I had no objection to being subjected to further medical examinations, but it did seem that they wanted to cavil at everything. I had to pay several visits to a drop-in clinic, to the Saanichton Hospital laboratory and to an ultrasound lab whilst those in white coats quibbled with the insurers over the sort of test readings at which one’s GP normally just shrugs his (or her) shoulders.

As I have currently been asked to get one reading repeated every three months or so the insurers have gleefully taken the opportunity to kick my application into the long grass.

The Girl is not best pleased!

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Dental records

November 21, 2014 in Life as we know it | Permalink

Image by Geni on WikipediaA recent and somewhat vexatious – though in truth fairly mild – infection at the root of one of my molars has caused me to enter into my much dreaded decennial engagement with the amalgam of dentists. This suitably apposite collective noun, incidentally, (see what I did there?) comes courtesy of a rather wonderful website called ‘All Sorts‘, whose splendid ‘mission statement’ reads thus:

“All Sorts is a collection of collective nouns that may or may not have found their way into the Oxford English Dictionary. If you think that a charismatic collective is far superior to a dullard ‘bunch’ or ‘flock’ then this is the place for you.”

I digress!

Now – I know that those of you who are of North American origin will have a totally different outlook to us Brits when it comes to oral maintenance. I know this because the Kickass Canada Girl is at pains to point out the fact. Frequently! To understand the loathing that my generation has of all things carnassial one must revisit a little post-war English dental history. To quote from the online ‘Dentist Forum’ – in response to an item in the tabloid press concerning the perceived neglect of dental hygiene in the UK:

“What he fails to mention is the over treatment by dentists to anyone who is now aged around 50 or 60 will have suffered in their younger years. Many of this age group had the drill, drill and more drilling treatment. It wasn’t unusual as a child to visit the dentist for a check up in the 1960s and be told “that’s 10 fillings you need”. If many of this age group had only visited a dentist occasionally in their childhood, perhaps only when in pain, they would have had less unnecessary treatment and their teeth might be in better shape now.”

I was one such child. My memories of those two decades are of almost constant toothache – subsequent to each visit to the dentist. By the time the pain had subsided it was time for another checkup. What with the endless fillings (not in truth helped by the lack of fluoridation in drinking water in England at that point, nor by the sweet tooth that I inherited from my mother!) and the impacted wisdom teeth, I had a pretty rough time of it.

To cap it all I had a gap between my two front teeth. It was not a massive gap and nor was it unsightly. In truth was rather fond of it. The dentist – however – persuaded my parents that it should be fixed and I was reluctantly forced to wear a hideous and uncomfortable brace. I hated the thing so much that I avoided wearing it whenever I could get away with it. Eventually the dentist started to smell a rat – suspicious of the lack of progress. Finally my brother resolved the issue inadvertently on the cricket green by breaking one of my front teeth with a particularly vicious short-pitched delivery. The resulting cap removed the gap once and for all.

 

Dentistry has changed – of course – out of all recognition. Such barbarism as we knew in the 60s is a thing of the distant past. My practice now even calls me up the day following treatment to check that there has been no resultant discomfort. The surgery has more technology than NASA and can engineer a perfect set of teeth with laser like precision whilst rotating 3D animations of my molars on a large flat screen for my education and edification.

I was fitted – the other day – with a temporary crown; the which involves quite a lengthy procedure. There was at no stage – either during the treatment or at any point thereafter – any pain at all (unless one counts the cost of the procedure – which is eye-watering in much the same way as is a boot to the testicles!).

There remains but one complaint. The drill! It is not that it causes any discomfort these days – but the sound of the thing is exactly as I remember it from my youth. As a result my visits to the dentist these days cause me to suffer grim psychological flashbacks to my childhood some five decades ago.

Now – if they could only fix that…

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Breathe deep

October 4, 2014 in Life as we know it | Permalink

BreathAnd when I breathed, my breath was lightning.

Black Elk

Amazing! Here I am in my seventh decade and I am still discovering absolute fundamentals about the business of living that I would have expected to have learned long, long ago.

The Kickass Canada Girl and I have colds. Fairly minor colds it must be said – and they didn’t disturb our trip to Bath (of which more anon!) so we mustn’t complain. The first cold of the season is – however – always somehow more annoying than any other – particularly if the sun is still shining – which it has been…

My cold came out last week and I had a couple of uncomfortable days at work as a result. At lunchtime on one of those days I was browsing stuffily on the InterWebNet trying to discover if there was any truth in the dictum that one should feed a cold – in other words, wondering if I should force myself to have some lunch. The advice I uncovered – that one should eat if one were hungry – was not exactly earth-shattering, nor particularly helpful.

I did – however – discover from one of the articles consulted something else entirely – which stunning piece of advice was simply to breath deeply!

Now – I expect that all of you already know this, but if that’s the case then how come no-one has mentioned it to me before?

The premise is this: when you have a cold and your nose is blocked and your throat is sore, then you are also most likely to have a thick head and to feel all-round miserable as a result. The feeling miserable actually inhibits recovery, since the resultant dejected slump does nothing to haste its progress.

The thick head is caused by a lack of oxygen to the brain, which is in turn the result of the shallow and ragged breathing by means of which one tends to try to mitigate the discomfort in nostrils and throat. The answer – stunningly – is to make an effort to breathe more deeply and, in particular, to do so outside in the fresh air. After a short course of such treatment – the argument goes – your head will clear, you will feel considerably better, and the rest of your body will more rapidly follow suit.

Well – I tried it – and you know what? It worked – at least, it did for me!

Now – how many colds have I had over the last sixty years for which this simple trick might have helped?

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Kia Ora

November 2, 2012 in Life as we know it | 2 comments

Serious kudos – and indeed many grateful thanks – to Air New Zealand for getting me safely to Hong Kong the other night – a task that proved somewhat more demanding than anyone might have expected.

I rather liked the service in their premium economy – at the expense of which I had swallowed hard before selecting, but can frankly no longer face the prospect of flying for 12 hours in a standard economy seat. Air Canada do this better than most because with them it is possible to book the exit row seats (with their considerably increased legroom) in advance. Most other airlines either don’t do this at all, or simply add one’s name to a lottery for the seats which are then allocated nearer flight time. Sorry – I need to know for sure when I book…

I was certainly impressed by the enormous measure of New Zealand Pinot Noir that the stewardess splashed into what can only be described as a tumbler – to accompany dinner. I was further stunned when she offered to top it up a minute or so later when I had scarcely got beyond sampling the bouquet. Unusually for me – I declined.

However, it was some short while after dinner that the Air New Zealand cabin staff really earned my undying gratitude. Feeling suddenly rather clammy and nauseous I thought I had better head for the washroom to be on the safe side. The washroom was occupied and as I waited outside I suddenly found myself on my hands and knees – with no idea how I had got there. The next thing I knew I was lying on my back in the galley, surrounded by cabin crew and having oxygen administered. I had blacked out in a fairly serious way!

When they got me back on my feet – having first asked for, and located, a doctor on board to take a look at me – they moved me up into business class where they had made up a bed for me. As a result I subsequently enjoyed seven hours good sleep and a first class breakfast! Though still rather fuzzy headed when we landed the next morning I mostly felt embarrassment and something of a fraud. I have not had such an attack before, but I gather that they are not that uncommon. I found another doctor in Hong Kong to give me the once over and it she could find nothing out of the ordinary. She suggest that I had probably experienced a vasovagal syncope!

Clearly this was one of those isolated incidents – probably brought on by tiredness (I had been up early and done a day’s work before rushing to the airport in the evening) and dehydration. The Air New Zealand staff were brilliant throughout and made me feel very much better about the whole episode. My thanks again to them.

Well – this is one way to get an upgrade, but I can’t say I recommend it…

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