Does what it says on the tin! Notes to self. A diary, if you will, recounting and recalling my life thus far, with and without MND.
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Rant: MND/ALS Spring Conference, Chester
I've just been to the MND/ALS Spring Conference - North West (UK)
Before I get going, please note that much of this is a RANT. I may and will feel differently this afternoon, when I’m clean and in company. Right now, I feel shitty: I am shitty; I shat myself an hour ago and it’s past the warm, cushion stage: there’s a blue-bottle, buzzing roung the light-bulb, with its bulbous eye on my arse. If I want to, I will RANT.
It was the end of a mediocre conference and I was drowsy. The final keynote speaker got up and I prepared to dose. More talk of research that won’t affect me. Don’t get me wrong; I admire these learned scientists; I applaud their dedication and wish them well. If they wanted to study my arm and it would help future generations, I would chop mine off for them: it’s bugger-all use to me but there’s your keynote, ‘future generations,’ – no research going on now or here on in, will help me. I’m just not altruistic enough to get excited about other people’s future. I don’t have any interest in watching the lottery programmes, either: I don’t buy tickets; I don’t want to win. I don’t envy their wealth; I just don’t share their joy. Analyse that, hey!
I’ve been living a fairly cerebral existence of late: my three-year dry spell will probably extend for the duration, so my emotional reactions may be fairly out of whack. The final keynote speaker got up and ‘bob on a boat,’ she was gorgeous; truly stunning. She had a deep, rich, Italian voice, with a bit of a cold coming on and I was entranced. Grinning; a sexy look for me, with dribble running down my chin, lol, I soaked in her every word. She could have been talking fruit-flies, for all I cared. Point of order: she was talking fruit-flies; Drosophila and it was fascinating. My momentary aberration done, I listened, captivated. For the first time in a while, I was using my brain, pushing myself to follow the lecture, stimulated. For sure, those white-eyed mutant flies won’t cure me and I’m still alone, in my own effluent but thank you Dr Giuseppa (Giusy) Pennetta for reawakening my love and respect for learning and living: flies around shit don’t seem entirely negative, now.