Sometimes when I am watching some story on the tellie about the antics of children - and by that I mean anyone younger than - oh let's say thirty, I feel like an absolute dinosaur, cos all too often I really haven't got the vaguest clue what the story is about and less clue about how to go about finding out about that which I am completely ignorant. I just make up what I reckon text speak might be and sometimes I have been known to make up my own little abbreviations in the hope that youngsters will think I am hip and cool and groovy, like I might send ATSBAD to let my girl know that I am shopping for a dress (at the shops buying a dress) but she thinks that I am being critical in a Bruv kinda way. SO sometimes it all goes awry - yeh that's an old fashioned word cos I am an old gal.
But even though I feel like I am galloping in a bid just to keep up, I know the reality is that I am lagging. Ho fucking hum.
I might not understand 'em but new inventions and capabilities are just so bloody exciting.
I know there must be some folk who dream about a simpler 19th century life, but I am lazy and do not hanker for chamber pots and boned corsets and candle carrying and hand stitching clothes and all that other tedious shit that goes along with too little machinery. Give me a machine that makes the tedious tasks quicker, easier and prefererably done by someone else, anyday.
And as for health care, well seriously who wants to go back to use of leeches and witchcraft?
In the late 1800s if Leukaemia was diagnosed at all, it was treated with ARSENIC, and we know that that shit'll kill ya. Damned if they did and damned if they didn't.
Since then there has been remarkable breakthroughs that just keep on coming. A new drug regime which sounds quite unpleasant was fine tuned in 1950s and in the 1980s ouchie bone marrow transplants were thought to be just the shot. But lucky for me, in 2010 a new drug that is supposed to be the 'silver bullet' for CML was approved for use. One little pill of Dasatinib a day, every day should see a return to normal shaped white blood cells in pretty short order and the number of these suckers clogging up my veins should drop down to allow everything to function normally again. Fucking Yippee!
It's new and the side-effects are encyclopedic in length and I did wonder whether it might be easier to chow down on the arsenic, but so far so good. Blood tests is a couple of weeks will determine the efficacy of the wee pill and with any luck at all by Zig and Belly's birthdays, I should be good to go.
Yippee for folk who push ahead with outside the box thinking. Maybe sometime soon someone will invent a one off treatment for toe jam and a miracle cure for wrinkles and a fat muncher that sloughs off kilos at a time, while you continue to hoover up choccies and champagne.
See even my techno wish list is not very advanced. Maybe I should be hoping for telekinetic travel - yeh I made that up, or wrinkle the nose, a la Bewitched, meal preparation, or bloodless operations, or flying cars.
I think pretty certainly Zig's adulthood will be vastly different from mine. How very exciting!
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