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Say Hello To My Little Friend…..

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Just a little warning before you continue to read this blog post.

This post isn’t full of the usual witty banter that is usually found on this site.

If you

  • are about to eat
  • are currently eating
  • have just eaten
  • have a weak stomach
  • don’t like icky things

 

Then read no further……

 

 

 

So, if you are still reading at this point, then its your own fault if anything you read or see makes you feel queasy.

You were warned!

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, whilst I was having the first of my two daily showers, mid way through lathering up my armpits to get rid of the night time mugginess, I noticed that my left armpit didn’t feel quite right……there was a small bump on it (around the size of a quarter of a pea).  I thought nothing of it so i rinsed, got dried off and dressed and headed off to work as usual.

A couple of days later, once again in the shower, I notice that the lump is a little bigger now, double in size actually.

This time i take a little more notice and I quickly rinse, jump out of the shower and then have a good look at it in the wall mirror. It Doesn’t look that significant? It’s not dis-coloured and doesn’t look angry so i get back in the shower and dismiss it.  On reflection i should probably made more of an effort to keep an eye on it.  But it was early in the morning and i was still half asleep.

So the pattern repeats, a couple more days later on and I’m back in the shower (and by that, i don’t mean i only shower every couple of days!), I come to soap up my armpits, and as i’m doing so, i get a distinct stinging pain as I soap up my left armpit.  Once I’ve finished racking up a couple of quids worth of “swear jar” time, I’m back in front of the mirror to inspect WTF it was that just made me jump like that.

It’s definatley got bigger and now its starting to hurt…..Then a mild panic attack sets in…..Oh feck…..I’ve just found a lump!

So i jump onto my computer and hit google, looking for any information about armpit lumps……

It could be anything……lymphadenopathy, lymph node enlargement, infected sweat glands, a boil, grizzle, infected hair follicle, bacterial infection, viral infection, cancer…..the list was nearly endless.

So I set off to work, probably more confused and concerned than i was before i looked on the internet.

As its now noticabley painful, i spend most of the morning feeling it and prodding it every 5 minutes.

I get home and take another look at it, and i’m sure it has got bigger since the morning, so i take a photo so i can compare it at later dates…..

boad-mobile-0037

So by the middle of last week, its getting to the stage where I cant move my arm or let the lump make contact with anything, so I’m walking around like a gunslinger thats ready to draw…..

I procure some hospital grade painkillers (the less said about the source of those the better…..) and take the daily limit in one go. They kick in quite quickly and seem to be very effective…..so I relax and watch the footy on the TV and think nothing more of it for the evening.

Next morning, I get up, shower as usual, top up on the pills and head to work.  Don’t feel a thing at work all day, thanks to the painkillers.  I get home and have another inspection.

boad-mobile-0039

Not much difference, its a little rounder and a little taller…..(It’s about the size of half a ping pong ball now.)

Next morning, same routine….shower, handfull of pills etc…..apart from by now I have read just about every page on the internet related to lumps in the armpit and every 5 minutes or so i am changing my mind,  I’m either convincing myself that it is definatley cancerous, or I’m sure that it’s just an infection.

But at least its nearly the weekend, and I half make a promise to myself to go to the doctors or hospital on Saturday to get it looked at…..Afterall…..I have probably put it off far too long by now…..

Needless to say, I found various reasons not to go to the doctors at weekend………basically I just bottled it and choose to convince myself that if I just continued to take the painkiller, it would eventually go away on its own.

That seemed to be working well….until this Tuesday night that is.  The painkillers had stopped working as well as they had been so I decided that some action was needed.  Not being the biggest fan of doctors and hospitals, I decided that I, myself, was the best man to sort it out, one way or another.

So, I take another dose of my new daily pill friends and wait a short while for their effect to kick in.

Whilst i was waiting i prepared a few items…..

A kitchen roll to mop up any blood

A sterilised scalpel blade (And when i say sterilised, what i actually mean is I poured dettol over the blade and rinsed it under the hot tap.)

So I test the water and give the lump i quick prod to see if i can feel anything……nothing, so i nip my arm and i can barely feel that either, so I’m good to go…….The doctor is in the house!

I figured that whatever is in that lump is surely better off out of me than festereing inside me.

I grit my teeth and make a decisive incision right along the top of the lump and i nearly gag when i see what happened….

boad-mobile-0041

It was like watching “Alien”….I spend a minute just staring at it before i realise that it is actually my own armpit I’m looking at!  I don’t actually remember taking the above picture, but obviously i did.

So I wipe away what looks like a dolop of custard with some kitchen roll, I’m not sure what the feck it was? It could have been skin/fat cells or puss or lord knows what!, but to my horror, the lump is still nearly as big as it was before i started, that gunk must have been the stuff just under the surface. I give the lump a squeeze to see if there is anything else ready to come out……nothing.

Blood is starting to trickle down my chest by now, and I am completely regretting not letting the proffessionals deal with this.  But in for a penny, in for a pound.  I’m far too off my tits on painkillers to drive to the hospital, and it would be way to embarrassing to call an ambulance whilst in this state.

So i have another little dig around with the blade, and then give it another squeeze.   This time a clearish liquid shoots out of the lump.

Seriously, this thing could be a rival for the Las Vegas style fountains!  The stream of liquid was about as wide as a pencil lead and was constant for what looked like a couple of meters worth.

Once I’m over the shock of watching my own body emit such a thing, I  clean myself up and have another look at it.

My armpit now looks like a castrated dogs nut sack.   Whatever had been in there had obviously stretched the skin.

In the morning i inspected my work…..Looks like the superglue held the skin together alright……maybe i should become a surgeon!!!!

boad-mobile-0042

I still don’t know what it is or was, or if its gone for good or will make an encore?

But…..the Word “Relief” doesn’ even come close to covering how i feel now that its gone…..

~ Note to self……next time, goto the doctors!

Baby, Sometimes “Feck Off” Just Ain’t Enough

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So Saturday night roles around and as it’s “Pete the Meat’s” birthday we all decide to go and have a couple of pints with him to wish him happy birthday etc

We head out around 8:30 and fix the meeting point at the Friary as there’s a few of us out.
Literally 5 minutes into the night and we have our first casualty……

A few of the lads had been paintballing earlier in the day, and the Waa was sporting a superb bruise on his forehead from a mis/well aimed shot.
He feels sick (maybe concussion?) so he orders a pint of orange and water.
Two sips in and he says he is going outside for a breath of fresh air.  Minutes later I get the inevitable text “Sorry mate, feel ill, nearly gipped……I’m off home”

So I fire him a text back saying hope he’s ok and that he feels better soon etc and then we’re off to do a few bars…..and as ever, we end up in BOAD HQ (mood bar Lancaster).

We settle in with a couple of drinks and I nip outside for a quick smoke.
Shortly after, LJ pokes his head around the door and asks “Has Rachel just gone past?”
Before he’s finished the sentence I am asking “Why, is the fecking bad twin in there!?!?”

—————————————————————–
A little explanation may be needed here…..
My Ex girlfriend, Rachel (of over 3 years ago now!!) was a twin.
Her sister is literally clinically and sometimes violently insane…..Rubber walls, happy pills, voices in her head……the works!
It should give you some idea about my Ex when we call *her* “The Bad Twin”.
On my last encounter with her, I literally had my shirt ripped off me in the middle of a nightclub whilst being verbally bombarded.

Oh and not to mention the fact that she ended up in court after assaulting my poor mother…..
—————————————————————–

Anyway, LJ soon cleared up the potential situation up by explaining that he was talking about out friend Rachel the bar maid, and so we have a joke along the lines of “Thank feck it wasn’t the bad twin you were on about” etc…..

It was At this point I actually remember mentally stopping and thinking…..”I should know better than to tempt fate like that!” (She’s like Beetlejuice…..say her name 3 times and she appears!)

So we do a couple more bars and we end up outside Bentleys.
We’re waiting for the troops to gather ready to move onto the next bar.
All of a sudden I have a shiver down my spine, give a quick shudder and feel the goose bumps rise all over my body (my spidey sense kicking in!) and I look up to see “The Bad Twin” stood a few feet in front of me giving me a stare that would have frozen Medusa herself to the spot.

So she starts giving me a bit of verbal, graciously informing me (and the rest of Lancaster) of her opinions as to just how much of a tw*t I am etc.
In one ear and out the other…..The days of trying to listen to her are long gone.

So after she slows down to draw a breath, we hastily make like a tree and get out of there and hit a few more bars.
We end up in the Lounge and we’re stood against the wall near where the door to the stairs is.
I have my back to the front door but as I’m sipping away on my drink I notice a familiar shape in the mirror, just walking in the door.

I focus and see that it is indeed “The Bad Twin” making an entrance. A quick word to LJ and he’s stood in between me and the direction she is coming from giving me some much needed cover.

I literally close my eyes and hold my breath as she floats past us……If I can’t see her, then she can’t see me right?

Seconds after that I chin my drink and inform the lads “Reet I’m getting the feck outta here”….
As the lounge isn’t the biggest of places and it would only be a matter of time until we’d come face to face.

Anyway…..one good thing came out of the whole situation…..

With leaving early, I Was in plenty of time to go get a KFC!  Every cloud and all that…..

~I’d been thinking about tucking into a KFC since the night before when a certain individual must have bought all the chicken in the shop as there was none left when i turned up!! ;-)

Anyway, without being modest……I know I am good, and that she must still be stinging from losing me ;-) ……but 3 years is surely enough time to move on isn’t it?
Saying that, I have been googling the phrase “How do I apply for a Restraining order” for the last hour……

“You Got To Know When To Hold ‘Em, Know When To Fold ‘Em,

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With the bank holiday looming it was time for Mrs. Munka and myself to head out on a mini road trip to visit the ‘old country’ for Daggatt’s birthday. Now in preparation for the Friday drive the lads had a full on session on Thursday night so you can imagine how please I was when on Friday morning Linz said she’d drive! Anyway as you’d expect several hours later I found myself driving down the motorway FNA and a full weekend’s drinking ahead of me.

Dag lives in a village in Glossop called Hadfield but you’ll know it better as “Royston Vasey” yeah this is where the TV show was filmed and as Mrs. Dag (The lovely Jade) puts it most of the locals have webbed feet!. The league of gentlemen effect started early when Dag turns on the QVC Hardware channel and there’s this guy painting fence panels with a sprayer which retails for £29.95 it’s 8pm on a Friday and he’s watching the shopping channel ???? fortunately it’s not a case of him being in Royston to long (welcome to Royston Vasey you’ll never leave) but the guy is actually his next door neighbour !!!! anywho move on an hour and we’re in the local pub for local people it’s split into two halves the vault and the lounge, we sit in the vault as the lounge is full of Garyoke singers! So this girl ask if we want to buy raffle tickets £1 a strip winner takes the pot! We pool our tickets and a few minutes later dag is off to the lounge to collect our winnings £57 pund !!! however, and this set the tone for the weekend it wasn’t quit that simple. he had to do a play your cards right higher lower games needless to say despite a great effort we lost on a dodgy six do’h. Safe in the knowledge though that we would clean up on the nags at haydock park the next day we finished our beers and headed home.

So with several beers already in the tank and with the sun shining I found my self sat in the grand stand at Haydock Park race course. I thought to myself who do I know who has the inside track on the sport of kings? Ah tall Paul, so I text the Waa to get his number and in true boad style I get a reply just before the final race of the day doh. Anywho I manage to pick a string of losers all by myself, still the beers going down well and Mrs. Munka has bought me a burger so life’s good. By mid afternoon the sun is blazing the girls have all dressed up, little black dresses and hooker heels so I’m really living the good life all that’s missing is the high roller bets, roll on race number six.

The only thing special about race six is that it has a small field (six runners) the favourite is odds on with the rest of the pack more or less the same. So I put my usual £5 to win bet on a nag (can’t even remember its name now) and Mrs. Munka asks me to place a £2 pund each way bet on this horse called Andrew Nick. With the bets placed I head back to the group and more importantly my beer.
“Can I see my ticket?” asked Mrs. M so I pass it over and she goes white “Tell me you didn’t bet that much?” it turns out the guys input the bet wrong and put £202 each way instead of £2. As this is a small field each way only pays out on 1st or 2nd if this mule gets home first though? I’d get £1010 second place nets me £404 come on live the dream.

 

ticket

Just before the off I picture text Biff the betting slip. Pete the lad I’m watching the race with points out it’s now second favourite someone must have put a big bet on! :) . And there off three miles roughly two and a half times round the course with jumps the tension is massive! Almost right away there is a faller but it’s ok it not Andrew nick so that’s five horses left they make it round once and amazingly it’s actually winning then the commentator on the loud speaker yells “on the back straight we have a faller” Do’h hang on though it’s not my horse and even better one of the remaining nags has been slowed up by the faller that mean with ¾ of the race gone there are only really three horse left in it and I only need to finish one or two to be in the bucks! Come on !!!! as they rounded the bend onto the home straight I headed to the rail to get a better view the favourite comes striding past then three lengths back and well clear of the third placed animal is Andrew Nick it’s now just got to finish and I’m £404 pund to the good! Race done and dusted all I need to do is collect my ill gotten gains and convince Mrs. Munka that really these are my winnings!!!!

Now as the song says you’ve got to know when to walk ….. I wait for a few other punter to crowd around the bookie waiting to collect so as not to draw attention to myself…. It’s all about being calm and collected it’s at this point Pete points out I’m cueing at the wrong bookies do’h smooth real smooth

So I finally get to the front and hand over my betting slip and the guy says

“Son, I’ve made a life out of readin’ people’s faces,
And knowin’ what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
And if you don’t mind my sayin’, I can see you’re out of aces.”

Well he actually said your not claiming you put on that bet?
Next thing this official looking guy turns up saying he’s the course director and it’s a criminal offence to claim you’ve put on a bet that you haven’t

Now at this point I think back to the movie casino and the guy with this head in the vice but hey this is £400 right? So trying to keep it together I say hey that’s what it says on the slip.

Now what happened next I guess is like when 0 green comes up on roulette or you have a full house only to be beaten by a straight flush, The course director pulls out a second slip with cancelled printed across it and makes it clear if I want to claim I laid that bet we could discuss it in the office. Now my name is not Earl but I do believe in karma. I have to admit I really wanted to give my name as being Kevin Lewis but I didn’t want to have to start a list so had to let it go. On the plus side that race was by far the most exciting horse race I’ve ever watched Mrs. Munka was happy with her £10 and I still have all my fingers!

“Ev’ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin’ Is knowin’ what to throw away and knowing what to keep. ‘Cause ev’ry hand’s a winner and ev’ry hand’s a loser, “

Oh Jim text me back a little later on
“That nag came 2nd! Was that your ticket and how much you win from it?”

“You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em,Know when to walk away and know when to run. You never count your money when you’re sittin’ at the table. There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done”.