Mr Flibble (along with Lloyd, Frankie and Phoebe) is immune from Susan-based infections..

Fresh from moaning about my foot, it’s my arm that’s my latest tale of woe – 2013 is turning out to be the year where I get a rude welcome to middle-age.  My latest ailment has turned out to be PVL-positive Staphylococcus Aureus, sounds grand, doesn’t it?  Stick it in Google and you get some terrifying potential consequences although touch-wood mine was arrested at the skin-infection stage.

I’m now forbade from work not because I’m still infected but I might still be a carrier of the bacteria which is being encouraged to departing through some special shower gel and stuff to shove up my nose for the next five days.  The original infection which started with a boil (that I mistook for an insect bite initially) and ended with me having an arm like Popeye has been rendered dead through antibiotics, leaving now just a fleshy crater on my forearm.

There’s been plenty of amusing banter surrounding ‘Susan’ as I named the boil (see what I did there?) – but I suppose it’s a useful reminder that when things occur that are making you uncomfortable it’s wise to get checked out by medical professionals.  If I’d followed well-meaning advice from friends on social networking then it could’ve ended up a lot more serious – notwithstanding the residual risk of spreading the infection.

Poor Cat of course gets dragged into it through her proximity to me – and thankfully the birds have their own version of Staph infections that aren’t transferrable to humans, just as ours aren’t to them – so aside from a bit of residual tiredness I’m okay, funnily enough when you point out to your work that you’re away through fear of infection there’s little argument! (In fairness, my colleagues are very caring and understanding about sickness in general).

The likely cause of all this?  A carrier or the bacteria in the mosh pit at the Ferocious Dog gig in the Rescue Rooms.  This is not an issue of cleanliness or dirtiness, somebody could be carrying such things completely unawares – those that succumbed as well as me I think are being treated similarly so hopefully nothing serious will have happened as a result aside from some discomfort and inconvenience.

Cat and I are now awaiting confirmation for details of the charming process of decolonisation that we need to go through before being fit for public consumption again.  It should all be precautionary, but it does rather make you feel like a plague-bearer.  If folk could refrain from painting a cross on the door though, it’d be appreciated!

Any such actions will prompt me to upload pictures of Susan to accompany this post!

A prognosis of sorts – having seen a neurologist who diagnosed me with common peroneal palsy – damage to the nerve that controls dorsiflexing my right foot, she referred me for nerve conduction studies to try to pinpoint where this was occurring – as that nerve runs for the 4th/5th vertebrae and right down your leg.

Knee always seemed likely – it’s a spot where the nerve loops around the fibula, and an acknowledged weak spot should it take a blow or be subject to poor posture (I do have poor posture, and prone to bashes on the knee thanks to the frequency of football playing I engage in.

That’s pretty much what the consultant who has been reviewing my test results has concluded – so six weeks after it started, with no real improvement in symptoms, I now know there’s damage to the nerve covering (rather than the nerve itself – good news) around my right knee, and that it should get better through nothing other than patience, which so far I’ve found I have in short supply.

All in all though it’s good news – frustrating that nobody seems able to put a timescale on it improving, I left it with my doctor that I’d call him in six weeks if there was no signs of improvement.  It had better not be six more weeks before I see any kind of recovery, otherwise I’ll go a bit bonkers!  I might have to start to think about alternatives to playing football which I’ve not been able to do for weeks though.

Tom made me laugh at work the other day when we were talking about this, I forget the exact turn of phrase he used but it was something like “Tell you what Al, you never go in for normal things going wrong with you, do you?” – I think he was mindful of my occasional bouts of Labyrinthitis which is, of course, a spectacularly ironic ailment for someone as obsessed with the Jim Henson movie of similar name as me!

Ho hum.

“Did youse say something, Mark Arthur? I cannae hear ya!”

I must admit, I was dead opposed to Billy Davies the first time round, and ended up on the terraces merrily cheering him and singing his name.  The recent goings on at Forest have left me not exactly bereft of caring, but somewhat detached, so it’s a sense of ambivalence from me that greets his re-arrival at the City Ground, but definitely one of interest.

He is a considerable improvement on the disastrous Alex McLeish, and will undoubtedly provoke an impassioned response from the crowd, a significant proportion of whom never quite managed to get over his removal in the first place (it’s undeniable that those that followed him were unmitigated disasters – so I guess it’s easy to point to a shit manager, and then complain that his predecessor was better irrespective of the non-existent relationship between board and manager).

But there’s a clean slate now – having sacked Sean O’Driscoll in a move for me personally that was more unfathomable than anything that went before, axe-man Fawaz took his metaphorical chopper (or a pen and paper – the pen is mightier than the sword, after all) to the board room and removed Mark Arthur and Keith Burt, both of whom would have been members of the dreaded Transfer Acquisition Panel.  If you were to believe what you read, the arch-nemesis of Billy Davies fulfilling his potential at the club.

By the time McLeish had walked I decided that I’d quite like Billy Davies to come back.  Not because I’m part of the fanbase who have elevated him to messiah-like status, but because he probably is the best short-term (and, to be fair to him, potentially long term) fix for us, but because the pantomime at Forest could explode in hitherto unseen ways should the combustible manager and the combustible chairman not work well together.

This season is pretty much a write-off regardless, it would take a monumentally appalling run to see us end up at risk of relegation, whilst the gap to the hallowed promotion places looks similarly insurmountable by anything other than an exceptional run of good results, the only option for signings is loans so nothing long term can occur in the transfer market – so I’m very much of a mind to sit back and watch what happens with mounting interest.

It’s a worry to me that the powers-that-be at Forest seem to take so readily to the likes of Twitter or possibly forums to gather their insight into what supporters may want – notwithstanding the demographic bias to either channel of communication, both mediums are rife with contradiction, fickleness, reactionary types and let’s not forget wind-up merchants – it’s a heady brew of confusion, that can only be made more open to misinterpretation if viewed in a second language.

Sensible the Wee Yin is dodging the bullet of taking on Sean O’Driscoll’s new charges this weekend, leaving Rob Kelly to look after the team on a caretaker basis until presumably he gets the bullet next week when Billy and his backroom team recommence their ‘unfinished business’ at the City Ground, hopefully the profligate bullets flying about manage to avoid John Pemberton and the good work he’s doing at the Academy.

How seriously or not he takes feedback from the Twitter hordes aside though, it’s clear to me as a fan these days that what Fawaz says goes – and either you get on board his train-set and follow the track he’s laid out for us, or you get off at the next stop and leave him to it.  Given that I’m pre-paid up for the remainder of the season the only sensible course of action is the strap in and attempt as best as I can to enjoy the ride.

Certainly Mr Al Hasawi has been on a steep learning curve – the position he has manoeuvred himself into has probably left him with limited options at this juncture.  If nothing else he’s enabled some rousing of the rabble which should see the atmosphere at the City Ground for the visit of Bolton, when Billy re-takes the helm for the first time, enhanced – and a chance for him to reflect and evaluate in the summer (which is probably what I’ll be doing too).

That’s of course if he and Billy can manage to get along until the summer… but for now it’s beyond doubt that Billy Davies is a Red, and that he hates Derby.

Thanks to pre-marriage rituals for a friend and the generosity of Santa I’ll be taking in Krakow twice in 2013!

Whilst an excellent Yule was had by us all, it’s definitely been the season of congestion and coughs in our household.  Both Cat and I have basically been ill between Christmas and now.  Ordinarily it might sound smug to point out I’m not back at work ’til next week – but it doesn’t feel too smug as I’ve lost a week of time away from the office to basically sitting around feeling ill or sleeping.

In more positive news word from the garage on New Years Eve gave an ETA of today (well, it’s just today – but 2nd Jan) for the return of my car, so that’s potentially very positive news, it’s apparently very nearly repaired – including a scratch down the other side so it should come back to me in better shape than when I last had it.  Not that I’ve been using the courtesy car much due to aforementioned bastard cold.

The police turned up a couple of days ago enquiring after our next door neighbour.  In true modern-world style we barely know our neighbours (although are on speaking terms with ’em all), I’ve only spoken to next door dude a couple of times though, once over a wheelie-bin mix up and once when he’d kindly taken a parcel in for us – there’s still no sign of him as far as I can tell, he rarely has any visitors – I hope he’s okay.

Of course Forest have been busy since I last posted – and if on Christmas Eve I was feeling increasingly detached from football, the last few days hasn’t helped one bit.  Despite my pensive feelings around football in general, I was actually sold on what I believed the direction Forest were taking in sustainably building a club from the bottom up – it turns out I was a gullible fool and our owners are just another set of impetuous and impatient hatchet men.  Meh.

Finally I decided that I’d copy Rich’s idea of capturing each day (or at least an aspect of each day) of 2013 with a photograph.  I don’t think I’ll spam the blog with these pictures, but use Facebook as the medium for them, and maybe some kind of monthly summary on here… not sure.. I’ll probably forget / lose interest within a few weeks, if that – but it’s a nice idea, one I saw my mate Jonny do before.

For the record, here is today’s picture – my last week or so has been summed up by assorted cough and cold medication, which I suppose at least bodes well for my employer if nothing else, judging by assorted germ-related Facebook statuses I’ve been seeing!

And so it’s a big welcome to 2013.  Much of 2012 has been brilliant, but when I reflect on some areas of life I’m certainly glad to see the back of it and am hoping that the opportunity to psychologically refocus and consolidate will bear positive fruit.  Despite that slight caveat there’s much to look forward to already in the calendar, so optimism is most definitely the way forward for now.  Once this bastard cold fucks off, anyway!

Dah-na dah-na dah-na dah-na dah-na… BAT BIKE!

… actually, I don’t.  Yet.

A few months ago at work I put my name down for a locker – at Boots there’s a waiting list that folk wisdom suggested lasted a year or more.  The catalyst for this was being in a bit of a mood (!) about the impending Workplace Parking Levy about to be passed on to us in order to pay for Nottingham City Council’s ill-conceived desire to cover our city with electronic modes of transport.

The idea reminded me of when I went to Digger World with Rich and Em – because, ironically, the solution to this could be, wait for it, an electric mode of transport.  As bizarrely an offshoot of Digger World was a company who produced electric bikes.  Basically a normal bike that is assisted by a battery-powered motor.  Which might sound a bit lazy, well, I suppose it is.

So yeah, I thought a year of waiting to be granted a locker would give me some procrastination time – and then maybe I could get myself a Bat-Bike and take advantage of an easy ride in to work, a quick change, a day’s work and then work a bit harder on getting home – which would fit nicely into project fatty too, giving me more exercise.

It would enable me to unsubscribe from the Workplace Parking Levy if I cycled in 80% of the time or more, and of course could feasibly save me an awful lot of money on petrol too.  Food for thought, for sure – more pressing than I’d thought it would be.  Not that I can afford to splash out on a bike right now!

As for other stuff in the world of me.. we’ve had a restructure at work which has been somewhat frustrating, Ferocious Dog have been busy in the studio for their forthcoming EP which I can’t wait to hear – and at the weekend as well as Forest we’ve got the excitement of going to see Carl Froch in his latest bid to retain his world title.

After that there’s the Levellers in Rock City and then Ferocious Dog in Beeston, then Derby.  All in all, lots of music-based excitement with a good smattering of sport.

Before all that of course we have Children in Need and in the midst of it all Movember.  I’m really looking forward to Friday where our team have a day of fundraising planned with a human fruit machine (again) and help from the lovely folks at Alea Casino who’re bringing a roulette wheel in for us to use as a game, then on to the evening where I’ll be taking calls from the lovely folks of the UK until the early hours (and missing seeing the Levellers in Lincoln in so doing, I might add!)

Busy old time.  I’m glad I’ve done all my Christmas shopping! </smugface>

As a final aside – as a throwback to previous posts relating to randomly remembering old school hymns, for reasons best known to my subconscious mind I seem to have had ‘when a knight won his spurs’ stuck in my head – of course, back in the day we would sing it as ‘when Forest beat Spurs’ – which almost certainly are in the stories of old these days!