I'm not the man I USED to be.

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Jasper Brush

I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Jasper Brush » Fri Apr 15, 2011 9:18 pm

Another yarn. If this is too long let me know and I'll make them shorter.

I’m not the man I used to be.

When I was 10 years old I had my tonsils and adenoids removed. A stretch of years later, at age 26, I developed a bronchial condition so severe that it was necessary to remove the lower lobe of my left lung. During my operation a biopsy carried out by the surgeon on an upper lobe came back positive to TB. Not good. After about eleven months of convalescence I returned to work. I was going along, not too bad, a long stretch. until the year 2000. That was the year of the ‘Angina’ and the stent and the news that one of my heart arteries was completely blocked and would stay that way.
But the year 2005, when I was really old— kinda turtle headed— well, my tired old body hit the ‘’May Day’ button. I was feeling a bit butchers and after a blood test and a spinal tap my specialist informed me that I had Myleogenous Leukemia. Ah well, as Ned said, ‘such is life.’ I CAN'T remember too well what happened. I mean, I was doing everything the specialist told me to do (whatever that was) but after about nine months my ML went into remission. I do remember I made, and was still making home brew. A terrible amount of home brew; I had a theory brewery beer was full of chemicals whereas home brew had none. Home brew, had only natural ingredients: barley malt, sugar, yeast and water. Do you think brewing companies are going to let a 40,000 lires of vat beer to ‘go-off’ if a strain of bad bacteria gets into the brew; think of the economics. No, they’re going to pour in gallons and gallons of chemicals into the beer to kill the germs. Then you go and buy beer in the pub or bottle shop and go and dink it, and when you do, the alcohol and chemicals get into your blood stream and get-up-to mischief. My theory was correct, I’m a bloody genius; I drank home brew, morning, noon and night and gave the ‘big L’ the boot. Not bad for a bloke who left school at 15 years of age.
Yeah, even if I say so myself.
However, there were repercussions. Not long after, in 2006, I’d go to the dunny and ‘couldn’t go.’ My guts also had an uncomfortable painy feeling, so I went to the doctor.
The doctor said. ‘Strip to the waist and give a cough.’
Talking about stripping, Anita, from across the road once told me I had the best physique she’d ever seen for man of my age. Ha-ha, how’s that for a turtle headed person; a one and three-quarter lunger. No, I won’t go into that, another story.
I gave a cough and my tummy from my breastbone down shot upwards like a mountain range.
He said. ‘You have a hernia. Have you been lifting anything heavy?’
I said, I had, I’d been lifting brewing containers up onto a bench.
He said, ‘how much do you brew.’
I said. ‘Four by thirty five: a hundred and forty litres.’ (I have pictures of the set up)
His jaw dropped. ‘How long does that last?’
‘Spose a little over three weeks.’ I said.
He said. ‘For God’s sake, no wonder you’re ill.’
Then I told him; apart the hernia, I was fit. And I woke each morning without a hangover.
I arrived at the specialists with my x-ray in hand He looked at the x-ray and rubbed his hands with glee and gave a smile. ‘Not only do you have hernia you also have a diseased gall bladder. I’ll do the two for the price of one.’
Of course I agreed to the arrangements.
After the operations I was lying in bed and feeling pretty good. My doctor came into room and said. ‘You, lucky, lucky man…No wonder you couldn’t go to the dunny. When I was probing around in your gut I discovered a strangulated bowel. All fixed. How do you feel?’
I said. ‘I feel a hundred per cent.’
I went home the next morning a bit lighter in weight and potty trained.
2007, was another good brew year; nothing like flushing the system out with the natural goodness of healthy ingredients.
2008, was a different kettle of antibodies. My doctor told me my PSI blood test on my prostate was not good. On a scale of 1 to 10 it was a7.
I was sent to see the specialist. The result of the tests was very bad. The surgeon told my wife and I, my prostate was 60 per cent cancerous. The surgeon said. ‘A radical?’ My wife squeezed my hand.
I said. ‘Sure, I have no use for the old gear box now.’
So we went home.
I had the operation in August 2008. After the operation the surgeon arrived at my bedside and said the operation was a success. However, to prevent any penetration of wayward cancer cells he had whipped out my lower lymph glands as well. I was glad and felt good. I left hospital the next glad to be healthy again, but a bit concerned at the loss of vital components.
2009, wasn’t going to bad until February, In February I got drenched in a rainstorm, but didn’t change my shirt. Bad move. The next day I woke up with pains over my body— I could hardly raise my arms
The doctor sent me to a specialist. After tests the doctor said, ‘you have Polymyalgia. I can fix this up.’
I said. ‘How.’
He said. ‘Prednisone. Here take 25mg three times a day.’
Whoooeee, what a hit. All the symptoms vanished. The only problem was I was hyperactive, my speech in words per minute increased from 210 to 2100 and I was all action.
At my next visit to the doctor, he said there was a down side: he told me that Prednisone reinforced the immune system by producing insulin. The problem was if I continued to use the 25mg doses my kidneys would shut down the production of natural insulin. So I had to reduce my intake of Prednisone gradually—15, then 10, then 5, then 2.5 then 1. Ok it took some time but I was eventually weaned off the drug, though I still do suffer aches and pains
2010, in 2010 in may my arms ached if I did anything manual and my fingers went numb and blue.
Of to the specialist, who after tests told me that my subclavien arteries in my right and left armpit had given up the ghost; he said. ‘This is a rare occurrence, you haven’t been exposed to large amounts of radiation have you?’
The answer was, No.
Then to keep the blood pumping down my arms; he gave me several hundred exercises to perform daily. An examination six months later confirmed that small capillary veins had grown around and bypassed the main arteries and re-joined the circulatory system. For a long time I had no pulse beat in either wrist. Even now the pulse is very faint.
I went to the doctor yesterday My doctor told me that my PSI reading was zero.
However, 2011 is the year that I have to do something about my cataracts. Booo.
And my left knee is stiffening and making strange clicking noises.
Though, I’ve got a couple of thousand empty plastic home brew bottles in my back shed. My last project before (I go) is to build a plastic boat out of the bottles and sail her to Tahiti.
Even so, I dunno whether this will come to pass.
Yep! I’ve got to face it. I’m not the man I used to be.

John Macleod


Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by warooa » Sat Apr 16, 2011 4:54 am

Good yarn John . . . lot's of good scrabble words in there! But mate - before you make that raft out of plastic home brew bottles and sail off to Tahiti, you gotta tell us more about Anita?

Cheers, Marty

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Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Zondrae » Sat Apr 16, 2011 6:17 am

G'day John,

Manfred is in the process of putting up a special section for yarns. While we appreciate your story telling, this is the general chat section. I think Manfred was wanting expressions of interest for the 'Yarn' telling section. He will, no doubt, see this and comment himself and perhaps even move it. Please don't consider this as a negative comment. I simply wished to let you know what is afoot.
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a woman of words

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Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by r.magnay » Sat Apr 16, 2011 7:53 am

Crikey John! it is a wonder you had time to make homebrew, much less drink it, all the travelling to the doctor alone should have kept you busy, without all the knife work, you better hope you don't come back as a dog, they would put you down pretty quick with all your ails....or is that ales :roll: ....I don't care if it is in the wrong section it was agood read....makes me feel pretty good actually! :D ....orr yeah, what did happen to Anita?

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Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Sat Apr 16, 2011 9:46 am


Ooooh Anita , sheeza sweeter with dark eyes and corn silk hair.
When she loves me her eyes sparkle and a happy man is there.
When she hates me. treats me coldly, I feel the nip in the air.
Ooooh Anita, sheeza sweeter, but she is my cross to bear.

Sheeza naughty, sheeza flirty, she gives all da boys da eye
and she laughs and calls out to them as da boys go walkin' by.
Sheeza cheeky to her Momma and her Poppa can't say no.
Sheeza bad girl my Anita - must be why I love her so.

Sheeza body soft and curvy and she fits into my arms
and I hold her very tightly quite besotted by her charms.
I'm a young and simple farm boy I know nothing of her wiles,
all a my friends say she's a tart – I'm a captivated by her smiles.

Ooooh Anita wants to marry – and a big wedding is planned.
Hadn't quite walked on that path yet but I've been taken in hand.
We must hurry, mustn't tarry for she told me just today
that in five months the bambino will be coming here to stay.

Ooooh Anita sheeza a big girl and she soon will be my bride
and I think that I am happy that she'll stay right by my side.
She can work out on the farm, we'll make a babies every year.
Ooooh Anita, cruel Anita, says that she's not staying here

Ooooh Anita, sheeza cheater. Bambino can't be mine she said.
Sheeza mistaken, wedding canceled, it's Giuseppes' bun instead
in the oven, slowly baking – seems Giuseppe's the main man
poor Luigi is a just a farm boy – it's a simple man I am.

Maureen Clifford © 06-10
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -

I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.


Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Heather » Sat Apr 16, 2011 11:55 am

Are you sure you're not a cat, John? :?

Heather :)

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Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Neville Briggs » Sat Apr 16, 2011 12:08 pm

I'm not the man I used to be...I used to be Colin Firth.. :roll: :lol:
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.


Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Heather » Sat Apr 16, 2011 12:13 pm

The yarn spinning page is up and running. If you go to the Home Page and click on Poetry, there are links below to Yarn Spinning. Not sure how you add a yarn though. Might have to contact Manfred for that John.

Heather :)

Jasper Brush

Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Jasper Brush » Sat Apr 16, 2011 1:47 pm

G'day Zondrae and Manfred.

A forum,tellings yarns, seems a good idea.

Some old timers I used know in the central west were great storytellers. Banjo wrote short stories and so did Henry. Henry wrote many a tale about his hero, Joe Wilson.

My next post in this forum will be a chat subject.

Thank you.



Jasper Brush

Re: I'm not the man I USED to be.

Post by Jasper Brush » Sat Apr 16, 2011 2:31 pm

G'day Marty, Ross, Maureen, Heather and Neville.

I Have not left anyone out have I? If I have I apologize.

Hmm... I should not have mentioned Anita because that's her real name. So I better change it Stella. Zonrae make sure the public do not enter this forum.,

Yep. Anita is one pretty lady. She is an acupuncturist, masseuse and Chinese herbalist: 'eye of knewt, and snakeskin powder remedies etc.)

Anyway, sometimes when Anita was wearing, short, shorts and walking up and down my spine kicking my vertebrae into shape. She would give a sigh and say such things as. 'For your age, your skin is soo smooth and your muscle tone is that of a man twenty years younger.' Then sometimes as she rubbed and oily,oily oil into my neck and shoulders she'd say things like. 'You are a very strong man.' This was all before my big operation a couple of years ago since then my bodies shot down the chart to my current age bracket. :D

Well the truth of it is; after each session I used to go home to the wife and repeat every single word that Stella uttered. Trying too much more physical attention from the wife. The wifes reaction was hysterical laughter, uncontrolable laughter. The missus laughed so much she used to cry.

That is the story of Stella.

Yes Heather, Ive had more lives than a cat.
Maureen. You have a vivid imaginatio. I doo like your poem. :D
Neville, Colin Firth. Wow, you must write a yarn about it. :D

I've opened my gob too much, I'm going.




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