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My first run in the longest time.

I’m really happy today. I’ll get to why later but for so long, this song has been spinning around in my head. It didn’t make sense particularly; it is about the love between a son and his father, particularly emphasising just how captivated the boy is by his father – overtly a beautiful charming sentiment. I’ve always loved this song, ever since I first heard it and every once in a while when I feel particularly positive about life, I feel its words tumbling from my lips. God knows, I’ve never had the best relationship with my father but I guess I must still love him on some level. You should watch it, just to have an idea of how I’m feeling at the moment.

So this morning having finished what seemed like an incessant weekend of nights, I apprehensively made my way to the gym. You’ll recall that feeling you have when you’re a girl and you’re about to embark on your first sexual encounter and everyone has told you about “the pain” and you’re so worried about “the pain”, that all you do is think about “the pain” and ultimately what results is what is essentially a prolonged (or not) friction tolerance test; not enjoying it whatsoever? Well me neither, but I imagine that’s how it must feel. I really didn’t want that pain again.

When I got to the gym, it was already pretty busy and I was lucky to get onto one treadmill; ensconced between a candidate for the world’s largest man doing his best to test the weight threshold on the machine and a petite brunette girl (bitch), donned head to toe in lycra who casually glared at me for reasons unknown. I made a mental note of this and later during my run, I was careful to shake my head towards her periodically, showering her in some of my man sweat. At one point I draped my sweaty palms across her stupid face causing her to lose balance and fly from the machine into a strategically placed dumbbell behind. No no, I kid, I didn’t actually shake my head towards her.

So I ran, and no pain! I cannot articulate how relieved that made me. My vocabulary is incapable of construing the equal quotients of relief and happiness I feel at present. Of course, there is a degree of apprehension but, no matter, I will take it easy and carry on with those ridiculous ITB exercises and hopefully, I can bore you with some more running stats! For those of you who don’t care, neither do I. Piss off.

So I ran 5k (3.16 miles) in 26 minutes 53 seconds. Average pace was some 8.34 miles/minute which is nowhere near where I have been or want to be but I care not. I’m back! Here are my splits:

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Not brilliant, as I say but it felt good to do all the same. My fitness has simply plummeted to the ground however. This is my heart rate throughout.

Screen shot 2013-04-22 at 20.44.02Look at that! Almost 180bpm with an average of about 178bpm throughout. To put it in perspective, previously I was running at a rate of 140bpm at my shorter faster runs. Absolutely incredible to see how much a few months can reduce overall aerobic capacity.

So anyway, I’m back. Back again. Shady’s back – well he can fuck off. I fucking hate Eminem.

 

 

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Jim Carrey and what he doesn’t know about Vaccinations

Jim Carrey’s a pretty funny guy. I grew up watching him cavort across my screen in all manner of ludicrous performances, like a drunkard mongoose and regardless of whether the film was good or not, I usually found some favour within it. I would still count Dumb & Dumber amongst my all time favourite films and I have lost count of the number of times I have watched the convulsing police officer drink Lloyd’s bodily excretions; you simply cannot put a price on physical comedy. Carrey subsequently did what most OH-MY-GOD-I’M-SO-RICH-LET’S-URINATE-ON-EACH-OTHER-FOR-FUN actors in his position do and shacked up with the first female he saw with a halfway decent face and ample mammary glands. Unfortunately for him however, this happened to be Jenny McCarthy, idiot extraordinaire (I’m not sure if that’s her official title). Why? Well, put simply Dr Jenny feels contrary to almost universal scientific opinion, and links vaccinations to autism. Her and Carrey’s views are by no means unusual – by any account, the world is inundated with morons. What makes their moronity particularly noteworthy, is their irrefutable office in the tabloid auditorium. People listen to them.

Edward Jenner, the father of immunology initiated an almighty shift in the management of communicable preventable diseases, when he inoculated a 6 year old boy suffering with smallpox, with pus from a cowpox pustule. The boy was cured and the first vaccination had taken place. In 1979, the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared Smallpox an obsolete diagnosis. It had been removed from the spectrum of human disease. Let me reiterate – Jenner had made a considerable dent in the removal of short people in our world. Of course there are those that still remain and they are recognisably irritable and obstreperous but the problems of knowing where you’re going to keep them, what you’re going to feed them and how often you’re meant to take them out for a walk are issues of the past. Because of Jenner, the world is a taller place.

Next on the agenda of disease eradication is Poliomyelitis, a mortally inflicting neurological disease which although holds no cure, is confidently preventable by means of the Polio vaccine. Via means of a concerted and applaudable effort from the WHO, the condition has been cut down with devastating precision to the tune of a 99% reduction in incidence and today only three unfortunate countries are claimed as endemic – Afghanistan, Pakistan and Nigeria. Considerable headway had been made to declare the disease obsolete by 2018 via the Global Polio Eradication Initiative, until some ominous reports of the murder of vaccination volunteers emerged from North Pakistan. Astonishingly, both the CIA and the Taliban were implicated but the program has pressed on regardless. Maybe that manner of response was to be expected, maybe not, I really don’t know. In either case it makes for disconsolate reading.

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Let’s be clear; no child born today should be die before their fifth birthday. The communicable preventable diseases that once rendered childhood a formidable and precarious journey are exactly that – preventable. Our resources should be extended from the affluent surpluses of the entitled, to the provision of improved public health for women and children, the world over. Our efforts should counter the dire inequalities our political constructs have established and give every human on this planet a chance to live.

Only not according to McCarthy. Not according to Carrey. Citing anecdotal evidence concerning the constituents of vaccinations and an association to autism, celebrities in the anti-life lobby feel qualified to unsettle a lifetime of immeasurable action taken on behalf of the medical community to rid the world of communicable diseases. Quite where or how this competence was attained has escaped me and if anyone has an idea I’d be extremely grateful for some input. Please email me at fuckjimcarrey@SMOKIN.com. I don’t know – maybe McCarthy felt a need to point a finger of blame, given her kid has autism. Perhaps Jim Carrey had nothing better to do. Perhaps they stumbled across the work of a very refined sort of pleb, Andrew Wakefield. Let’s talk about him.

Andrew Wakefield was an English Surgeon working at the Royal Free Hospital in London when he made the eye brow raising association between the Measles Mumps and Rubella (MMR) vaccination and autism. I say eye-brow raising because that’s all we do in England really – raise eyebrows. We lack the capacity for full blown animation, but trust me, beneath those eye-brows, we were climbing across the ceilings. In a paper published in The Lancet in 1998, Wakefield suggested that a link was to made between the rising incidence of autism and possibly inflammatory bowel disease and the use of the MMR vaccination was of blame. Via succeeding reports, he advocated a triple stage vaccination, with each component of MMR given at separate intervals. The medical community went ballistic. Parents who had already been sat on the fence, jumped well and truly off into a lifetime of poor decision making on behalf of their hapless children. I was too young to be aware of what was happening at this point, so I can’t tell you what my reaction was. It probably wasn’t too constructive, I assure you.

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Anyway, what Wakefield omitted to mention was the following. Several years prior to his ludicrous paper, he had been hired by a solicitor called Richard Barr who had intentions of bringing a class action law suit against the manufacturers of the MMR vaccine. The idea of this collaboration was to bring the vaccine into disrepute. Around the same sort of time, Wakefield craftily pitched in his own vaccine patent for Measles and made his merry way to the bank, laughing malevolently and rubbing his hands with glee. I might have made that last part up. In either case Andrew Case was a very naughty man. In the end, following some remarkable investigative journalism, Wakefield was exposed for the twat he was and his medical career was swiftly ended, at which point he fled to the US to be embraced with open arms by the anti-vaccination lobby. Americans eh? All of this I could probably ignore, I possess the necessary requirements of apathy, but this is where the situation really begins to stink. His original paper was based on un-ethically conducted investigations on 12 children. TWELVE CHILDREN. Is that a representative population? Where is the sample size calculation? What was the inclusion criteria? What was the p value? WHAT’S WITH THE SHITTY STATS BRAH? I can put up with a lot but I have no time for poor mathematics. No time whatsoever.

Every 2o seconds a child will die of a vaccine preventable disease. 17% of the global mortality of children under the age of 5 will be due to innocuous causes. There are 30 million children in the world today who are at risk of never having the chance to live due to failure to vaccinate. The issue is one of poverty and inequality, of inhumane politics. Not of celebrity science. If a parent fails to vaccinate their children, their stupidity is not simply reflected upon their own unfortunate child, but also that of the community their child resides in. Herd immunity will only get you so far. The Anti-Vaccination Body Count have set up an online graphic representation of the lack of insight by Carrey, McCarthy and co, in an simultaneously hilarious and tear-jerking affair. To summarise, since 2007 there have been 113918 preventable illnesses in America, the result of failing to vaccinate and a further 1126 deaths. As of 2007, there have been no directly causal diagnoses of autism made following vaccination. Not a single one.

With respect to Jim, I’ll look forward to his next film, if he ever tries to make another. I’ll laugh at the funny bits and leave the cinema, having thrown a palpable portion of my pay cheque at some faceless multinational, thereby placating the conditioned materialistic part of my mind for the best part of several hours. Consumerism – Woo! As for vaccinations, 1.5 million children will die this year because of preventable diseases and that, is no laughing matter.

in·ter·view /ˈintərˌvyo͞o/ Noun A meeting of people face to face, esp. for consultation.

I saw my registrar with cocaine did I? What do I do? Well of course this is a delicate situation and requires the utmost of tact and so initially, I would do would want to seek more information and… WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?? IS THAT EVEN A FUCKING THING? DOES THIS EVER EVEN REALLY HAPPEN??

Interview are the worst aren’t they? Sat in some pretentious hotel in Leeds, which thinks it’s in London, but is actually in Leeds and where the hell is that anyway (doesn’t the world stop north of Birmingham?) is one of the most artificial situations we can put ourselves through in life and is only compounded when Mr Nose Hair (does he know what nose hair clippers are?) who is barely registering the words coming out of your mouth, asks you what you would do if you found your registrar with cocaine?

You mean besides asking him to share it with me? You mean besides thinking about what sort of moron brings class A substances into the Doctor’s Mess and sits them up alongside a homemade ham and cheese sandwich? You mean besides wondering what kind of idiot is caught by me, hardly Colombo, who is more likely to be caught startled under the sudden revelation that he has fingers, than notice his registrar is carrying more talcum powder than usual? What would I do?

I know, I know, that this is an exercise in principles and not product. I understand we are being assessed on our cognitive process as opposed to what ever contextual rubbish that happens to tumble out of our mouths. Of course I would act professionally and appropriately, but what importance does that carry in an interview situation? Do you think my ability to phrase answers coherently, in a systematic manner reflects my ability to think in the same way and simultaneously remove your tonsils? Of course not. This is simply a game, an act, and I am left wondering who has actually being fooled. Us, the interviewees for playing the mindless dirge or the interviewers for tapping their feet along so tunelessly.

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Good interviews do not always reflect good doctors. Good doctors do not always give good interviews. Perhaps I am being shortsighted and don’t know of any statistics to say otherwise, but I feel the selection process has been incontrovertibly tainted by awarding marks for whatever clown gives the best performance on the night. I cannot be the only one who feels that surgical aptitude should be based upon a subjective review over time and not over 6 stations in the city of Leeds, who do not even have a premiership football team and who’s greatest output has been an ENT registrar who spent most of his first year, on the phone, simultaneously walking and talking into a wall with genuine zeal. Seriously, I know that guy.