Getting you up to speed...

Thanks for the support guys in welcoming me back to blogland!



I've become too addicted to Facebook, and need a better outlet for things I can't say on there, and start the town gossiping up again (and stop playing bejewelled constantly!).



What has changed in my life since I've been away?



Not much.



Still single, still run my business, still work at the pub. I've had to take up more shifts at the pub as my ex has been made redundant and until he gets another job, I have to scrape up some more money to pay for all the holidays I have planned this year....Glasgow, Florida, Amsterdam, Oz, NZ and New York.



The bonus to this, is I'm in the centre of gossip world!



I'll start off with Al, the owner of the pub, the Duck. Ooooo, I'm remember the old names, how exciting!



I've been working at the Duck for two and a half years now, I do enjoy the social side of it (not so much the cleaning, I'm still mucky pup who hates cleaning!). For those of you who remember, Al is named that because he's an alcoholic. In the summer last year, he's been getting worse, his eyes had turned yellow and he just looked terrible. We started having bets he wouldn't last till the end of the year.



Surprise surprise, he went into hospital in November. I was going to Oz for Christmas, so went to visit him in hospital, thinking it may be the last I saw him. When I walked into his ward with co-worker Mac (and neighbour) I was shocked at the state of him. If you put a telly in his belly and an antenna on his head, he looked like Laa Laa from the Telitubbies! Absolutely bright yellow all over. He was very subdued, but did recognized me and Mac and happy to see us. When we left, I tucked him into bed and kissed him on the cheek and said goodnight, as if he was a child. When we left, Mac nearly broke down. He's known Al for years, and has visited him in hospital before when he was drying out, but had never seen him this bad.



So off I went to Oz for three weeks, and when I returned, I found out Al was out of hospital and back in the pub. I saw him New years eve and gave him a massive hug and said 'I'm so happy to see you, I never thought I would again.' I couldn't help myself, I was really surprised to see him. He looked at me bewildered and said 'Why?' I didn't reply just babbled on about my trip.



The next time I saw him, he was just wondering around the pub, not capable of actually doing anything, still not very coherent, not recognising some people, with all the drugs he was on. But his partner Sally made sure he got dressed and come down stairs in the morning. Al would just sit by the fire for the morning. Sally would then make him have his lunch, then he would go back upstairs. He didn't enjoy doing this because punters would try to talk to him and he was in such depression from the steroids, he didn't particularly want to speak to anybody.



This happened for a couple of weeks, then one day he couldn't get out of bed. Sally called the ambulance and he returned to hospital. Sally was still acting as if he was going to be fine. After a couple of weeks, he returned again. There's nothing anymore the hospital can really do, his liver is irreparable. So he just lays in bed all day, with nurses visiting regularly.



Sally and Al have been together for over twenty years but never married. The pub is Al's and is worth about a million pounds. So when Al dies, Sally will inherit it but will have to pay taxes of 40% because of what it is worth.



So a few weeks ago, Sally told me she was waiting on a call from the registrar. She was finally admitting Al was going to recover this time, and had a letter from the doctor saying Al is terminal. She spoke to the registrar the next morning, and was married that afternoon in Al's bedroom. She made their youngest son come home from the weekend to see his dad, because she didn't know how long he was going to last. Surprisingly, he pulled through and picked up a little.



Tuesday just gone, he went back to hospital again. When punters ask how Al is, I tell them the truth...you aren't going to see him downstairs again.



So now we have bets on that he won't last till Easter. Lets hope he proves us wrong, but it's not much of a life, just lying in bed all day in pain. I feel sad that he is like this, as I really do like the guy, but he brought it on himself. All at the age of 55.