The serious reason I never listen to voicemail messages is her. People think, oh how quaint, that's just Tanya. Or they think, how demanding - she thinks her time is so precious that missed calls and lost messages are of no consequence.

The real reason is that I was worn down by the repeated torrents of abuse I used to wake up to. She'd call back and continue where she left off when the timer cut out, so there would be several chapters of the same drunken ranting to get through.

Endless f*cking self indulgence. When Absolutely Fabulous came out we considered it a toned down documentary.

She told me that when she was so dissatisfied with a particularly strict childminder that she threw a record player through a glass window, punched herself in the face, and smeared the blood all over the walls leading to her bedroom.

The childminder was in such a hysterical state by the time her parents got home, that my mothers claim it had all been the doing of this unfortunate woman was believable. She got to choose the next one so it didn't happen again.

At my fifth birthday party certain children were banned from the group photo for being unattractive. One in particular was removed because she considered his head shape to be unflattering.

That's just her all over. She'll be in a pub now, telling random people what a c**t I am.

Yeah, she did.

Oh, that was you she was going on about was it?

Obviously neither of you have come across her or she'd have you too enraptured with her informal charm to bother with coming online. You'd be too busy having all angles of any ego soothed by a baby voiced 65 year old who looks 40 and acts 14. She's very popular with everyone not related to her, and all male relatives.

Well, I shouldn't be too unforgiving. She has some lovely qualities, and hasn't really had a particularly nice life all things considered. I'll ring her at closing time.

My son arrived home looking for a meal this evening. He was supposed to be having dinner with my mother, but she met him after school with THREE bottles of black label Smirnoff in a carrier bag.

Two of them had been had on various park benches and doorsteps throughout the afternoon, the third she was in the process of finishing so she could take them all to a bottle bank at the same time.

Obviously she wasn't in a fit state to be in a restaurant so two establishments plus a takeaway asked them to leave. You would not believe how much she drinks, and to the absolute state she gets into.

A couple of years ago a lifeboat had to be sent out because she decided to get a late night train to the seaside and have a swim. She's lucky that some tramp had actually watched her and reacted.

She won't hear a word said against annihilation drinking, she says it makes her feel 'relaxed'. I'll be getting a call from the school tomorrow. Small mercy that she didn't turn up with some of the people she often drinks with.

I can't even begin to effectively and satisfactorily summarise 'what's happening in my life' at the moment.

Misery upon misery.

My Grandpa's still alive BTW.

Against every and all odds.

He's survived virulent sepsis (2 weeks ago) where he very very nearly died and then, after surviving and rallying after that, he then suffered a major "melena" incident.

Look up melena if you like.

Black st**ls etc etc...

It meant he had to be moved back to NPH from his relatively comfy room at CMH to be given intensive care and blood transfusions.

Again we were told by the doctors (specifically this time the acute gastroenterologist team at NPH) that we needed to start to prepare for the end, but yet again he's fought through and with some basic - albeit high dosage - Omeprazole and countless blood transfusions he's seemingly fought through.

Finally they've taken the cast off of his left arm (after 56 days) and, as of this evening, his vital signs are steady and stable.

Due to be moved back to CMH soon, where doubtless they'll be astonished to see him again.

He's 99 in a couple of months time and he got hit by a 20 tonne truck.

He told the heart specialist today (asking if he'd ever suffered dizzy spells or blackouts in his life) that after he was hit by the HGV and he was laying flat on his back all he thought was "crikey, isn't the sky blue".

God I love him.

I knew it, I knew it. I've just called her, and it is indeed all my fault. Through sad sighs and aggressive snapping she was able to confirm that somehow, it's definitely all my fault.

Re:above - I'll take her somewhere for a couple of nights. She's very depressed.

Re: previous - control over technology has been reasserted. I was confused as to received text references to him being the resident 'softboy' of his group so I googled it, and apparently it means a nicer version of a 'f*ckboy'.

I googled 'what the f*ck is a f*ckboy' and that offered no real comfort.

I have to go to hospital this morning to have parts of me routinely scanned

It may be 'routine' for them but it isn't for me.

I have been scanned. It was a bit undignified but I coped.

It's so complicated going for tests and scans and probes, it's all 'please go into this cubicle and take X off and then put Y back on, then wait till we call you'

I've got a doctor's appointment at 9.10 tomorrow. It's all go round here.