illness

Most people recognize the most obvious signs of illness in pet birds such as vomiting/regurgitating, loss of appetite, or the typical “fluffed up” appearance and sitting at the bottom of the cage birds show when they are very ill. But some signs of illness can be difficult to recognize such as subtle behavior changes, change of habits, vocalization changes, or variations in color or consistency of droppings. This is why it is so important to know what is normal for your bird: what time does he/she normally go to sleep? What is its favorite perch? How often does it speak/vocalize? How many droppings are normal for it to make in a day? What foot does he/she normally eat with? Never assume that a subtle change in your bird is normal as it could absolutely be a sign that something is wrong. Here is a brief list of some obvious and not so obvious signs of illness in birds:

• Decrease or increase in appetite✅
• Increase in urination
• Increased drinking
• Feather or skin changes✅
• Discharge from the eyes or nostrils
• Vomiting/regurgitating
• Sneezing or wheezing
• Limping
• Fluffed feathers✅
• Tail bobbing while breathing
• Sudden behavior changes including biting or screaming
• Decrease in activity level✅
• Voice change
• Change in flight ability✅
• Spending more time on the bottom of the cage✅
• Weakness or inability to perch✅
• Overgrown or discolored beak
• Change in droppings: color or consistency
• Straining to poop
• Wing or wings drooping
• Diarrhea
• Weight loss or weight gain
• Blood on the bird or in the cage/on perches

Any of these changes, or any other changes recognized in pet birds, should be brought to the attention of an avian veterinarian to determine whether or not it is a sign of something more serious.

Wendy ( bless her ) suggested cremation and having his ashes made into something…. I only have the electric oven and a barbecue, so I’ll go with taking him back to where I got him from and let them do what they do, rather than have him dug up from my garden by one of next door’s several cats, or the local fox.

I think I’ll go to a different pet place to find another lil fella, in case the whole flock in the last place is infected with something that Dicky had….

I chose little Dicky Bird because he was the smallest of the lot in the shop, and I thought he needed looking after a bit. From the start he didn’t seem that coordinated in his flight, or have much energy ( compared to Miss Fanny )

Last night when we got home he was huddled in a corner of his little home, which I thought wasn’t a positive sign, so we put a little woolly hat in there for him to possibly sit in. However he just found a gap behind it and hid himself in there.

This morning Wendy got up to go to work and came back from the lounge in floods of tears. Yes, the little fella was in the same place but no longer with us.

I asked Wendy to take him out and wrap him in a little bag, so Fanny wouldn’t see him, and to reduce the chances of her being infected with something I suppose. They had never actually been in contact with one another so hopefully she’s fine.

Wendy texted me just now to ask me to check on Dicky in his plastic bag to see if perhaps he’d been in a coma, rather than deceased…. she asked me to leave a gap in the bag, when I pointed out that if he had been in a coma then he’d be dead now from a lack of oxygen?

My carer and I shall disinfect Dicky’s home and I’ll leave it a bit before seeking another chum for Fanny.

( no Monty Python Dead Parrot jokes please….)

Just been to watch Top Gun at an open air cinema. It’s like bloody November, not mid June out there…

Anyway, I remember seeing Top Gun the first time around and not really liking it that much.

Seeing it again, decades later, I see it’s essentially a film about ‘ who is marginally the least arrogant tosser, out of a whole line up of major tossers ‘.

Tom Cruise is painful, but as above is just about the least painful.

There are lots of bits of the young pilot types with their shirts off in it. What is it about 40+ women these days that they are so openly drooling over young blokes? It’s changed so much from a while back when it might have been men that expressed a bit of admiration for young totty, but in the presence of their female partners they’d not have shown it. Now though, women quite clearly with their husbands, who are also around other women, just seem to have no hesitation in expressing ‘their excitement ‘ at seeing a young, fit fella. I think if husbands did that they’d definitely be in the shit with their wives! Just a social observation of mine…

So Top Gun – bit of a classic, but a load of tosh really.

Thank you to my lovely cousin, Jason, who I have hardly seen since I’ve reached adult size ( and actually now I’m back to 4 feet I don’t know if it counts now ) and who spent HOURS configuring my complex audio visual bits and pieces. This stuff is all crazy technical now, and beyond most people including me.

Anyway… now it’s all working – sound inside and out, and through the amplifier comes all sorts of other stuff, so that’s good!

Update on the budgie status. – Fanny is perhaps a scary prospect for Dick …. who is well, rigid …. with ummm … rigidity ….I suppose. When Dick is eventually placed close to Fanny I hope he doesn’t get stage fright and disappoint her… relax lad, I say, and it’ll be better than you think!

Despite having me as an experienced stroker, I got the impression that Fanny needed more… you know how it is, I’m sure…

So I got her a roommate. Fanny, meet Dick. Dick is smaller than Fanny, and younger too, so hopefully will keep her happy. She’s a fair bit larger than him; I reckon Dick would fit right inside Fanny ( God forbid.. )

Fingers crossed they’ll be a happy union.

❤️

Hi Russ,
Just wanted to say I was thinking if you as you tick off another year of life post crash. I just read your blog post and was pleased to hear a more positive post compared to previous years. Sounds like you have finally found a way to be that works for you. Not perfect of course, but doable for you. 

Stay strong and live long Russ, it’s the human spirit that counts and you’ve got loads of that. 

K

Antibiotics and painkillers then last night and today so far. It’s definitely better than yesterday so I’m safe to assume I do have an infected tooth.

I’ll put off a trip to the dental hospital for now though – I have other things in my mind that are preoccupying me more.

I have a few of my cycling buddies from that day coming over this evening, and some closer than close friends too, so it’ll be good, and Wendy is here too.

Distraction is again the strategy. I really don’t want to spend thinking about how and what went wrong that day, and as a consequence all the things that happened since, as I have learned to live with those consequences 24/7, 365 days a year. It’s amazing I survived that injury ( I’m told ) but people do, don’t they? Most don’t however, all that’s left is a memory of them on birthdays etc by those few that that even knew their birthdays, or the date they died. I’ve never been ‘ good ‘ with dates ( in that respect ) but I know lots of the living have tough times on the anniversary of a deceased parent or relative. Today should have been a death anniversary of mine, remembered only by a few I’m sure. Without my blog to prompt someone I doubt this day would be significant to anyone at all, other than myself, though of course it did change the course of several lives significantly. I don’t expect to hear from any/many of those though, as people think of themselves rather than me in terms of ‘ effects on lives ‘ which is understandable of course.

For me it shall remain the Worst Day of My Life, though of course I don’t remember any of it except for a few little bits before I crashed, some 8 hours before I went over the handlebars, and fucked myself up for good.

Last year I completely fell apart in a totally unanticipated outpouring of grief ( I suppose ) for a life lost, which is definitely an accurate description.

I have cobbled together a different life, which comes under the ‘ having made the best of it in the circumstances ‘ bracket.

I’m not dead yet, and no doubt I’ve lots more to experience. One thing is s for sure, I’m not just going to wait to die sat indoors in a wheelchair, watching archived episodes of Jeremy Kyle. I have stability now, and from that platform can spring some adventure I think…. not that I haven’t been adventurous these last 6 years, as I think this diary has recorded, to be fair. I don’t go back and read it, so I only have memories of having written stuff down, rather than ‘ entertaining myself ‘ by reading it. I think also it’s a fear of reminding myself of darker times than now, too, which isn’t constructive in any way.

So it’s my 6 year birthday today. The day I was redelivered, back from having stepped through Death’s Door. I don’t have and dark tunnel and bright light recollections though. Perhaps that’s because the light of being reborn paralysed isn’t a shiny new LED bulb, it’s far dimmer, more of a candlelight.

You get used to living by candlelight if that’s all you have though, right?

I’ve got raging toothache. There’s nothing worse than raging toothache… people say.

Well there is… paralysis is a lot worse than toothache.

But raging toothache plus paralysis, plus my crash anniversary tomorrow is shite to be honest.

I may have to go to the dental hospital tomorrow, if it doesn’t respond to the antibiotics, to have the tooth taken out, dentist suggested.

Great!

And after 5 years and 4 months of having the same wheelchair, I have finally got a new one! Blimey, that old one saw a lot of punishment. Lots of crashes, about 15,000 miles of Triride’ing and general wheeling about, with untold numbers of potholes having been trashed through. The frame was bent and weakened, the wheels seem to have given up, bolts have fallen out and sheared through, the back rest and seat have been replaced numerous times etc etc.

I can’t say I’m happy to be in a wheelchair, but I’m happy that the wheelchair I’m in is a now a friction free, and rigid machine. It’s called a Protegeo and it’s Italian, like my Triride.

My little Bambino, I might call it. I’m glad it doesn’t know just how hard its life is going to be – it’d probably be outta here straight away!