Bex powders were an Australian icon. A strong analgesic, comprising phenacetin, aspirin and caffeine, they were the housewife’s drug of choice in the ’50s and ’60s until they were shown to be hugely addictive and responsible for causing kidney disease when taken in large doses. I remember that my grandmother had packets of these stashed in her kitchen drawers and whenever she felt a headache or a cold or the outbreak of another family disagreement coming on would break out the familiar refrain…
“I think it’s time for a cup of tea, a Bex and a good lie down…”
…and that would be the last we’d see of her for hours.
And just for a moment this morning I was wishing I had access to some of those powders. The cup of tea I can do. Same with the good lie down. But I suspect that nothing I have in the medicine cupboard is going to shift this headache.
It started yesterday around lunchtime, a nagging ache just above my left ear. A nap yesterday afternoon helped a little but then something happened that made it worse.
I was distracted, cooking dinner, when D asked me to take a look at the computer. It wasn’t behaving for him and he bows to my superior skillz when it comes to recalcitrant hardware. So I looked but my mind was elsewhere and before I could utter the immortal phrase “Oh fuck…” I had clicked “Proceed” when I should have been clicking “Get the hell out of there. You really don’t want to do that.”
I held my breath and hoped that the damage wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it might be. I shouldn’t have held my breath. It really didn’t help. Half an hour later, I had a recovered, pristine as the day we bought it (ha!) PC and two years worth of data — including photos — that I hadn’t backed up (I really don’t want to hear it. I know. I broke the cardinal rule) was gone.
Excuse me for a moment. I need to cry again. Did you get that? Two years worth of photos that can’t be replaced. And it’s all my fault. I am an idiot.
I spent hours last night battling a dodgy dial-up connection that kept dropping out, in order to download my minimum requirements for an internet-ready PC — virus protection, a firewall and a good browser (oh how I love Firefox) — and sifting through dozens of disks to find what data I did have backed up. When I finally went to bed it was 2:00am. My head was hurting and my eyes were sore. I was frustrated at how long it had taken, angry at myself for causing it, resigned to the fact that I’d lost so much data, so many reminders. And the voice in my head, the one telling me that not only was I an idiot but that I was a monumental idiot, wouldn’t shut up.
I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep.
This morning, I work with a worse headache. I saw D off to work and set about the task of installing more software and tweaking Firefox. My PC is now looking closer to “normal” but there is still a big gap where some pictures should be. I do have some of my favourites saved to Flickr and Zooomr but nowhere near all of them.
I’m still angry at myself.
I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies. It was only data that was lost. A few million bytes worth but it was only data not a limb or one of my five senses. Most of it can be replaced or reinstated. And I now have an excuse to take more photos.
But I’ve learnt my lesson.
Forget the diamonds.
A recent backup is a girl’s best friend.
As is the presence of mind to actually read the dialogue box before committing to an action that can’t be interrupted or cancelled.
Now, does anyone have some packets of Bex powders lying around? I need them to go with my good lie down.
If I had some Bex powders I’d give them to you – extreme circumstances calling for extreme measures and all that. So, so sorry about your photos. It’s a salutary lesson to me. I’ve got nothing backed up, at all, apart from some muffins on Flickr.
Hope you feel better, and less traumatised, soon.
A long hot shower, fish and chips for lunch and an indulgent couple of hours in bed with a Sophie Kinsella book was as extreme as I got. But it worked. I’m feeling far more relaxed and I’ve almost forgiven myself.
All photos from now on will be backed up immediately. And Charlotte, if you have photos of your children on your hard drive — upload them to Flickr, even if you mark them as private. At least then, you won’t lose all of those precious moments if your computer dies.
Ouch Kerryn, I’m sorry for all your pictures… And you just reminded me of something I had been meaning to do: making a full backup of all my data in my computer – I never do it, and just recently realized how much of a disaster it could be, were I to lose everything: I am devastated it has happened to you!
Happy -and encouragement- thoughts going your way.
I’m so sorry Kerryn! Don’t think you’re an idiot…it’s just a testament to the power of distraction and headaches.
I think I’m going to visit Flickr right now, because not one of our photos (or any of my work for that matter) is backed up.
Heh, when you were describing Bex powders my first thought was: “Gimme some – NOW!”
I’m sorry to hear about the computer nightmare. It sounds awful… and I’ve been there. I now obsessively back up my writing, every single night. I’ve lost work several times from not backing up my data and I felt like I was going psycho I was so upset. But I don’t back up my photos or other files… wah! Your experience might just be a warning to me. I’ve got a new pendrive I’ve been “saving for a rainy day” (am I crazy?!) Looks like tonight will be back-up night.
Marta: Ouch indeed. It’s something, I think, we all mean to do but never get around to because, after all, our computers aren’t going to crash. Ever. Crazy thought to have, really.
Henitsirk: Distraction, headaches and a panicky husband (who thought he’d broken the computer…) are not a good combination. Next time, I walk away and take a few deep breaths.
Helen: I wish my grandmother still lived at home — she might still have had some of those powders left. We could have shared!
I sympathise with you about your writing — it happened to me at work a time or too. It’s never pleasant starting from scratch.
I managed to retrieve some of the photos from my flash cards — two of Kiko among them — but the rest? Kaputski. The cd-rws now live next to the computer, ready for the next time I download a truck load of photos from the camera.
[...] just looking for a reason to justify their silly little diluted religion, – dude, take a Bex and have a good lie down for god sake – I managed to spy a doorway adjacent a little glass window. Such wonders were [...]
Oh, lovey. Your pain has (in the past) been my pain, and I felt it all over again, reading this note on your site.
I was googling “Bex powders” today (2nd Oct 2009) and your blog came up. I hope you’re still writing. I hope you got a fine new camera and are taking photos and uploading them to somewhere (I use Picasa).
My Dad turned 80 this year August 2009, and I wanted to send him a letter telling him how much I love him. Every photo I have (slides, 35mm etc.) is in storage, and so I had to reinvent the wheel. I thought that I remembered nothing but the bad stuff from my childhood … but that wouldn’t make much of a birthday letter! However, Michael Jackson had died a few months earlier, and I put “Rockin’ Robin” in the search box in youface or tubebook or whatever you call it … and … amazingly, my little wee tiny mind started spewing forth everything … I trawled youtube for videos, and google images for photos etc. and laughed and cried for weeks as I wrote this epistle to Dad.
My burbling point is … until you get dimentia. your best IT backup is hidden in your own brain. You have an image of every photograph you ever took.
Send me your email and I’ll send you a couple of photos, as brothers (sisters) in Kodak arms!
Cheers, Bex