¦ Tristan Olivier from the Lead Paint Safety Association tells me that local councils might not be much help when it comes to advice on handling toxic dust in old houses (see Ryan from Edinburgh, above). “Given the extent to which childhood lead exposure is linked to reduced IQ, learning and behaviour problems, this is probably the biggest, least known and worst addressed public health issue in the UK,” he says. For more info, visit the LPSA’s website, at www.lipsa.org.uk.
Legs (Sleepy) Dear Dr. Ozzy,
My leg keeps “falling asleep” without any warning. Does this mean I have poor circulation?
Lauren, Sheffield One time, I got drunk, badly drunk—on cognac—and went to sleep in the wrong position, and when I woke up my leg felt like it wasn’t even there any more. It was just this useless lump attached to my thigh. At first I didn’t think it was a problem… but it went on for three months. I went to my doc, and he told me—seriously—that he might have to chop it off. I said to him, “I’m a rock ’n’ roll star! I can’t hobble around the stage with a wooden leg, singing ‘Iron Man’!” Eventually, another doctor took a look at and said that it was more likely caused by my alcoholism. So if you’re a heavy drinker, I’d recommend cutting down, or giving up entirely. Otherwise, make sure you don’t sit in the same position for a long time. And if you go and see a doctor, remember: if he ever starts using phrases like “electric saw” and “operating table,” there ain’t nothing stopping you from getting a second opinion. I’m certainly fucking glad I did.
Mourning Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My wife died in January. I’ve been having counselling for the last six months but it’s very lonely with just me and my two Bedlington terriers. I feel as though I have so much free time and need to fill it. Can you offer any advice on coping with grief?
David, London The thing I realised when I lost someone who was very close to me—my ex-guitarist Randy Rhoads—is that no-one can ever really prepare you for coping with sudden death. You’re pretty much on your own. What you’ve got to come to terms with is that grief is simply a natural process, and that everyone goes through it at some point in their life. The best thing you can do is join a counselling group, or at least find someone you can talk to about it—which it sounds like you’re already doing. Having said that, of course, I didn’t take any of that advice when Randy died. I locked the grief away, so it manifested itself in other ways, like drugs and alcohol. The trouble was, when I was kid, anyone who went to therapy was one step away from the funny farm. I know better now. I suppose another thing you’ve gotta accept is that you never fully get over the death of someone who’s been that close to you. I mean, even today, when I’m on stage playing any of the songs from my two albums with Randy, it’s as though he’s right there at my side. But it’s a good feeling now, not a bad one.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I keep suffering terrible anxiety attacks. It started when my uncle—who was like a dad to me —died in his sleep from a random cardiac arrest (I never met my real dad until I was 13). I’ve been to psychologists, but all they tell me is that if I realise I’m not going to die, the panic will go away. That’s bullshit, because I know I won’t die… but I still feel like I’m about to blow up inside. Please help…
Don (17 years old), Texas, USA Sounds to me like grief, Don. People don’t take grief seriously enough, because the loss of someone, or even something, can be very hard to get over. It sounds crazy, but when I was in rehab, I had to attend “grief groups” for the loss of drugs and alcohol in my life. I thought it was stupid at first—especially when I met a guy in there who was sobbing about his recently departed cat—but I soon discovered that grief can mess you up, badly. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what’s causing your panic attacks. Your body is overloaded with emotion. So my recommendation would be that you get on the internet and find your own local grief group. It’s a lot healthier than going to your GP for a bottle of Valium: that’ll just fix one problem and start five others.
Napping (Guidelines Regarding) Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the ideal length for an afternoon nap? My friends swear by them, but every time I doze off during the day I wake up in a terrible mood with a splitting headache.
Ross, Aberdeen I never used to understand naps. When I was a kid, I’d see my old man dozing off in his favourite chair and think, “You went to bed last night, why d’you need to sleep now?” But as I got older myself, I began to understand. For me, the point of a nap isn’t about sleep, it’s just about getting some “quiet time,” so you can recharge. It’s a break from all the craziness of modern life. So if you find yourself waking up from a nap feeling like a dog’s arsehole, my advice would be, try just giving yourself twenty or thirty chilled-out minutes by yourself instead. Read, do some stretching exercises, or go out for a walk.
Nightmares (Prevention Of) Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What can I do before I go to bed to prevent bad dreams?
William, Alnwick Funnily enough, one of the few things I’ve never had a problem with is nightmares. Every so often I’ll have a really confusing dream—but never one where a zombie Ryan Seacrest is shooting blood from his eyeballs and trying to cut out my liver with rusty steak knife. Mind you, I didn’t dream at all for about 40 years, because I’d never go to bed—the only rest I got was when I blacked out once every three or four days. One time, when I was on tour in America with Motley Crue, I blacked out in the central reservation of a twelve-lane freeway (I’d been trying to find somewhere to take a piss). In fact, waking up was always the biggest nightmare for me. Not that I’d recommend my former lifestyle as a way to avoid bad dreams. Instead, try thinking about something that makes you feel really good before you shut your eyes. Or have a nice cup of tea —but nothing too stimulating (ie, black coffee). And whatever you do, avoid sleeping pills at all costs, or you might end up with a worse problem than the one you started with.
Nightsweats Dear Dr. Ozzy:
