Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy (17 page)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Thanks to a suggestion by one of your readers the other week, I’ve been prescribed an anti-parkinsonian drug for my restless leg syndrome—but when I looked online, I found that the side-effects might include “intense urges to gamble” and “increased sexual urges (hypersexuality).” Should I throw the pills in the bin?

David, Buckinghamshire

… and you’re
worried
about this? The label might as well say, “side-effects including having a good time.” In all seriousness, though—there’s no point in curing your restless legs only to blow your life savings in Las Vegas on blackjack and hookers. Talk to your GP.

K.

King’s Speech Technique (Stuttering)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

As a self-confessed stutterer, have you ever gone through any of the treatments shown in the film
The King’s Speech,
like putting marbles in your mouth, or reciting Shakespeare while wearing headphones? Do you think a stutter can be cured?

Kim, Santa Barbara, California

I don’t know if a stutter can be cured, but I can tell you how to get one—drink and do drugs for 40 years. Believe me, getting to end of a single sentence is a major achievement when you’re on your second bottle of cognac and third speedball before breakfast. To answer the first part of your question, though: no, I’ve never had speech lessons—although I did once get hypnotised by Paul McKenna when I was trying to change my lifestyle. The trouble was, I was blasted at the time, so it’s hard to say if I was hypnotised, or if I just passed out, which was a daily occurrence in those days. As for my stutter, it’s been a lot better since I sobered up, and I’ve realised that it’s usually brought on by anxiety. When I’m nervous about something, my mind spins faster than my mouth can catch up, so I end up sounding like a World War II machine gun. By taking a deep breath and slowing down a bit, I can usually keep it under control.

L.

Lead (Poisoning)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I’m currently renovating my family’s Georgian townhouse and have just come across a government leaflet about lead paint. Now I’m terrified that every little thing I do will create poisonous dust that will brain-damage my toddler and pregnant wife. Please help.

Ryan, Edinburgh

A lot of people might not take this kind of thing very seriously, but I had a cousin who was an industrial painter, and he got asbestosis. So if I were you, I’d be wearing a rubber suit and a gas mask in the house. I mean, yeah, people my age grew up eating more lead paint chips than they did French fries, but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Kids also used to ride in cars without seatbelts while their parents smoked themselves blue in the face with the windows closed: it doesn’t mean we should do it
now
. Call your local council, ask them what the right procedure is, and follow it. Meanwhile, if you’ve already started to sand the woodwork, send your wife and toddler to the in-laws until the job’s all done and you’ve been given the all-clear by a qualified inspector.

DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD

Heavy Metal Madness

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.

M.

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 some
thing
, 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.

N.

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 Mötley Crüe, 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:

Almost every night I wake up in the early hours drenched in sweat. It’s disgusting—the sheets are soaked through. I’ve tried to turn up the air conditioning, but to no effect. What’s causing this, and how do I stop it from happening?

Olivia, New York

Could be nylon sheets. Those things make me sweat like I’m on Death Row. I can’t have ’em near me. Same with feathers, which mess my chest up, and sleeping bags, which are one step removed from being buried alive. If it ain’t your sheets, it could be what you’re wearing, or it could be an allergy—or the side-effect of some medication you’re taking. If I were you, I’d try something different every night, and try and solve it that way.

DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD

Wet Dreams

It’s amazing how many people wake up in the morning feeling sweatier than one of Jabba the Hut’s armpit. One reader, Lisa, wrote to me: “I suffered night sweats for 15 years before a gynaecologist did a blood test and diagnosed that I had next to no oestrogen. Although I wasn’t menopausal or pre-menopausal, I was having the same kind of symptoms. Now I take a daily supplement and my life has changed utterly.” Meanwhile, Gabrielle in London reckoned she’d solved the problem with a silk-filled duvet, while a GP from Scotland—he didn’t want to give his name, funnily enough—said a bad case of the sweats might be a symptom of something called “polymyalgia rheumatica.” I’m told that means “pain in many muscles” in Greek. Sounds like one of my mid-1980s hangovers.

Nipples (Unusual)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Like Francisco Scaramanga in
The Man with the Golden Gun, I have a third nipple. Should I be worried?

Gary, Dorset

Only if it starts talking to you.

O.

Obscene Language (Excessive Use Of)