Yes, I have Covid. It seems that lateral flow tests are not a lot of use.
I probably have the Delta variant according to my sister. The symptoms are different to the original variant, which is why I didn’t realise what was happening. The Government, for some reason, isn’t publicising this. As a result, it looks like at least one nurse from the practice will be off work for ten days.
I feel bad about this, and have sent my apologies.
The cold I had on Friday (as reported in my last post, turned out to be a bit worse than expected and I took Saturday off work, spending most of it in bed. I spent most of Sunday in bed too and passed an unpleasant night coughing and spluttering.
This morning, feeling tired and washed out, I went to have my dressing changed (the healing is still going well) and discussed the cold with the nurse as I was worried about the way it had knocked me out.
She had a word with one of the doctors and I was instructed to get a Covid test. It seems that if you have symptoms they now send you for a test, even if the symptoms are of a cold rather than Covid. The three lateral flow test all count for nothing, which makes me wonder why we bother with them.
The booking procedure for a test is quite easy even if there are pages of badly designed forms to fill in.
I won’t go on. Partly because I’m too tired, and partly because I’m beginning to lose my inclination to fight the modern world.
The good news is that I can stay off work tomorrow until the result arrives. The bad news is that I might get another ten days off if it’s positive. I’m not sure I can take another ten days in isolation after being housebound for three weeks with my leg.
However, I may email my MP tomorrow and ask why we bother with lateral flow tests when doctors clearly have no faith in them.
On Tuesday I spent several hours in the back room of a shop with two people who texted on Thursday to tell me that they both had Covid. I tested immediately, and was negative.
Today, waiting between my two appointments at the surgery, I started with a small, dry cough. During the day, it carried on . . .
By the time I got home I realised that I had probably passed it on to several people, including my two workmates. They have both visited their elderly parents during the week and this clearly is not good.
As soon as I got in, I tested again and watched for the result.
Single bar next to the “C”. I’m still clear. The cough is still here too, but yet again a simple cough has been magnified into something it isn’t. This is a relief because I didn’t want to be responsible for spreading the virus to vulnerable people.
Both my friends are double vaccinated and so far, despite one being over 80, are reporting symptoms like those of a heavy cold. This is good.
Medical report – I have a cough and a case of paranoia. I also have some exercises from the physio and am feeling better already. The nurse is impressed by my capacity for recovery and thinks I will be able to take over my own dressings quite soon. Flu vaccine is due at the surgery this week and if it arrives they will vaccinate me during one of my other appointments.
It’s all looking good.
Diet report. We are only dealing in broad figures as I had my shoes on and didn’t count the decimal places but I have lost around eight pounds in the last two weeks despite eating apple crumble and ice cream, a McDonalds and chicken kebab meat with chips. You can see why I struggle with my weight, can’t you?
My breakfast of wheat biscuits, fruit and toast and marmalade remains the same. My lunch is just one sandwich with fruit or tomatoes (that’s reduced by one sandwich). In the evening I try to eat smaller portions in the evening but haven’t made any other changes.
If I cut down more i could probably loose more weight, but I may not feel quite so good about it if I cut out all the stuff I like. It’s a balancing act, but it’s working.
It’s been five weeks now and illness has changed the way I do things. I have a long handled shoe horn now, which is quite useful now that I have worked out the best way to use it. I have also just taken delivery of a set of braces. (That’s suspenders to you Americans. I have to add that, because in the UK suspenders are a very different thing to braces.
Braces are what old men use to hold their trousers up (hence the title). Suspenders belong to a completely different demographic and are used to hold stockings up.
There are worse indicators of advancing old age, but these are the thin end of the wedge.
I’m actually wearing the braces at the moment and they are very comfortable. They also feel more secure (a shrinking waistline and a dodgy belt have conspired to make the last few weeks quite challenging). I was going to buy another belt, but after reading that they can, when tightened excessively, cause bad backs and all sorts of digestive damage.
They were a bit tricky to set up (Julia had already gone to work when I made my first attempt) and I did get one strap twisted to begin with but they are generally simple to operate and there was no unexpected pinging.
I’ve practised trouser removal and it seems simple enough. It wasn’t actually the removal that bothered me, but the retrieval of the braces. They seem simple enough in the packet but they take on a life of their own once you put them on.
Meanwhile, the physio rang me at 8.00 as arranged and I have an appointment at 11.40 so they can prod me about and give me some exercises to help me regain mobility. My phone alarm just sounded – time to get ready for the appointment. I will write again later.
Got up late and felt sluggish. Socks went on OK but the trousers fought back and it took some time to sort out. After that it was down to the pharmacy to sort things out (again) which took nearly half an hour). Then, with what was almost a bin liner of dressings and bandages, I staggered across to the doctor. Here I had a blood test. The nurse in question has a good record of getting the blood, but clearly learnt her testing technique in a time when patient pain was not such an issue. They are still short of tubes. There was a short wait after that as I changed nurses and gat new bandages. The leg is looking a lot better. I’m still not keen on having it attached to me, but it’s not as repulsive as it was last week. I now have,enough bandages to make myself into a passable mummy for Halloween.
As I left the surgery I had a phone call – it was the shop asking if I was anywhere near McDonald’s as we had visiting London dealers and they were making a day of it.
That was about the end of the excitement apart from the tempura pork. We had a pork joint at the weekend and still had some slices left so Julia did it in tempura batter and put sweet and sour sauce on it. It was delicious. We also had stir fried vegetables but, as you know, I consider them a penance rather than a pleasure. Fried pork in batter with a sticky sauce, on the other hand, is a real pleasure.
I’ll get back to you about the diet.
The picture is an old selfie from a day when Julia left me waiting in the car and I ran out of inspiration to write haiku. At that point it’s either turn to limericks or selfies with special effects . . .
I’m not sure whether to be happy or sad. Even after thinking about it for a week I’m not sure.
Last Sunday we laid my parents’ ashes to rest in a Lancashire churchyard. On the day I was glad that the weather was good, my knee held up and my 91-year-old uncle was well enough to be there. Since then, I have been thinking, and suffering mixed feelings.
They wanted their ashes to be together, and as they were married over sixty years that seemed fair enough. When I agreed to it, I hadn’t really assessed all the implications. My sister, for instance, has been looking after mum’s ashes for the last five years, which has always felt slightly uncomfortable. Dad died about 18 months ago and we have been waiting for a convenient time to meet, allowing for the various problems with lockdown. We were going to meet a couple of weeks ago but both my uncle and I were ill, so we postponed it.
They are in the churchyard in Chatburn. It’s next to the school where they met, and it’s the church where they married in 1952. The vicar officiated, and it felt serious enough, without being overly formal. This was particularly true when the vicar found the second set of ashes to be significantly heavier than the first and my uncle remarked, “That’ll be our Jim.”
The black stone on the right is the grave of my great-grandmother and great-grandfather. One of my aunts is also buried there and their son Bill is commemorated on the stone, although he is buried near Ypres. You can see it from the front in this post.
One day I should research the family history of the churchyard. I know I have at least three great grandparents buried there, two aunts, a cousin and now two parents. I’m sure there are more but I have to admit that I have never researched it or kept track of the fate of modern ashes.
It was a great day from the point of weather and views and the sense of a task completed. However, it was also sad, and raised some questions in my mind about the wisdom of delaying such things. I wouldn’t mind being buried with Julia, but I’m now wondering how fair it is on the people who have to carry out these wishes, as it does prolong the sadness. In the week leading up to the ceremony I did feel a lot of the same feelings that I had done in the week before the funerals.
On balance, I’m glad we did it the way we did, but times change and I’m going to have to think things through regarding my own ashes.
Julia’s dad had the right idea, I think. The neighbours planted a cherry tree as a present for Julia’s mum when she retired from volunteering in the village. One night after she died, Julia’s dad buried her ashes under the tree. Later, after several moves, he died, and the family was able to sneak out under cover of darkness and bury his ashes under the same tree. They are together, but there wasn’t the element of delayed sorrow I had with mum and dad.
Meanwhile, if you are ever in Chatburn, and you might be one day if you ever feel the urge to visit Pendle Hill, do call at the Brown Cow for lunch. I had the best steak pudding I’ve ever had and my sister’s cheese and onion pie looked excellent.
The church. Another uncle Bill is on the war memorial. He never lived in the village but my aunt did and had his name put there. He is also listed on the West Witton war memorial, where he lived for some years with his grandparents. If you research memorials you will often find cases like this.
They are now buried in the walled off section at the bottom of the churchyard and are, as the vicar said, part of the history of the village. If you look across the Ribble Valley the hills you see in the distance are the Forest of Bowland. If you could see over the ridge you would see Slaidburn, a village we have already visited in the blog.
Today, the 19th of September 2021, I had pleasant surprise. I opened up Drifting Sands Haibun and found my haibun on the front page. I added the date because it will change over time. We are due for a new issue soon and it will change. But for a short while, I was there. Forgive my unseemly glee, but after being accepted a number of times it is difficult to set a new target, and getting to the front page of Drifting Sands was one that I had set myself.
For those of you reading this too late to see it on the front page, you can try here. Don’t get too excited, I think I posted the link before. It’s just the one about the crow and the ants.
Now, I know you are all wondering what I have done in the matter of Senior Moments. Well, some months ago, I had trouble with my emails, and nearly missed some emails from an editor. We managed to sort that out, but didn’t actually find the cause. Last week I finally started looking at my submission diary (remember I have been ill/lazy for a month) and realised that I should have had some contact from editors. I checked up and found that I had a haiku in a magazine. This was a surprise, but more evidence of the fact that I wasn’t getting emails, or I would have known it was being published.
This set up a panic reaction, because I don’t want to miss the chance of publication, or have editors think that I am rude or inefficient. I am both, but I don’t want people to think it . . .
I have just spent my afternoon writing to the editors who may have emailed me, explaining what happened. It’s a tricky email to write (three times) because there is always the chance that they may not have thought me worth responding to.
Earlier in the week I started to realise what I had done but, prodding around with my email controls in an unstructured and ill-informed way, managed to make it worse. Anyway, I have finally found the answer and corrected it.
I had reset my spam controls a couple of months ago to block a particularly irritating advertiser. In doing so, I had also added gmail to my list of blocked domains. This was clearly a bad move. However, it is unblocked now, explanations have been sent and I am a wiser man.
I felt tired, so I fell asleep in my chair. This is a bad thing to do, for many reasons. I then woke and went to get the pain killers from my desk. I still need them to get a good night’s sleep. While I was there I noticed the computer was on, so sat down and had a look at my emails. Over an hour later, I am still here and am now writing a blog post. This, if you needed any further evidence, demonstrates the deeply ingrained nature of my bad habits.
The good news is that my leg is looking good and it is likely that I will be released from the grip of the nurses in about two weeks if things continue as they are. They are all nice people, and I enjoy our chats, but it will be nice to get my life back.
My diet is not going quite as well as it was, as Julia is intent on making sure I eat properly (by which she means “more”) and I want to eat as little as possible. I have definitely cut back, but the quicker I lose it, the sooner I can start to enjoy the benefits of being lighter. I’m never going to be slender, but it would be nice to lose weight.
The downside (there always has to be a downside) is that my trousers are now too big for me and I need to get a better belt or start moving the buttons on the waistband. It’s not a bad problem to have, but it does show the advantage of elasticated waistbands. If I lose weight I may go back to Chinos and elasticated waistbands.
The header picture is the pond that inspired one of my haibun. Lavinia mentioned it in the comments so I thought it was good opportunity to re-use the picture.
Sorry, I’ve not been keeping up for the last few days, and have a let another deadline pass. It’s about time to get back into the swing of things but I’m going to do it in a relaxed manner. Sunday involved five hours of driving, which I don’t find as easy as I used to do, and tomorrow is going to be my first full day back at work.
Fortunately I have managed to sort of the knee problem myself. Originally I had to wait until Friday for my telephone physio appointment, so I decided I had better do something about it myself, as I couldn’t take another week of it. I’ve had a similar problem before and all the evidence was pointing to the problem being caused by having my leg elevated, even though I was being very careful to avoid straining my knee. The second part of the problem was that I couldn’t get into a decent position to push myself up, which was also putting strain on the knee.
This was easily solved. I removed the makeshift footstool and rested my foot on a rolled towel on the ground. This seemed to give me the most comfortable position to sit. It also allowed me to use the cushion from the footstool to raise my sitting position and to get a good straight push on the chair arms fro standing.
That evening I noticed a difference and two days later that part of the problem is nearly gone. I have not had the knee brace on since Sunday, which is even better news.
All this is made even better by the news that my physio “appointment” has been moved back to Friday 24th. I still have plenty to discuss but I won’t be in pain for the next two weeks as I wait.
The featured image is the one of gold-plated Buffalo Nickels that we had a complaint about several weeks ago. We supplied the customer with coins which were exactly as described, and the owner even agreed to a discount as he was taking them all. When he complained we said he was free to return them if he wasn’t happy. This was despite the fact were had done nothing wrong. He didn’t return them and instead gave us negative feedback, which is annoying. Someone else has also given us a negative because the post is taking a long time. This is not our fault, but he has decided it is. You can tell I’m getting better when I start talking about the evils of letting idiots bid on eBay.
I’m not quite ready to report on Sunday in its entirety, though I will get round to it in a day or two.
The driving went OK, helped considerably by a knee brace. I suffered a little last night, but the knee recovered as I slept and wasn’t too bad today.
Had my dressing changed this morning and progress is looking good – new skin forming and I’m hopeful that another week should see things just about healed.
Then I had a pneumonia vaccination, which was a surprise, as I didn’t think I could have one until I was 65. It’s always nice to get something for nothing.
Went to work and did another half day without a problem. Planning to do full days on Thursday and Saturday.The return to work is going quite well.
Adjusted my seating arrangements at home. I’m no longer putting my leg up, but this puts less strain on my knee, so it’s a good trade off. I have a telephone consultation booked with a physiotherapist on Friday to discuss this further.
The return to writing is not progressing quite as well as I had hoped, but it is progressing, even if it is very slow.
Asked my uncle about the day the school was bombed when I saw him on Sunday. It had occurred to me that although I knew my Mum had been there, my uncle and one of my aunts must also have been there. He was there, so I have another note to add to the family history.
Number One son reports that he is a little stiff from doing the Great North Run yesterday and that his time was in the top 5.000. As I’m a little stiff from just sitting in the car, I wouldn’t mind swapping with him. I’d be happy to be in the first 50,000.
Tried a few photos when I got home, but mostly blurred by a mix of wind and poor photography.