Tag Archives: health

Coshed With a Lexicon

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Sorry everybody, we’ve had visitors over the weekend, and added to the heat I’ve not been working very hard. I also had portions of four days last week in the hands of the medical profession. One of them only involved waiting for a parcel of injectable methotrexate, but it all adds to the disruption and lack of concentration.

Then there is the fact that I have become accustomed to idling my days away as two oscillating fans do their best to make my day bearable.

 

It is with considerable horror that I realise it has been six days since I last posted. In that time I have taken delivery of an order of injector pens, looked up possible side effects (I had, I admit, too much time on my hands) ,had a blood test and been comprehensively prodded by doctors. On one day I was forced to sit in a small Perspex cage breathing into a tube. Fortunately they had fans around the room and I was able to avoid melting. The technician working the device said I was lucky to be in at 9.45, as it got considerably hotter by mid-day.

One of the side effects of the methotrexate, by the way, is hair loss. This one, I confess, does not worry me. Drowsiness is no real problem either. I like a nap. My liver disintegrating (I may be exaggerating here, they may have used some weasel words like “Functionally impaired”) does concern me a bit but I have quarterly blood test to check on that. I only take it for arthritis, if I was taking it in the dose necessary for chemotherapy I imagine I would be less inclined to make light of the problems. It can also cause memory impairment (“chemo fog”) and . . . well, to be honest I can’t remember the rest . . .

Sorry, couldn’t resist

Although it’s true, I do have difficulty with this sort of thing.  Some of the words are very long and barely comprehensible. Sometimes it’s like being hit repeatedly with a dictionary, or a sock full of billiard balls.

I keep meaning to take better care of myself, but it can be difficult when you don’t know what the words mean.

The good news is that I passed the blood test. The respiratory test showed decent results. Not good, but a lot better than I feared. Once the results are with the doctor, we will see what happens. Probably not a lot.

Little Egret – Blacktoft Sands

A Few Sobering Thoughts

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I knew it was the end of the month because of the increasing sense of urgency that always comes on at this time. What I hadn’t realised until today was that this also means I have doner nothing about decluttering for over a month. One twelfth of the year has slipped by . It’s not as if I have that many months to waste. Assuming I live into my mid-80s, which is about the family norm, I only have about 200 months to go. I will pause for a moment and think about that.

I paused. I thought. And then a little voice came into my head. Looks like I will be going on a diet tomorrow. And exercising. And taking more notice of the doctor. I might even start taking notice of Julia, though it’s unlikely. The trouble is that if I were a betting man, I wouldn’t be confident about the “mid-80s” part of the prediction.

When we were moving house I found some paperwork I had done when I was working for someone else and  before we had children, detailing what I had to do to retire at 60. Of course, the accuracy of that prediction melted like snow in June as soon as I went into business for myself and we had kids.

Once, though, I was organised and reasonably successful. I wasn’t, however, as happy as I would have liked. I am, despite the unsuccessful life that followed, quite happy and although my lack of material success and career achievement come back to haunt me now and again, I’m reasonably happy with what I’ve done.

And so, with 200 months to go, I’m going to start making the most of it. More plans, more things to do and around 6,000 more blog posts to write. It’s going to be an interesting time.

Photos are some that Julia took at Ferry Meadows. The one of the heron shading the water is particularly interesting – I didn’t know they did that in the UK. I thought it was something they did in sunny places. he second picture shows it with a fish in its beak. Unfortunately, the light ws poor.

Catching Up – In Sickness and in Health

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Bumble bee on bramble flowers – Sherwood Forest

First things first – Julia is still not well. A few of the dissolving stitches have now come out, but they should have done that weeks ago. The car continues to pull, though it is now dry. She has a bit of trouble breathing. However, we are hoping that the visit to the outpatient’s clinic early next week will give her some answers and a definite course of action.

Meanwhile, she had another visit to A&E on Sunday night (from 6pm to 6pm), but this time travelled in style as we were conveyed by ambulance.

This time, though, it wasn’t her who was ill, it was me.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Basically, as she pointed out, she married an idiot. And I can’t dispute that. I started with a bit of a fever on Friday and Saturday, fighting it off with Paracetamol and sleep. It seemed to work, but on Sunday it came back with a vengeance. Eventually, after being told to go to A&E by someone Julia rang on  a helpline, I refused and went to bed. When she woke me again, I was incoherent and couldn’t actually stand. We knew what it was, because  I’ve had it before. I’ve also been told off by the doctor before. You can’t fight off sepsis with cold cures.

This time it really did a job on me and though we caught it quickly, I should have caught it a lot quicker. If I had, I might not have had to spend four nights in hospital.

Wild flowers

I will tell you about it later. I’ve been at the computer for an hour and am now tired and need to go to sleep. Yes, I’m that weak. On Monday I couldn’t lift a puzzle magazine. On Tuesday  I couldn’t finish a puzzle. On Wednesday they started making more sense and I was getting quite good. By Thursday I was bored of puzzle mags but still lacked the concentration to read a book. I actually ordered groceries online using my phone, but could only manage to do about a third of it before breaking off for a nap.

After returning home I have chatted, dozed, watched TV, eaten cheese on toast and tried catching up on my correspondence. Now, defeated again, I am off to bed.

More stories tomorrow.

Pigs and flowers

A Bright & Early Start, Declining . . .

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It’s the full vegetarian breakfast experience for Julia today. She’s doing most of the heavy lifting in the move so Sunday breakfast is the least I can do. Scrambled eggs, beans on toast, mushrooms, fried tomatoes. We are still ripening the tomato crop in bags with bananas. It was either that or fried green tomatoes. Next year, with the new kitchen, I may make green tomato chutney. Or, the slightly less trying climate of a sheltered back garden a bit farther south, we may not end up with a basket of green tomatoes. It seems to be lacking bacon, sausage and black pudding but at our age it’s probably time to develop a healthier lifestyle.

Actually, that time was probably  thirty years ago but, like tree planting, the second best time is now.

Yes, I read a lot of low-brow books…

When we move we will, as I think I said yesterday, have a microwave that does air frying, which should be even healthier. Something I noticed when I started to make my arrangements for retiring was that I started to worry about dying before I had enjoyed sufficient retirement. I have enough plans to last me for the next fifty years so I’m not going to run out of stuff to do.

Obviously, going into politics with my new party “The Grumpy Old Men of Great Britain” has been put on the back burner – it will be a few years before the next election so, in my normal tradition of procrastination I will leave it for a few years before starting.

It’s going to be a one issue party with a focus on bile and vitriol, because this seems to be rising in popularity these days. I will leave the “foreigners” alone because most of them have enough to put up with and don’t need me to add to it. Anyway, it’s bad manners to make guests feel unwelcome, and if a party of old people is going to stand for anything, it should stand for good manners. For a while, I did think of picking on young people, with their Americanised speech (“Can I get a coffee?” is a deplorable crime against the English language) and their dreadful music, but, as Julia pointed out, they are the ones working to pay for my pension and health care, so I’ve shelved that too. Politics, deep down, is about self-interest, after all.

I parked this while I went to eat breakfast, then forgot to get back to it. I feel slightly disorientated on discussing breakfast at 6.30 pm and wonder where my day went. (It was mainly sorting and dusting books).

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The First Day of Retirement

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Vegetable Soup of Indeterminate Ingredients

For the last six years I have had Wednesdays off work, because, with us working weekends, Wednesday was the only day we could have off together. Gradually we have done less, and the NHS has demanded more of my time, so it was often a day for medical stuff.

Today, though the first official day of my retirement, featured no work, a blood test and a trip to the jewellers to drink tea and get a watch battery and a new strap. Thus, it was impossible to tell the difference between work and retirement. Tomorrow, I will be in hospital for 8.30 to have a pre-operative assessment. I got quite excited when I got the booking but it seems that they now last six months (they used to do them the week before the operation at one time).

Mushroom Soup with healthy pumpkins seed garnish

That means that I will have to wait until Friday to notice the difference between working and being retired. Even then, as Fridays had been reduced to half a day, it won’t make much difference. It will be Saturday before I really notice and, to be honest, as Julia will be in Toronto, I’m not really going to have much of a day.

I thought that the hardest part of being retired would be striking a balance between the workload (I know a number of people who work harder in retirement than they did when they were at work)  and the inclination to stay in bed all day. In fact, the hardest part so far has been noticing that I’m actually retired. If Julia were here she would doubtless make some barbed comment about me being semi-retired since the 1990s.

She’s only been gone a day and I’m already missing her.

Carrot & Ginger Soup

Carrot & Ginger Soup

Today’s illustrations are soup. After two days of cake and Chinese takeaway my digestion is pleading for plain food and my brain is telling me to eat more vegetables. Tomorrow, I think, will be a soup making day. I’m thinking mushroom and sweetcorn. It’s a strange combination but I have surplus mushrooms and half a can of sweetcorn in the fridge. Though I also have tinned tomatoes and a bag of lentils, so that’s a possibility too.

 

 

15 More Saturdays

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I think I now have 15 more Saturdays left to work. It’s not many. However, where I was dreading the countdown a few weeks ago, it now can’t come fast enough.

I’m probably a bit of a letdown to my family with this, because one of my grandfathers worked on after retirement, as did my father.  My father carried on full time until he was 67 and then started his own business, which he ran until he was well into his 70s. He did this because he had no hobbies (apart from working), which is something I always said I would not allow to happen.

One of the things I am aware of is that my other grandfather had to retire early with Parkinson’s Disease, and my mother started with it in her early 70s. There is little point saving enjoyment for some future time if I may become too ill to enjoy it. My mother got very cross with me once when I said I ws going to wait until I retired before doing something. I can’t remember what it was, and I still haven’t done it, but I am aware of the general principle.

I’m not thinking of getting Parkinson’s, just using it as an example. My cousin, a GP, tells me that as far as they know, it isn’t hereditary, it’s just quite common. I don’t really need Parkinson’s as I have enough to be going on with as it is. I’m still coming to terms with arthritis, which was a bit of a surprise when it happened.

I had a letter yesterday inviting me to apply for my State Pension. I may have mentioned it. I forget things these days. Things are getting closer.

Tomorrow I am going to make a list of everything I need to do to move house. It is going to be a lot longer than I think. These things always are.

I have subscriptions to half a dozen poetry magazines, so that’s six addresses I will have to change. I’m in three poetry societies. RSPB, Wildlife Trust . . .

That’s a lot of letters. That’s why I used the P id for Postbox 10p coin as a header picture. I used the sunrise for the end picture as I like it.

And yes, it’s likely that next week’s post will be 14 More Saturdays. Once you find a winning formula you may as well stick with it.

 

 

A Doctor Calls

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I had a call from a doctor this morning. They were following up on a letter about my blood test results and wanted to discuss things I had already spoken to someone about on Friday. I manged to work this subtly into the conversation and things became a little more productive when they read the notes of my last three visits.

Long-tailed tit – the bumbarrel of John Clare’s poetry

They were worried about my low iron levels. This is the second conversation I have had on my iron levels, so I’m beginning to worry about them too. The problem isn’t the actual iron levels, it’s that I don’t actually know what they do. They might be very important. In fact, as I’ve had two phone calls about them, they probably are.

Symptoms include –

  • tiredness and lack of energy (which I already have – I’ve been poorly)
  • shortness of breath (ditto)
  • noticeable heartbeats (heart palpitations) (this is why I take Warfarin)
  • pale skin (I’m white English, I work indoors, it’s winter)

All in all, not a very impressive bunch of symptoms, and not very distinctive. Fortunately I was able to isolate the likely cause by reference to my notes (which the doctor opened up when I explained what was happening). When I originally had the cough that started all the problems, I was aware that the violence of the coughing could cause pulled muscles, so I was very careful. Unfortunately I seem to have done a lot of coughing at night and tore some abdominal muscles, which hurt quite badly for several days. In this time, partly due to my ingestion of Warfarin, my torso turned into one big bruise. It’s fading now, but it must have taken quite a lot of blood to make it. And with that blood, is a lot of iron.

Fortunately the underlying levels of iron in my body seem fine. This is probably due to high levels of sprouts during Christmas and broccoli at all times because Julia likes it. When I go for blood tests in about a month they will test again.

I had overnight oats for lunch, because i got up so slowly, and am now looking at my list of jobs. Several of them involve using the phone. One of them involves using the phone and being able to take an incoming call. This means once I do that one I can’t ring out again until I have the answering call. That was another thing I didn’t think of when I decided to have the landline taken out.

Merganser – a winter visitor to our southern levels

The header picture is a male gadwall – our dullest, greyest duck.

Two Poems Published

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I finally found the energy to have a look round the net today. It’s been a while. My apologies to all the people I have been neglecting, I will get round to doing some meaningful reading and writing, I promise, but it’s going to take time.

I took a trip to CHO and found two poems by a sadly neglected Nottingham poet. He is currently being ignored by his wife who thinks he is now well enough to make his own hot drinks. After two weeks of fetching and carrying she has abandoned the nurturing model and is adopting the survival of the fittest model. This involves me using a kettle or dehydrating. A weak and quavery voice and a raspy breath is no longer, it seems, the way to get endless tea.

She will be sorry when I keep her awake tonight with the howling of random wheezes in my bronchial tubes.

Tomorrow I am having blood tests and, probably, another consultation with the doctor.

Tonight, however, I am going to provide links to my two poems that are in CHO. This is one that started off being about swans and ended up being about a cormorant.  No, I don’t know how I manged it either. Editing is a wonderful thing. And this is the other – it’s just another one about arthritic fingers so don’t get too excited. I really must try to write about larger themes this year.

I’m currently considering a poem on the importance of continued breathing. At the moment I’m still doing the research but if I continue my slow recovery it’s likely I could start writing it in a week or so. I’m also thinking of writing one about eating chocolate, not sure when I’ll write it but I’m off to try a bit of research now.

10p P is for Post Box

A Very Quick Blog Post

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When I switched TV off I had 20 minutes between programmes, which is often enough to write a short blog post. By the time I’d had a drink, a slice of olive bread and a quick read/reply session, this has fallen to 5 minutes.

I’m going to write as much as I can and come back to it later. Unless I fall asleep in front of the TV. Or unless I write so fast I finish my 250 words in 5 minutes.

I’ve done eighty words in three minutes so you never know.

Today was marked by a slight feeling of not being as well as yesterday. It’s almost undefinable, but it was definitely there for the first few hours. Apart from that we passed a pleasant day chatting and watching TV. Well, I did, Julia sometimes replied and sometimes watched TV but mainly she wrote a grant application for the MENCAP Gardens.

She won’t, of course, be paid for it, and probably won’t be thanked for it, but that’s how she’s always worked. And a willing worker will always find an employer willing to take advantage.

183 words – six minutes. I will come back to this later.

In fact, I won’t. It’s close enough to the end to keep going. I also managed to write the outlines of two good poems this afternoon. It’s hard at the moment because I’n not quite sharp enough yet, and because I don’t have anything to aim for this month. After a quiet month in October, I have a quiet month in November, then one fo those months that come round every quarter, when everyone seems to be open for submissions. I think I have twelve submission opportunities in December. And Christmas.

Wollaton Hall, Nottingham. AKA Wayne Manor in one of the Batman Films.

284 words done. Self-imposed target reached. Ten minutes.

 

The Great Ledger of Life

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If today were to have an entry in the Great Ledger of Life it would not, I suspect, be totally positive.

I had several interesting and reflective conversations with wife, which would be a positive.

Bacon and black pudding cobs for breakfast would be in the “iffy” column. They are definitely nice for a leisurely breakfast, but from a health point of view are almost certainly frowned on by thin people within the NHS.

Slept through and hour and a half of dull TV before spending a couple of hours awake in front of dull TV programmes. That would definitely be bed, and a waste of life.

“Read a Kindle book on the Vikings” should be a positive but as the entry continues “written with a 21st Century slant” you can probably guess what my thoughts are. The Vikings, it seems, are bad. I can go along with that, as it’s a point of view I’ve heard before. However, when I am  informed that they are bad on the grounds that they had slaves and influenced British Imperial thinking, I begin to recognise a touch of fashionable bias. Bias is OK in historical writing as we all have it, but I do dislike the taint of fashion or opportunism.

These are not, I confess, traits found only in this book, as virtually any TV historian you watch these days seems to be contractually obliged to mention the evils of slavery and Imperialism in relation to British history.

It’s very much like the popular view of the Great War – Lions led by Donkeys and all that, plus Blackadder Goes Forth and the famous drinks cabinet line. “Field Marshal Haig is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to Berlin.” It’s a view that has been popular for around 60 years now, to the point where schools are showing Blackadder as a history resource, despite it being a comedy programme. You may as well rely on Oh! What a Lovely War as a source. However, if you say something often enough it becomes the accepted view, and is often accepted as fact, as you can see when reading many WP blogs.

That’s it for today. I’m going to look for some photos and go to bed now. I would say that I’ll see you tomorrow, but at my age you can’t always be certain of that. This is the problem with writing about unhealthy breakfasts and warfare – it encourages thoughts of mortality.

Olympic Breakfast