I’ve felt much better today possibly due in part to the good night’s sleep I had. When the registrar, who had last seen me on Wednesday, came round she said I looked much better than then. She said I can switch to oral antibiotics from today too which is good because that means I can go home tomorrow! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
My mouth’s feeling way more mouth and tongue like today. There’s probably only about half of the old lining and bits hanging around and it’s generally much easier to use. For example, it took me all of two minutes to take my tablets this morning whereas last Friday night it took me four hours. I didn’t realise this at the time of course. I started taking them at 10.00pm and it was taking a while to get them down because my mouth was sore and I kept nodding off in-between tablets – well obviously slightly more than nodding off. I got out of bed to powder my nose thinking it would be about 11.00pm and it was nearly 2.00am. Plus it’s way easier to speak. B brought me a bag of crisps earlier which I managed to finish although you don’t realise just how much you use your tongue to dislodge stuff that gets lodged in your teeth and your finger isn’t quite the same.
The only mishap today was a nose bleed. And no, I hadn’t been poking my finger up there. Well, not far enough to cause this one. I thought it was becase my fingers had wandered in the vicinity of the scab on the inside of the tip (if that makes sense – it’s kinda inside but just at the very bottom before anyone thinks I’m doing a Rudolph impression again) and I’m itching to pick it but it was a proper nose bleed. I just got some tissue and squeezed the appropriate place and it wasn’t too bad. Then I grabbed a big wodge of tissue and squeezed for a while and suddenly realised my hand was feeling moist, pulled the tissue away and there was a far amount of blood and a biggish clot. That was when I pressed my buzzer and let me tell you gauze is much more absorbant than tissue. It took about 50 minutes to stop completely and resulted in a bag of platelets.
Oh, oh, and I’m not getting my hopes up about this – I’m just going to assume it’s not going to happen so I’m not hugely disappointed – but the renal doctor called to see me in dialysis this morning and said ‘Just because your weeing more doesn’t mean we can stop dialysis. We need to see if your kidneys are removing toxins as well as fluid so you need to do a 24 hour collection.’ So I get to collect wee on Christmas Day!
But enough about me, over to B.
B went to see his GP on Monday after taking the mounentous decision not to go into work on Sunday night. Mounumentous as in the 24 and a half years he’s been working for this company (okay technically most of it was for another company until they outsourced their distribution) he has had five and a half weeks off nearly 10 years ago when he injured two discs in his back at work and one day when he had a bad case of the trots. When he announced his intention on Sunday afternoon, after whispering it to his nephew, while my sister in law and I were gassing and making us suspicious, neither of us could believe it and she got up and hugged him.
Since I’ve been in hospital he’d been getting three to four hours sleep on the days he worked. I could say he had been coming in and nodding off but there would have been nothing new there and he was actually doing it less than usual probably. It was getting to the point where he was ringing me up and sounding all woeful and down. I said to him he was meant to be cheering me up when he came to visit not the other way round. Plus apparently after seeing me on Saturday he was really fretting about how I was going to cope on my own when I got home. The first thing his GP asked was how I was but before he answered that he asked if he could read his preprepared statement which included this information and started filling up during part of it. She told him not to start blubbering and gave him a sick note for three weeks for acute stress and some sleeping tablets – which he has no intention of taking. She is actually really caring and as I’ve said before I can’t praise our GPs high enough.
When I was speaking to a friend earlier I realised that the mincemeat incident (which has earned him a homemade minced beef pie) isn’t the only thing he’s had trouble with of late or more exactly this week. Let’s have a shufty at some of the other things he’s done this week other than the mincemeat mix-up…
The roman blind in the kitchen has three cords pulling it up. One of these had snapped just before I came in but I couldn’t be bothered fixing it at the time and it still worked. Another one snapped shortly after I was admitted and B has been putting the kitchen light on since. Oh, there have been discussions, there have even been diagrams and there have been at least three attempts to rectify the situation. Once B had got past the initial problem of what went where and the concept of just tying a knot in it and not bothering if it was crooked there arose the whole issue of how to get all three or even two of the threads through the screw eye at the top. I suggested he try a fine knitting needle. When that didn’t work he had a final attempt this week with a drawing pin! Despite me telling him that string was too thick he bought some anyway and then came in and said it was too thick. When it looked like I was going to be home last Saturday he said to the doctor ‘She can fix the blind then.’ to which she replied ‘She’s not fixing the blind!’
A friend called on Tuesday evening and decided I needed a short dressing gown. So she went out on Wednesday and bought me one. She was going to bring it in herself but she started with a cold so she rang B to say she would drop it off. He turned up on Wednesday without said item. I thought he was winding me up. He then said he couldn’t remember if she’d left anything or not. I then enquired as to why she wouldn’t have left anything if that was her whole reason for calling. She rang shortly after he’d left to see if I liked it.
On Monday Bud’s pet flap broke, or maybe that should be Bud broke his pet flap as he does approach it at speed. B went and bought another one and fit it on Tuesday. He had a bit of a struggle with the screws as it was presumably designed for a wooden door thickness and we have uPVC but he got there in the end – after a few complaints about the standard of the initial fixing. Yesterday when he came in he said he was a bit worried about Bud using the pet flap while he was out as he’d found he had a piece he’d not used. I have visions of Bud wearing the whole thing as a waistband and clattering his way up the step into the kitchen. Now I have to admit from his description I had no idea what this piece could be so it was either a really poor description or I wasn’t listening properly as this morning I received a phone call. B wasn’t too happy as he’d spent two hours fiddling with the thing to no avail and then looked at the box and it turned out it was a free second white flap. And yes before anyone else asks, because I did, he did look at the instructions.
During the same phone call this morning B also informed me that he’d fused the Christmas tree lights. We’ve had these lights for years and I had yet to replace a bulb but one had gone this year and he removed it while the lights were on and pouff no lights. He tried changing the fuse in the plug but that didn’t help however he did notice at that end the label saying do not remove bulbs while lights are switched on. He also couldn’t find the second box with the tree decorations in it so suggested, instead of looking again in the loft, going into town and buying some more lights and some tinsel. After our conversation he subsequently found the box and we’re doing without lights.
On Wednesday during the shopping list check of the fridge I realised that he probably hadn’t thrown away the fruit juice that I had opened just over five weeks ago. As we don’t drink the same juices he wouldn’t have touched them. So I told him to throw anything of mine that was open away. Yesterday when he visited he said something that made me question him. ‘What do you mean?’ I exclaimed in sheer disbelief. Apparently it had seemed such a waste to throw the four cartons of partly used juice away, and he assumed I couldn’t have it because of being neutropenic not because it had been open five weeks, that he’d given it to the friend who dropped the dressing gown off. I can only imagine it would be like treacle or crawl out on its own. I said I’d ring her later but he insisted on calling her instead. Fortunately she’d felt so rough by the time she got home she’d left it in the car and gone to bed.
I just hope Auntie Ann’s cold has gone by Christmas Day or B is going to have to cook for us.