Hospital

(Written: 20 August and not edited for updates)

The last few weeks have been very full on and quite stressful. Unrelated to any of the other goings on I have just been to hospital for my uretic stent change. It's relatively routine. In 2017 after complications with my cancer my right kidney blocked. Unfortunately it wasn't straightforward and the exit to my kidney had to have surgery and an internal stent inserted. Apparently it's relatively routine. Unfortunately it has to be replaced every 3 or 4 months. So for the last 8 years I have been travelling down to Ayr Hospital for the surgery. It has been a long journey but I've always combined it with a stay with my pal, Anna, in Glasgow. The hospital is absolutely fantastic and a model of what every hospital should be like. As a consequence many of the staff on the ward I have attended for years have been there the whole time. 

For various reasons I have had an unfortunate history of pre-sepsis and, on a few occasions, full blown sepsis. Occasionally after my procedure and usually after it had been delayed. As a result they never allow me to be discharged until they are sure that I'm okay. The medics seem to have found a solution, though, and I've not had any problems for a few years. 

Last November it was decided that, given my age etc, it would be better if I was transferred to Raigmore Hospital in Inverness which is my 'local' hospital. for major things. Our local Stornoway Hospital is excellent but lacks some specialities. Raigmore is a hospital built in it's current form in 1970 with the tower block being opened in 1985. It is now far too small and appears to be understaffed and, probably, underfunded. 

As it caters for the whole of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland patients who are on longer-term treatment are not looked after on wards within the hospital. There are accommodation blocks a few hundred yards away which provide bedrooms (without ensuite facilities) and nothing else. In winter and the rain it's a long trek over the car parks to the main hospital entrance and what passes for a cafeteria which closes at 6.30 pm. It's even longer when you are feeling absolute crap in the middle of treatment. 

Anyway I had my stent changed and walked back to the accommodation block and at crack of dawn next morning went to the airport and was home well before lunch. 

I'm still recovering from the shock. 

The Middle of the Night

Why is everything so much more concerning if one wakes up in the middle of the night?

I usually wake in the night these days but it's momentary and I'm back asleep before I have time to think about it.

A couple of nights ago I woke up at 1am (ish) having only been asleep a few hours. I went back to sleep but it wasn't 'good' sleep. I was awake again before 3am. This time I couldn't get back to sleep - I was properly awake. At least I felt fully awake.

"Why?" I wondered. In the past if I woke properly there was a discernible reason: usually I would have had rigors which indicated the onset of sepsis to which I am exceptionally prone because of my uretic stent. However it's several years since I had an 'attack' and, so far as I could tell, I felt fine.

But the mind plays silly-beggars at 3am. What if I wasn't okay? I have been known to wake up and been delirious. It's difficult on the phone to the emergency services when one is delirious. Fortunately the emergency services can see my phone number and therefore my  history on their screen. They even know the code for my front door. There is usually an ambulance here quickly. The magic word that scares medics (and me!!) is 'sepsis'. 

I've only had full blown sepsis once and I happened to be in hospital at the time.     I came around from my operation and by the afternoon I was delirious. About  three days later I came around. Of course I just thought I'd been asleep for an hour or two but I was puzzled as to why I had so may tubes all over the place . I felt washed out and woozy but I was fully conscious.

The nurse who happened to be taking readings when I woke said "Well, Graham, good to see you. You've been a bit of a worry." Apparently, according to the doctor, that was a masterful understatement. 

Had I gone to sleep in the middle of the night at home I might not have wakened up at all.  

Anyway after worrying for a short while I went back to sleep and, as you can tell from this post, I woke up again full of life.

Home - Again

Thank you all very much for your comments on my last post. I read most of them in hospital on my phone and then on my laptop when I eventually got out of hospital. The procedure itself is uncomplicated and fairly routine (every 4 months for me) and simply involves replacing my uretic stent. My problem for many years was my propensity to become pre-sepsis or even get sepsis which is not a Good Thing. My body has given the medics (and me) a right royal scare on a number of occasions. 

All that seems to be a thing of the past and the medics have got my infections more or less under control.

Anyway I was called into hospital earlier than intended because of an unusual infection that they wanted to treat intravenously before the procedure. I was then in hospital longer than anticipated whilst they made sure that I was clear when I left their care.

I arrived home on Lewis last weekend. I had left the heating to come on for a few hours each day to keep the house from getting too cold.  The house was very warm. I never turn the heating off completely. It's an old house and the main walls are solid and very thick. I never let them get completely cold and they act like an integral storage heater.  Somehow, though, it felt warmer than usual for being empty in the very cold weather.  I discovered that when the boiler was switched off by the control unit, it stayed on.  After a number of days and investigations the problem was solved and I have working heating. However I'm also now awating a new control system which will, hopefully, be more efficient.

My pond had almost emptied leaving very little water for the two sizeable carp who had disappeared into the depth of the remaining water and pondweed. I switched off the stream pump and re-filled the pond and it has stayed full so I have yet to discover why it had almost emptied in six days. There will, doubtless, be a logical and probably simple explanation but I have yet to expend the time and energy on the matter.

I won't bore you with the other irritations but needless to say they have been time-consuming and made me even less enthusiastic about leaving the Island again in the winter.

So, nearly a week since I arrived home, life is returning to normal which is busy without the hassle.

We had the Last of the Summer Wine Club Christmas Lunch on Wednesday. There are fewer of us each year. However it was excellent company (as one would expect) and I think we were all very satisfied by the food and service. We occupy the whole of the original lounge bar in the County Hotel (which hasn't altered one bit since we used to meet there for a drink on a Friday evening half a century ago!). It still has the wood panelling and the coal fire.

I'm Back (Again).

I left the Island 13 days ago. I returned on the later ferry last night, had some supper and went to bed just after midnight. I slept well and dreamt that I was growing a hitherto unknown lily. I was up at 6.30 this morning and have spent the day unpacking, washing and ironing and checking the garden and, indeed, spending about three hours working in the garden because it was a reasonably pleasant afternoon.

My cancer review and bone scan both went well and my spell in Ayr Hospital went equally successfully. 

Once again I have nothing but praise for the staff at every level who look after those of us who need their services.

The next few days are going to be busy whilst I catch up and the first of my Spring visitors arrives on Friday. 

However, in my usually optimistic way, I hope to get some time in Blogland and catch up. What remains of this afternoon will be spent answering letters and writing emails until the time will come for a glass of wine and dinner.

'Bye for now.

PS You might find this Facebook post for a local community-run shop and café on the other side of the Island quite amusing.

Travel Update

I was supposed to be home and on Tuesday.  Instead I ended up in the Royal Infirmary in Glasgow in agony. Problem solved and a couple of nights in hospital and I was released late yesterday afternoon after a wait for most of the day for my medication. 

On Monday I rang CALMAC to tell them that I would not be on the sailing on Tuesday evening and could I move to the Thursday evening sailing. No more room until the 2 August.  WHAT? If one lives on Lewis one cannot get back home for 7 days!  

The implications of that could be colossal for lots of people. It could be a serious problem for me because I have commitments as well as no clean clothes nor enough of my medication (the cancer medication is not generally available on prescription nor in any pharmacy) nor of my 'external plumbing' stuff.  Why did I chose this occasion to break the habit of a lifetime and travel light?

Apart from that a hotel or other accommodation in Scotland in the middle of the holidays is impossible or prohibitive anyway. 

My son is away on the mainland but I do have friends and neighbours who will look after watering the vegetables in the polycarb and garden, the birds and so on.    

What if I had a job to go to? As it is I have missed a funeral, medical appointments and a civic reception at which a friend of nearly half a century is to be awarded the Freedom of The Western Isles. In the greater scheme of things none of that matters.

What matters to me as I write this is at lunchtime on Thursday 27 July is that I just want to be home!

I'm about to drive up to Ullapool and try and get on the Freight ferry at 3am tomorrow. 

Please wish me luck. 

Hospital

Well this isn't going to plan. 

I left home on Sunday afternoon and few to Glasgow and then, given the parlous situation with trains and busses and the fact that I was supposed to be isolating as much as possible before going into hospital, I took a taxi to Ayr and stayed the night in the Ayrshire and Galloway Hotel. It was lovely to stay in a smallish non-concrete, glass and steel box hotel. The staff (yes there were staff) were exceptionally helpful and friendly and the food was excellent. I'll not hesitate to stay there again.

The hotel is unprepossessing and at the end of Ayr High Street which, like many other town centres has, unfortunately, passed its sell-by date.

I went for a walk along its length and got the impression that more that half of the properties were empty.

I came into hospital in Ayr on Monday morning with a view to getting my uretic stent changed and being home and back in harness on Tuesday evening.

I'm still in hospital. The operation went very well. It's always good to see a surgeon who's been working on you looking happy. Mr Meddings looked delighted. So was I. He's been my saviour over the last 5 years.

On Tuesday I started off feeling fine and then went downhill with my temperature going up and my blood pressure plummeting.  I slept for 10 hours Tuesday night and woke this morning still feeling less than great. My temperature was higher again and my BP lower this morning but as I write this I'm feeling a bit more chipper and hoping, once again, that everything will sort itself out and I'll be home tomorrow. At least I'm in a hospital and have a bed. The worst possible scenario would be to be discharged and then have to end up in an A & E in another hospital. 

The oddest thing about this hospital visit has been being on a mixed ward. I recall when they were mooted many moons ago in hospitals there was a huge uproar. Women wouldn't be able to cope with men in the same room in hospital circumstances. As it happens I'm the only man on this ward. No one batted an eyelid when I was wheeled in. There doesn't seem to be any fuss on any side.

The one thing I have discovered though is that men and women discuss completely different things on my small sample of mixed wards. Women don't talk about football. Men don't talk about their operations or procedures. Women, where they can, race for a shower in the morning. Men don't. Men and women are equally squeamish about having blood removed and needles stuck in them. Men keep asking when they can get out. Women don't. Women are very friendly on the ward and interact a lot (including with the man). Men tend to look for some common acquaintances or past connection with others in the ward and if there isn't one then then football takes over.

I'm feeling a lot better. Hopefully I'll be home tomorrow. 

A Wee Update

Life has been getting in the way of Blogland yet again. 

The Good Thing is that we have had five days of (mainly) sunny weather which has, about half the time, been free of the bitterly cold and strong wind that makes working outside in the garden a bit of a trial even when dressed up to the nines for the occasion.

It has meant that I have been getting up well before 7am and spending the vast amount of daylight in the garden and the polycarb doing hard labour. Well, that's the theory. When possible it's been the practice too. I would spend 12 hours a day in the garden if I could.

It has been helped by the fact that some of my social and other activities (like the gym) have had to be cancelled because I've been forbidden to drive until I've had an MRI scan to confirm that the incident that saw me ending up in hospital in the middle of the night, yet again, was labyrinthitis and not a TIA. 

Needless to say people have been very good and I've had lifts to town when needed.

I'm flying down to Glasgow this week for an MRI scan but it is looking uncertain as to whether I will get the hoped for resulting confirmation that I can drive in time to get down to Ayr for my delayed uretic stent replacement. This could mean another delay or very inconvenient travel arrangements on public transport.

C'est la vie.

I found some accidental potatoes left in the grounds when I emptied the potato grow bags from last spring/summer. 

Over the years I've shown some lovely sunrises from my kitchen window. This was yesterday's view 

Heart Attack Time

I've just read a post by Bob (as in Mr Brague who rhymes with plague) upon an incident he had and a reminder that we should all listen to our bodies. 

Assuming you have either already read or now popped over to his post you will see that I commented as follows:

"Unlike you, when I thought I was having a heart attack (same symptoms as yours and age 56) I immediately went to the nearest doctor (I was away from home at a trade fair). He pronounced me A1 after doing all the tests. To be continued..... "   I am continuing.

Later that evening after my friends and I had been for dinner we were walking back to the place we were renting for a few days. It was a very bitter, windy October evening in Aviemore in the coldest part of the Scottish Highlands. I was breathless and when I eventually made it back I asked them to get an ambulance.

It arrived as did the local doctor I'd seen that afternoon. The general assumption was that I'd had a heart attack. I was carted off to Inverness and spent the night having tests and so on. 

In the morning I was declared A1 fit for discharge with them being able to find no indication whatsoever of a heart attack. I was very surprised but happy. However as I had nowhere to go and no clothes and no one to collect me (they were all at the trade fair 30 miles away) I was shoved into a private sideroom until the next day. During that day I wandered up and down the three flights of stairs (with the permission of the doctor!) to the ground floor, had lunch in the café and generally amused myself.

That evening my friends brought in my clothes and agreed to collect me the next morning. Whilst they were there two doctors and three nurses entered and, very accusingly, asked why, at 11pm the previous evening, I had had an ECG. No one had ordered one. 

My response made it clear that it certainly wasn't me who had asked for it and they were the medics. Apparently no ECG had been ordered so far as anyone could find. However, you guessed it, it showed quite the opposite to everything previously done. I was to go back onto the observation ward that very moment and, no, the bed would go with me in it, I was not to move a muscle until the morning.

The next morning a consultant whom I hope I never meet again came in and  told me that I was being flown to Edinburgh for an angiogram and probably angioplasty. (See sub-story below).

Next day I was duly loaded into a helicopter ambulance and flown down to Glasgow. In those days angioplasty was a much bigger job than it is today where they pop a line up your arm and bob's your uncle. So I'm told by people who have had recent stent insertions.

I found myself in a huge theatre with two consultants and heaven knows how many support staff and a television set to my left showing an x-ray view of my heart and its surrounds. This had the advantage that the consultants could see into my body and work out where the stents were going and, for me, it stopped any potential boredom. It was a long afternoon! I won't bore you with the details although some were very amusing and some were a tad unpleasant. I had 5 stents inserted. The 6th just wouldn't play ball. 

The Sub Story

I didn't know anyone in Edinburgh and it's the diagonally opposite side of the country to Lewis. I know lots of people in Glasgow and life would have been so much easier in hospital there. The Consultant was not having any of it and dismissed my request for Glasgow 'if possible pretty please" with an "I send people to Edinburgh!" Behind him the Sister gave me a kindly smile and a wink. I knew I was in good hands.  The next morning she explained that, regretfully, she hadn't been able to find a bed in the Edinburgh Hospital so I was going down to the Glasgow Western Infirmary.  

Settling Back In

There's just me again Chez Moi. I was on the Mainland at a pal's and having hospital visits for nearly three weeks. I came back home over a week ago with my pal, Anna. She left on the 'plane earlier in the week. It's been a Good Time.

As is always the case, I've missed Blogland. I don't know how some people manage to blog profusely and still have a full 'real' life too. Perhaps I'm just a little slow of thought or perhaps I have too many other distractions.

Mind you when I was younger I managed on 5 hours sleep every night and now I need  considerably more. Old age doesn't come alone.

Modern technology doesn't necessarily help either. I have an electricity smart meter. When it was installed it was brilliant. I realised that by altering the settings on my bathroom underfloor heating I could save £1 a day without compromising my warmth when I wanted it. That alone was worth the meter. However, after a few months the smart meter ceased working and for the last 6 months I've been trying to persuade EDF to repair it. My contract ends next month. They have no way of reading my meter without sending someone out either to repair the connection or to send out a meter reader. I would have to go up a step ladder and being a frail old OAP I just am not going to do that (for them!). They have said they will repair it!

My garden has suffered from my absence too; not helped by the atrocious weather - gales and rain. 

On the plus side the medics have once again come up trumps and seem to have sorted my constant UTIs (and therefore my hosptiat visits with insipient sepsis). My cancer seems to be well under control. And (sorry Bob and the Grammar Brigade) thanks to the docs and physios my wayward and extrememly painful jaw and my shoulder (the latter of which has stopped me playing bowls even when Covid restrictions have allowed it) are both back functioning and almost pain-free. I played indoor bowls last night and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Hopefully I'll manage to think of some blog subjects and get back to reading blogs later. If I'm alone in the local community charity shop and it's quiet this afternoon that may be the start. Indeed, I could tell you about the charity shop.

Not At Home

I'm away from home. I came down to Glasgow and The Beatson for a review of the drugs trial from which I am benefitting. It's also been a very good opportunity to catch up with some of my friends down in this neck of the woods. I've been staying with Anna (whom I first met in New Zealand in 2006). 

I passed my 'service' and the car has had its service too and new rear tyres.

Tomorrow I shall drive to Penrith and meet my brother and sister-in-law. My sister-in-law will then hand over her husband into my care and I will return with him to Anna's. 

Monday should be a good day for visiting a couple of Glasgow's museums and art galleries.

On Tuesday we will return to Lewis.

The most fascinating thing this week has been a trip to the opera. Scottish Opera were doing an 'outdoor' and socially distanced performance of Verdi's Falstaff. Why, in heaven's name they chose the one opera which Verdi wrote that he definitely should have left unwritten, no-one knew. My speculation is that it was guaranteed an audience simply because everyone was grateful for the opportunity to get out to see and hear a performance again.

Home and Gardening

I am stiff this morning. Yesterday the weather changed and the rain and gales were superseded by full sun, light or no wind and bitter cold: perfect weather for doing so heavy work in the garden. So that was where I spent the day. I dug out some more cotoneaster roots to make way for wild flowers and Leucanthemums. I dug out Geraniums which had almost stopped flowering because they were busy fighting for dominance of that flower bed with the Astrantias. A lot of the Astratias have gone too. I also cleared a mass of Mombretia which had become unproductive through being overcrowded. The hundreds of Daffodils in beds around the garden spent a day trying to revive themselves from the gales but many were simply too far gone and a lot of the flowers had simply broken off.

I love Astrantia as individual flowers but when they get overcrowded they lose their individuality and their collective beauty is not great.

I've got a lot of seeds germinating in the polycarb and on the bathroom floor at night for those needing a constant warm temperature. The bathroom floor has underfloor heating but until now the last thing I've though of was using it to germinate seeds.

The pond is full of frogspawn but I've not seen a single frog this year which is unusual.

My trip away was successful. Well I assume it was but I've not had the result of my bone scan yet which is  unusual. I had my scans and the drugs trial review was okay and I have my drugs for the next 16 weeks until the next review.

What struck me most when I was away was the total lack of traffic on the main arterial route (the A9) through the Highlands from Perth to Inverness. In 50 years of travelling that road I've never seen it so empty.

Whilst I was away the Scottish Government changed the Covid level for the Islands from 4 to 3 so the day after I got back we were able to meet in a café (a maximum of 6 people from not more than 2 households).  So I've been having morning coffees in The Woodlands with friends instead of phone/video chats. Yesterday was an exception. It's back to The Woodlands this morning.

Catching Up

We've had some good weather. Well, when I say 'good' what I mean is that it wasn't raining and the wind was absent or a tolerable whisper instead of the usual eye-watering gale. In fact on a couple of days we had sun as well. So I've spent a couple of weeks in the garden. I've cut down bushes and spent hours removing the roots to make way for a wild flower bed. I trialled one last year and got lots of pleasure from the colour and the increased bee and insect population.

Many of the plants in the garden are Alpines and they are not in suitable conditions so I've dug out an area and am making a rockery of sorts with a more suitable growing medium.

I have also been moving lots of tubs of daffodils and tulips as well as humping 100litre bags of garden compost etc around.

One thing all this has taught me is that I'm not as young as I was this time last year. Then I could actually pick up 100l bag of compost and put it in the wheelbarrow. This year I struggled. So now I'm planning the garden on the basis that there will come a time (if it hasn't already come) when I have to ensure that things are done in such a way that it minimises lifting large, heavy things.

At 0500 yesterday morning my body sprung (well as springy as my body does anything these days) into action and I set off to be on board MV Loch Seaforth for the exciting journey to Ullapool from whence I would drive to Glasgow for my 16-weekly three days of scans and my drugs trial review.

The main arterial road through the Scottish Highlands from Inverness to Perth and thence towards Glasgow is the A9. As you can imagine it is a very busy road carrying most of the freight to and from the North of Scotland.  However most of it is still 2 lane with occasional 4 lane dual carriageway. I have been travelling up and down it for nearly half a century. I think that I can safely say that I have never seen it as quiet as it was yesterday. It is a road controlled by average speed cameras so people rarely speed on it. Heavy goods vehicles, however, have a speed limit 10 miles an hour less than cars and one often gets stuck behind them until the next dual carriageway or overtaking lane. Not so yesterday.  

There are no toilet facilities open anywhere in Scotland so I made no 'comfort stops' either.

As a result I was in Bishopbriggs in a record time of about 4¼ hours after leaving the ferry in Ullapool.

Today has been shopping day for all the messages I've been asked to get for people marooned on the Island plus, I have to say, some odds and ends for myself.

The next few days will be spent having scans and my drugs trial review. Hopefully. I'll be home on Thursday evening.

Monday Miscellany

Well last week was, from the point of view of Blogland, a complete write-off.  On Tuesday I was up before 0500. I got the early ferry from Stornoway to Ullapool and at about 0945 set off on the 270 mile drive to Ayr. As I'd come out of quarantine it was a question of go straight there without passing Go and without collecting £200 (I hated Monopoly but still use Monopoly analogies). 

I arrived at the Hospital and was immediately tested for Covid-19. I passed - negative.

Next day I had the kidney stent replaced. Unfortunately the fact that it was around 7 months overdue meant that the surgeon had a rather difficult time extracting a stone from some passage or other and the work proved a little sore for a day or two and it took a few days for the infection I'd had for the last few months to be conquered. Anyway by Saturday all was back to normal and I was released into the big wide world once more. I stayed overnight with a friend because I couldn't get a ferry until the Sunday evening on which, fortuitously, I was already booked. 

So today has been sort out and try and get back to normal day. 

The ferry on the way over was awash with barking dogs. What is it with people who can't control their dog? If you can't control your dog and stop it barking at every passing shadow then don't bring it on public transport (or muzzle it)! It's bad enough having a massive mountain dog 100 yards away at home that barks constantly but at least I can close the windows and go into the other side of the house. I detest barking dogs - in case you hadn't noticed. Rant over.

Social distancing on the ferry is very good and, unless eating or drinking their coffee masks are the order of the day. However a chap walked past me (duly masked) a few metres away and as he did so a massive wave of tobacco smoke from his clothes followed him. Apart from the distinct unpleasantness, it occurred to me that the aerosols that contain the smell are presumably the same ones that can contain the Covid-19 virus. Food for rather unpleasant thought. 

On a lighter note one of the chaps in the hospital had been feeding his neighbour's two dogs for a couple of days. He let them out into the garden (their back gardens were adjacent and could be accessed without going through the house) several times a day and fed them too. He was puzzled after the first night as to why one dog came out and then after eating and doing what it had to do went in and the other one came out. After this ritual had been repeated for the whole weekend he went in to see what was happening in the house. He followed the second dog into the house and it immediately went upstairs (they usually lived downstairs). He followed and found a chap on top of the wardrobe with the dog standing guard. It turned out that the chap was in fact a burglar and when he broke in on the Friday evening the dogs had chased him upstairs and he's been on top of the wardrobe all weekend with one or both of the dogs on guard! Yuk. The chap next door is a police dog handler/trainer.

Where's Schrödinger’s Cat?

In the 5 months up to the beginning of August I had used the car for a handful of miles - principally for medical visits in Stornoway. In the last three weeks I have driven around 1500 miles including two round trips to Glasgow. In the next three weeks I will make another two trips to Glasgow and Ayr to have my two pre-op appointments and my kidney stent replaced. In between I will have to isolate for 14 days at home on Lewis. I've gone from the peace and quiet of lockdown with no deadlines to meet or appointments to keep to a hectic 'up at 4am to catch the morning ferry' lifestyle again. I know which I prefer....and it isn't the latter.

So my recent visits to Blogland have been few and far between and my life is the poorer for that.

However I did visit Bob's post "I wish they would tackle world peace instead." which, as the title might not readily suggest, was partly about the Schrödinger’s Cat Paradox. 

I have, on several occasions, with Wendy (of my New Zealand Family) sat up into the wee smae hours with a bottle or two of New Zealand's finest red discussing the topic. So the post made me sit up and take notice. The first thing I did was go to a particular place on my bookshelves for the book entitled "Schrödinger’s Cat" or something containing those two words anyway.

To my puzzlement it wasn't there. A search of the rest of the bookshelves and the shelves in the loft all drew a blank. I'm not going to pretend that the loss of the book about Schrödinger’s Cat Paradox is going to change my life.  However the fact that a book, any book, is missing from its proper place is disturbing. What next?

Disruption

I dislike disruption. I suppose that we all do. Midday Saturday and I'd just finished having coffee with a friend at The Woodlands. I'd been right as rain and twice as wet as the saying goes. I stood up and immediately felt the early signs of an onset of sepsis. I've had it so many times now that I'm pretty well attuned to the symptoms. It's just become part of normal life but it is disruptive because there is absolutely no knowing when it will strike. Anyway the Nurse Practitioner and Member of the Society of Master Bumjabbers had given me antibiotics to take should I be unable to get to an A & E (Emergency Room) in reasonable time. So I decided to try and stave it off at the pass and within half an hour of the onset I had taken my first tablet. 

I had friends coming for dinner for the Final of Strictly Come Dancing (good result but I did so want Anton and Emma to win) so decided to see how it went and rely on the oral antibiotics. The meal was already in the slow cooker (Moroccan Lamb if you're interested) so I went and had a sleep. I woke feeling quite reasonable so decided against A & E.

At 1.40 am I woke with rigours which were so bad I actually had difficulty phoning for an ambulance. Hospital. The usual cocktail of intravenous antibiotics. Brilliant care and attention (thank you once again NHS) and last night I was home again. Wabbit but well.

The disruption? Ah yes. Sunday had been allocated to getting my UK cards done. Monday was the day for icing the 5 Christmas cakes I still have to ice.

So now, after a fabulous and solid sleep, I'm playing catch-up. 

But first I have some Thank You notes to deliver.

Hopefully I'll get some blogs read this evening.

Life - An Update

I'm now out of hospital and getting some R and R before my scans and cancer review next week.

Before I respond to the comments on my last couple of posts (and I hope you will forgive me if I give general comments and just answer specific ones where a specific point has been made) I just want to update you and show you a few of the things that have amused me and kept me going over the last week or so.

Several post-cards from my brother, CJ/Scriptor Senex:

Although, as CJ pointed out, this is an unrealistic representation of life - libraries no longer have books and pigs trotters cannot manage the keystrokes (although he supposed that they could have asked the librarian volunteer member of the public behind the counter.

The cartoon arrived in one of the messages I received although I can't recall who sent it - sorry. I think it encompasses so very much my philosophy of life and is an important part of playing The Glad Game. Anyway it's Saturday, the weather here near Glasgow is wet, breezy and very uninviting.  I have little doubt that we shall venture out at some stage but for the moment I shall visit Blogland and write good old snail mail letters: I have a lot of people to thank for helping me through the last 10 days.

 

You Should see The Other Bloke

A couple of months ago I was diagnosed with a carcinoma on my nose and a melanoma or two on my forehead.  This morning the consultant surgeon who removed the squamous carcinoma on my neck four years ago removed the nose lump and grafted skin from my neck to repair the hole.  The amount of damage on my forehead was such that she removed various bits so that they could be sent to the pathologist for analysis. 

I have to say that the whole operation was quite amazing. I had read some while ago that the anaesthetising of the nose was a deeply unpleasant experience so, whilst I wasn't concerned about the operations themselves, I was dreading the anaesthetic. As it was there was less discomfort from that than from the average taking of blood from one's arm and, as you will know, that is a pretty okay event.  So all in all there was no pain or discomfort and I haven't even had to take a paracetamol since the anaesthetic wore off. 

The nursing care was a mixture of efficient professionalism, comforting reassurance and light-hearted banter helped by the fact that one of the nurses had looked after me when I had my first bout of sepsis. 

My plans to go South and stay with my brother and sister-in-law have been thrown into the dustbin because my stitches will not come out for two weeks by which time it will almost be time for my Cancer Trial Review in Glasgow.  So I have re-scheduled the visit to October when, hopefully, there will be no obstacles to a relaxing time away.

Anyway the Good News is that I've been told not to undertake any strenuous work for the next week or two. Seems a bit unnecessary to me but I'm not going to argue. Hopefully I will be spending more time sorting my photos and catching up in Blogland.

Twelve Months On

I cannot believe that it was twelve months ago today that I received the phone call from a surgeon at  Ayr Hospital telling me that I had a kidney stone blocking the exit to my right kidney and that he wanted me to return to hospital immediately (fortunately I was in Glasgow an hour's drive away) and have the stone removed.

Since then I've had 10 hospital admissions related to problems caused by the kidney stone (including four admissions related to sepsis). Of course it's not as simple as that because most of the problems have arisen because of damage caused by radiotherapy in 2009.

Add to that all the hospital visits relating to the cancer treatment and the Drugs Trial I'm on and I must have spent a decent part of the last year at medical appointments of one sort or another.

Anyway my hospital visits, per se, is not really the point of this post because, despite all the hospital etc visits, I feel as fit and healthy as any person my age and am able to live a very full and active life. For this I never cease to be thankful.

At a time of criticism of the NHS I just want, for the umpteenth time, to sing its praises and, of course, praise the wonderful people who work in it.

My pal Anna was up from Bishopbriggs for a few days and we had (as always) a very enjoyable time. As it happens the weather on two out of the three days were also glorious so we went for a walk in the Castle Grounds. It was Saturday morning and all the mountain bikers, walkers and even some less usual modes of transport were out and about. We had a gentle 3 mile walk and it was glorious.

 

At home the garden is well past its summer best but there is still quite a bit of colour in the Crocosmia, Mombretia (the original or naturalised Crocosmia) Japanese Anenomes, Livingstone Daisies and the Lavatera.

Er, Pardon?

I'm not sure how many posts I've started over the last however many days since the last post. I never managed to finish any of them. However I'm now back home from my 'three days away'. And therein lies the tale and (with apologies to John Steinbeck) the fact that the best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley.

I've learned one thing, though: never travel light. I always take the kitchen sink: two if available. Twelve days ago on the Monday when I left on the ferry I knew that I would be back after my pre-op check on the Tuesday and a service for the Volvo. Apart from anything else my accommodation was only available for a few nights. So I travelled very light (by my standards).

At the pre-op the nurse practitioner said that the consultant surgeon wanted to see me.  He did and we had a chat. He then casually said "Right. I'll see you on Monday." Er, pardon? 

Apparently when the pre-op had been moved because of my visitors the operation had not but the letter hadn't arrived before I left home. 

The ferry was fully booked and I couldn't get back to Glasgow if I returned home. So I had to find alternative accommodation and get additional 'supplies'. Fortunately I do keep some necessities and clothes at my friend, Anna's.

So on Sunday night I found myself, once more, in Ayr Hospital and on Monday I had my kidney stent renewed and some radio therapy damage tidied up again. I was out on Tuesday and home on Wednesday night. Yesterday I was shattered despite a good night's sleep but by this morning after 8½ hours without moving a muscle I was alive again.

I've no plans to be away from the Island again until September so, hopefully, I'll be back in Blogland and catching up with what has been happening in my absence.

Brief Encounter

It seems like a month since I spent a weekend in Glasgow 7 days ago. Since then my son has been home from Jakarta, been to Italy, got a new job and I took him to the plane this morning for his trip back to Italy where he will be working on a new-build super-yacht for the next year.

I have visitors whom I met through blogging and whom I feel I've known for ever we are all so comfortable together.

On their first night staying with me I was carted away to hospital at 2am by a couple of paramedics in an emergency ambulance. It must be very strange getting up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet to be met by a paramedic in the hall. However they took it in their stride and coped for the next day and night until I was deemed fit to be returned to life on the outside of a hospital. The irony is that I actually felt very well despite the fact that a kidney had closed down and my blood pressure had gone through the metaphorical roof. 

Anyway I was released on Sunday morning in time to prepare dinner for five that evening.

So that's why I've been absent from Blogland for a few days.

Talking of my trip to Glasgow, Anna came part of the way home with me (the first 70 miles) to Dunkeld where we had breakfast and then she got the train back to Glasgow to go to a luncheon.

She caught the 1033 train from Dunkeld station.

Hopefully normal service is resumed again.