This blog is not for the faint-hearted. Those of a nervous disposition are advised to turn away now.......
There is nothing quite so joyous as the gestation and safe delivery of a solid, tawny, stool - still less a series, after a debilitating week of d and v. It/they appeared early this morning, while most of you were mercifully, sound asleep - the deserved and desired product, no doubt, of the cutting out of some drugs from the regimen I've been taking. Di had been researching side-effects and the spotlight had fallen on ferrous sulphate ( taken because I was anaemic after blood loss during the operation) and tramadol (a painkiller) so we'd excluded both over the previous couple of days.
Pharmaceutical replacements were already in the pipeline however because as if d and v were not enough, I'd also experienced an onset of obsessive itching that has left much of my skin looking like an aerial view of the surface of Mars. So you drop a couple of drugs here, you take on a few more there - anti-emetic tabs, anti-histamine tabs and skin lotion. The kitchen work-surface looks like an illicit pharmacy. Come round for a meal and who knows what ingredients will be on the menu?
But returning, as I must, to the subject of my stools, they now hold the promise of the onset of a new phase in my recovery. The wound is healing and the 'cling film' covering it is beginning to peel away. (If interested, for a small fee, there are pictures, taken by an indecently-enthusiastic Diana). The remaining bruising is much less psychedelic though it is also difficult to escape the sense that the left side of my chest has been encased in a steel clamp. I practise deep breathing in order to stretch the wound; the skin, muscle, tissue.
Unfortunately the neurological problem with my left leg continues to make it difficult to sit comfortably for any length of time.
Finally a mea culpa; over the last few days I have been guilty of some severe bouts of 'feeling sorry for myself' and must apologise to anyone who feels they have been a victim. As ever the star award goes to Diana for disdainful dismissal of my morose comment when boxes of the prepared nutrient meal appeared; 'God, I know death must be near when Complan is in the house'.
Hi Rod. I met Phil in the Plough and he told me you were unwell; having read your blog i can't help feeling he underscored it.
ReplyDeleteI cant even begin to imagine what you are going through. I am still living in the BC life where the safety rail is in place and i have the luxury of obsessing on what can be described as ordinary stuff. Or largely feckless and unimportant if you were really honest!
Your blog is brilliant because you manage to write with insight into so much more than your Illness and suffering. I love the way it has developed over the year and i pray that one of the many rehearsals you have before seeing a consultant actually materialises. Either that or the green tea turns out to be all you hoped it would be! There are many things i could say but the truth is they would not be worth much at the side of what you have already said. I wish you, Di and your family extract as much happiness as you can from the current life you are living and i really hope i am still reading your Blog in a few years time!