The Wilkie curse has struck again! On examining the scar on my face I have realised that the surgeon has taken the wrong mole off my face. Looking at the scar I couldn’t understand why it was so low and then I realised that she had taken off another mole which was lower down. Another legend to relate to the grand children!
One of my nurses has been off work with a bad back. She limped out of our house and we didn’t see her for a week. She is now back at work and I am now going to have my bum dressed twice a week. It won’t be long before they stop coming.
My G.P. keeps writing to me – I think she must be lonely! They have brought my diabetic review forward from April to now and now I have a letter for a flu jab.
Thursday 11th Feb and I get up late. I ask Irene if she is losing her grip because I have a fasting blood test for my diabetic review. My appointment is for 9.45 but she has looked at Jonathan’s which is 10.15. I always take the mick out of Irene because she insists on being hours early for everything whereas I am always on “Wilkie time” which is just in time or even late.
Tom-ass is being a swine. Yesterday morning and I awoke to find he had started to push his bag off. I cleaned up the mess and changed my bag. My poo is sticking at the stoma exit – pancaking as they call it in the trade. The solution is to wipe some cooking oil around the hole where the stoma sits with the bag over it so the poo won’t stick. Last night I had to change the bag because it had started to come unstuck again.
Anyway this morning the bag was ready to come off again so I couldn’t leave it before my blood test. There was another gooey mess to clean up before I could go for my test. This is happening to a man who used to go daily pre-operation to someone who had major problems with once a week. I wish it would make its mind up. I will be glad when I can get on to irrigation and regain some control.
It was one of those crisp winter’s days that everyone waxes so lyrical about. There was a dusting of snow and all was white. The sun was shining and the car windscreen was solid. The wind was bitter. Anyone who says that a day like that is lovely wants certifying! I hate the cold and the winter and could happily hibernate until March. Irene says I do anyway!
Blood test done, along with my depositing a bottle of my valuable bodily fluids in the box – first of the morning mid-stream sample – all contributions gratefully received - and I made my way home for breakfast. In another life I would have gone into the Hot Bread shop and got a large sausage and bacon cob after my fasting ordeal but now it’s back for some Weetabix or bite size Shreddies. Oh how the mighty have fallen. My blood test must be pristine!
When I got back home I felt pretty good – it must have been all that blood letting so I checked my emails and started to tidy up. I have got a cross trainer which I call my Paul O’Grady – cross trainer – cross dresser – geddit? Well maybe not. Irene calls it the most expensive clothes hanger in the world! Well the Paul O’Grady is buried under a lot of clutter and my intention (the road to hell is paved with good intentions) is to get back into training. The last time I got on to the cross trainer I managed to get up to eight minutes when it took eighteen minutes to do a fitness test. So that’s the plan if my bum will let me.
Then I had to take Irene down to the doctor’s surgery to get her twenty four hour blood pressure monitor taken off. She has had a couple of high readings and the doctor wants to make sure that she hasn’t got high blood pressure.
We stop off at the CO-OP and there is a big Valentine’s card display and I tell Irene to go and pick one to cut out the middle man. I never realised that she had lost her sense of humour!
