Post 483: Visitors arrive after a positive weigh-in… oops!
Without Big Sis to look forward to until tomorrow, I had a clear day to do whatever I liked.
But I wasn’t off to a particularly good start.
The weigh-in was a bit of a shock.
Another four pounds had gone on.
I’m now 12 stone 4 lbs.
It’s not a big problem, but it does mean I’ve put on a stone and a half in two months.
Oops!
The other statistic I’m finding a bit crazy is my oxygen level.
I’ve only been checking it because of the breathlessness I’ve had lately.
Yesterday it was worse, at 92 or 93, but today it was back up to 94 or 95 and I wasn’t gasping quite so much.
So I can rest a little easier.
But I’ll keep checking it.
I’ve been breathless recently and, although it’s only a minor thing, it’s become more noticeable.
That’s why I’ve been checking it with the little oximeter on my finger.
I didn’t really worry about it until my Darling found out I was using the machine.
She asked why.
When I told her it was reading 92 or 93, she kept on at me and tested and retested it to see if I was joking.
I wasn’t.
She was instantly worried.
She gave me the once-over and said I should contact my GP.
I wasn’t particularly bothered by the reasons she gave me for ringing the surgery, but I had my reservations.
In the end I caved in and used the trusty online service.
After answering a few questions, it automatically came back with a new instruction:
Ring 999.
That shocked me, obviously.
But ringing 999 wasn’t on my agenda.
Not yet.
I decided to keep a watchful eye on my oxygen level for the rest of the day.
Thankfully, it came back up to 95, the threat of an emergency had diminished and both of us were happier.
I’ll keep a daily watch on the news from my fingers, which will give me more information to pass on to my doctor next time I see them.
I will contact my GP if it goes low again while I’m breathless, or if I develop any chest pain, which luckily I haven’t had.
So I’m relaxed about it now.
It’s 94 as I write this, without any breathlessness.
That’s enough of that.
My Darling was driving herself into town with her mates for the weigh-in, followed by coffee and lunch, so I decided to strip the bed and wash all the bedding on one of the hottest days of the year.
This heat has been amazing.
It’s broken records and I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I love it.
We had our eldest and his wife coming to stay with us for two nights before they head back home to Wigton in Cumbria, where the air is considerably cooler and their cat, Shadow, awaits them.
They didn’t finish work in Bexhill until five, so the bed sheets were washed, dried and put away before they arrived.
Then came the sweaty hugs, ice creams and pedestal fans.
They caught us up with all the recent goings-on, especially his garden, which sits on a mixture of stone and tarmac in his yard.
There are potted plants surrounding a small, still pond and somehow the whole effect is incredibly relaxing.
We ordered a takeaway and enjoyed a Turkish.
Chilli sauce for me, obviously.
We chatted until the plates were completely cleaned, and eventually the cooler air began gently moving around the houses.
As the light faded enough, the bats came out to play.
Oh, what a night.
The plans for tomorrow were finalised and, with that, we headed towards bed.
Unfortunately, the temperature upstairs was still absolutely stifling.
There’ll be little sleep tonight if that hot air continues to fill the bedrooms.
We gave a fan to our guests and hope that will ease the pain of the heat.
A balmy night in southern England doesn’t suit everyone.
But I like it.
It’s all too soon gone.
Take care.
Sleep well, if you can.
