Post 501: Thank you for your kind words of support.
With an outpouring yesterday that came from nowhere, it is comforting to know someone’s there.
At times there’s a fear that nobody’s there and, lo and behold, there’s a load of replies to my angst that helps me through the day.
Thank you very much for your replies.
I treasure them and appreciate the time you’ve been reading my blog.
The dentist and the acid infusion
I had to go to the dentist today and give him a letter that will allow him to accept — or not — that I’m fit for the acid infusion.
Which I am.
The infusion is still something I’d rather not have if it’s going to give me side effects, but if it helps my bones recover a little from the cancer burning up the good calcium and bone, then I suppose it’s worth doing.
The dentist couldn’t find anything wrong, so after he writes the letter I’ll be booked in for it at the far-away hospital.
Getting to town wasn’t much fun
I had to use my classic Mini today because my Darling was at work and using her car, so it was the little red-and-black motor that bounced and bumped its way down to town.
The other problem was getting in and out of the driver’s seat.
Oh my goodness.
It’s becoming an increasing problem as time goes on, although initially it’s OK.
I’m growing shorter each year, but I started at 6 foot in the past.
So putting that together with big feet and bigger shoes, there’s always a problem getting in and out of the Mini.
Today was no exception.
After all the digital paperwork at the dentist, explaining the letter and having a long check-up, I got my six-monthly check-ups booked and went on my way.
I then headed to the other side of town to pick up some new toothpaste I’d been given a prescription for.
It’s got more fluoride in the paste and could do me good.
Or that’s the theory.
So I pulled up in a wide bay at the car park of choice and squeezed out of my small car.
And promptly pulled a muscle in my back while exiting the seat.
A quick rub didn’t make it any better, but it was a good thought.
More tablets
I headed into the pharmacy to get the new toothpaste and the remainder of the steroids needed for the trial I’m on.
The waning of the steroids has now been dropped to half a tablet for a month, to try and keep me with something in me rather than stopping them completely.
This weekend I get to use the wee tablets I picked up today.
The glasses
While I was in town, I chose to have my glasses opened slightly to allow a little movement instead of having the glasses pinned onto me without any movement at all.
The opticians were happy to help and did the job perfectly.
And now I’m left thinking that the optical problem I’m having with my right eye could be part of the cause of my depression.
Maybe.
I don’t really know.
I think one of the problems is that I’m falling apart.
The eyes especially are a problem.
The right eye, in fact.
Is it a cataract starting to grow?
Is it diabetes?
I don’t know.
All I know is that it’s annoying me and not making things any better, even though I have three new pairs of specks.
A full body check
The blood test will check for the HbA1c numbers in a couple of weeks, with a check-up afterwards.
The blood pressure, weight and height will also be checked too.
A full-body check.
A mark in the sand.
Belt and braces.
We’ll see later how I fare with all these tests over the next four weeks.
And perhaps knowing what is going on with the eye will take one little worry off the pile.
And the head bit
I’ve been thinking about yesterday and the way I suddenly fell apart a bit emotionally.
It still feels strange because I don’t really know where it came from.
One minute I’m getting on with things and the next I’m crying.
There are plenty of things in my life at the moment that could contribute to feeling low, but I don’t want to start giving everything a name when I’m not sure what the problem actually is.
Maybe it’s the eye.
Maybe it’s the cancer.
Maybe it’s the breathing.
Maybe it’s the pain, the medication, the endless appointments or just the sheer bloody business of it all.
Maybe it’s a mixture of everything.
I suppose the sensible thing is to tell the doctor and let him have a look at the whole picture.
I don’t need to understand it before I ask for a bit of help.
And perhaps, if nothing else, saying it out loud might make it feel a little less enormous.
Amsterdam and radiotherapy
Our daughter-in-law is off with our eldest to Amsterdam for a few days’ trip for a 30th birthday celebration, prior to the start of radiotherapy on the lymphoma in her leg.
They’ll have a great time and it will be a good distraction from all the medical planning she’s needed to do lately.
A few days of being somewhere else, doing something normal, eating nice food and celebrating a birthday sounds like a pretty good idea to me.
As for my Darling…
She took off to her doctor to ask for a cardiovascular check-up due to the underlying health issues that are genetic in her family.
She’s one of 15 kids, and most have already had some kind of heart disease.
So this is prudence after a good bit of anxiety recently, due to her siblings showing signs of heart issues.
She came back happy to be listened to, with a whole load of tests being done and booked in for later, to help her understand her own body.
We will await more tests and results soon, and hope all’s fine.
The back behaved itself eventually
My back was rested for the rest of the day in the chair, looking at the TV.
Thankfully, I was much better by the end of the day.
So that’s it.
A dentist who says I’m fit for the infusion.
A prescription for fancy toothpaste.
Some more wee steroid tablets.
Three pairs of specks.
A dodgy right eye.
A sore back.
A full-body check coming up.
And a Darling who is getting herself checked out too.
Oh, and all those lovely replies yesterday.
They mattered.
More than you probably realise.
So thank you for coming along for the ride and for being patient and loving.
It’s nice to know that when I wobble a bit, there are people out there who are willing to steady me.
Take care.
