The Old Familiars Return

And suddenly the old familiars return; I can’t say that they’re particularly welcome but, they do offer a distraction from more recent discomforting visitors. Just as I’d started to relax, after a few hours (as part of the last few days recurrence) suffering from problems with digestive system, gall-bladder, reflux and diverticular disease related problems, the old griping lymph nodes in the armpits, pains in wrists and elbows, returned to the fore. Having strapped up wrists and elbows, upper arms were held tightly against the torso, forearms behind the back with hands tightly clasped, in a partially successful attempt to alleviate the nausea inducing armpit discomfort.

Indigestion pains had become more disturbing as they induced sharp pains in the left hand side of the chest, evidently emanating from a renewed bout of costochondritis; frequent applications of ibuprofen gel to the rib cage seem to be alleviating that condition. In an attempt to alleviate the abdominal discomfort the doctor has switched me from lansoprazole to ranitidine 150mg twice per day. No doubt it will take a little while before any results are noticeable.

On top of these frustrations, my right knee (from which pain was alleviated as a result of an arthroscopy a couple of years back) has started grating again as I walk.  To be honest though, the recent, and current cold spell does tend to exacerbate any rheumatic / arthritic symptoms.

One could say that it’s all happening, at the moment, within my bodily being; even the dreaded post-nasal drip has returned and isn’t responding to the nasal spray. Oh the joys of living and the pleasures of old age. I’m afraid that those closest to me, primarily my beloved OH, are always on the receiving end of my tetchiness induced anger. On top of this my beloved is getting more tired as she awaits a heart valve replacement op. I realize that it has become pretty well a routine procedure these days but, I still can’t help feeling a little anxiety about the whole situation.

I do realize this post makes me seem like a real moaning Minnie but it will have to suffice until I receive, if ever, ample stamina to get back into a more regular blogging routine. Much of the time I’m able to enjoy a wide range of music listening (via CD, radio and online) and quite a lot of movie watching (via DVD and TV broadcast/ catch-up services) so, perhaps I should express a more positive message. I’m even able to take the dog for his short evening walk, with only a few health-imposed abstentions.

I don’t suppose getting older helps my general condition, albeit I’m only well into my 75^th year on planet Earth, but my emotional responses and attitudes seem to always be at odds with my chronological age, It seems like my intellectual and emotional life are still quite youthful; well, perhaps still back in my early thirties. If only my physical frame could take that leap back!

PS the use of the term familiars at the head of this post has just made me think of the witches black cat etc; if only I could cast a spell. Meanwhile the prayers of others will have to suffice.

On the Opening and Closing of Doors

ON THE OPENING & CLOSING OF DOORS

Well, life has certainly been eventful, and frustrating, since my fall (http://sinnaluvva.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/a-fall-becomes-set-back-and-shaggy-dog.html & http://sinnaluvva.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/gratitude-for-nhs.html) but, nothing really much in any way I could regard as positive. Because my PPI (omeprazole) was not compatible with the clopidogrel, the GP switched my prescription back to lansoprazole; I had taken lansoprazole for a number of years and had discovered the most effective dosage was 30mg twice per day, morning and evening. It, therefore, came as something of a surprise to find that I had only been prescribed 15mg once per day.

The new medication regime began on the 19^th September but, so painful and discomforting had my GORD and IBS symptoms become, that by the 27^th September it became essential for me to have an emergency appointment at my GP surgery. The appointment was with a nurse practitioner who duly increased my dosage to 30mg once per day.  Even with this dosage, I still had to resort to a strong antacid each evening.

Meanwhile, I was twice proffered an earlier appointment (in a saga which began a few months back) with the surgeon to discuss removal of my gall bladder but, I automatically declined as I now needed to get into a pattern with the amlodipine & clopidogrel and, I realized that if an operation was to take place I would need to be off the clopidogrel for around one week.

By way of diversion, we have an additional resident chez nous. Beth, the eldest of my two step-daughters, was discharged from hospital in York on 10^th October following a bicycle accident on the 3^rd. She has a fracture in the neck of her humerus, necessitating immobilizing of her right arm and plates in her jaw at the sites of two of her three jaw fractures. This latter condition means that she is only able to manage soft / pureed food. My beloved OH has to help her both to dress and to bathe / shower.

Eventually the pre-arranged appointment, on the 23^rd October arrived and ma belle chauffeuse accompanied me to the clinic at the District Hospital. The doctor soon explained to me that as I had recently had a stroke, albeit a minor one, she would be unable to carry out the operation as the anaesthetic required could trigger a further more severe stroke and, although I could apply for referral after six months of reasonably good health, she personally didn’t seem much in favour of this, as she felt there would still be the risk of a more major stroke. When my beloved asked the surgeon what should happen if I had a further infection of the gall bladder, she suggested that antibiotics, albeit with the possibility of increased antibiotic resistance, were much preferable to a risk of paralysis. She was of course aware of my family history [my mother suffered a major stroke within seven days of experiencing a TIA – spending her remaining years with total paralysis of one side of her body – when she was of an age only marginally advanced from my current state of being].

Whilst I was somewhat relieved that the doctor hadn’t pussyfooted about the rather stark options, it did seem to emphasize the whole mortality issue as, later in the day, I began to feel a sense of desolation regarding an apparent futility of existence. I wondered, for a while, if I was reverting to a state of depression! In the clear light of a new day, chronic illness notwithstanding, I was so blessed with a loving wife and family, a catholic taste and enjoyment of various musical genres, literature, fine arts, and a faith that never lets go of me even when belief has evaporated.

from the frontline

Sometimes it’s difficult, if not impossible, to describe the exhausting ache of self-questioning, veering towards a sense of guilt for being ill and hence, a burden or embarrassment to those who you really care about. I must be honest that even this preludium to a post doesn’t really express the underlying frustration that prompts it; at root, the knowledge that even the best of days carries a stamina rating of perhaps 20 - 30% of my pre-illness norm.

 

What I was really wanting to say is that the relative paucity of postings, arising from a desire to communicate (with and for whom I know not), bears little distinct correlation to my present levels of pain, discomfort, joy or plain normality. There are times when I wish to write but simply lack the necessary energy to place the written words in any meaningful order; at other times I am positively glowing with the enjoyment of spending time with my beloved, excited by the variety of avian visitors to our sundry garden feeding stations, or even the refreshing joy of a brief brisk venture out into the bracing air, can fill me with such glorious images which, were I to write them down, would sound like an overblown description of some utopian paradise.

 

An evening cocktail of tramadol and amitriptylene tends to curb the night pains, even though sleep is invariably of a restlessly intermittent unrefreshing variety. In the morning I continue to take a low dose of sertraline which seems to control the reactive depression which this disease can so frequently carry in it’s wake. Currently I am also taking mebeverine (3 x daily) and lansoprazole (2 x daily) in an attempt to ease my IBS and gastro-oesophageal reflux problems.

 

I am extremely fortunate to experience a fair number of days where pains and muscular spasms are quite simply a faint background hum, futilely struggling against my enjoyment of the day. Unfortunately, at night, as my body strives for rest the fitful pattern of sleep leaves one more vulnerable to these pernicious nauseating pains and spasms.

 

This afternoon, my far too familiar nausea-inducing nagging pains, emanating from the armpit and apparently gnawing through bone and muscle down through biceps to wrist, vengefully returned. A combination of painkillers and splint type wrist supports eventually alleviated this as I rested on the sofa. And so I come to post this, in the hope that at least some of my words convey their intended meaning.

 

Communique ends.

same old pains regaining confidence

A plan to wait for an upturn in my state of wellbeing, before writing another blog post, has had to be withdrawn from my agenda.

 

*****************

 

Apart from the griping gut churning abdominal spasms, a combination of regular IBS and diverticular problems, there always seems to be something extra to grab the focus of my attention. Flatulence and dyspepsia are so commonplace as to go unremarked; I only wish I could ignore the gastro-oesophageal reflux!

 

I still seem to be undergoing some kind of relapse, intensifying over the past few days, as acute chest, joint and muscle pains, tenderness in armpits and under jaw, join forces with the above mentioned ailments. A recently refreshed collusion between GORD and post nasal drip seems to further conspire against any hoped for sense of well-being.

 

Mid to late afternoon, almost as a matter of routine, that grinding nausea inducing hollow ache in the armpits sets in. On a good day, ten minutes sat with my arms pressed tight against my back alleviates the ache, to some extent; on most occasions it’s also accompanied by aching pains in elbows and/or wrists. Sometimes supports applied to wrists and elbows bring the necessary relief but, increasingly, I find that I need to resort to some strong painkillers.

 

Although I rarely spend less than twelve hours (night & morning) abed, I increasingly have to resort to an hour or more lying down in the course of the day, the need usually prompted by aching limbs and an unsettling aching giddy light-headedness.

and a little relief

As the week went on, my body cried out for an increasing amount of attention. Alongside the all too familiar muscular aches and spasms in upper and lower limbs, the spasms in the calves now accompanied by random painful twinges in the thigh muscles, my GORD (reflux) symptoms seemed to flare up once again, in spite of having resumed the double dose of ppi's.

A totally aching shattered tiredness has frequently caught me unawares mid-evening, my minimum twelve hours bed-rest per day (apparently) not serving to alleviate this excruciating fatigue in any way. At times, whilst (relatively) comfortably seated, a floating giddy headedness accompanied by peristaltic waves of nausea overwhelms me. It feels at times as if the whole ribcage is convulsively contracting and an examination by my GP, yesterday afternoon, confirmed much volatility in the abdominal region for which he has prescribed some anti-spasmodics as well as arranging for me to have a colonoscopy. I've got to admit that the combination of GORD and a spastic colon is not one that I would recommend.

Today has been a day of glorious sunshine and, I've spent several enjoyable hours sat beside the garden pond whilst ma belle pursued her task of clearing away some of the ground elder from one of the garden borders. Prior to that leisurely open air pursuit, we had both enjoyed watching "The Taming of the Shrew", shown as a tribute to Elizabeth Taylor - the chemistry between her and Burton is so wonderful to witness. And now, as I scribble these hasty words, we're watching "Elizabeth Taylor - A Tribute" on BBC2.