Hopeless Sanity Breaking Corporation

How easily relative calm is broken. One would suppose a simple transfer transaction online, an action that I’ve regularly performed, would cause few if any emotional problems. That presumption proved false yesterday morning. Owing to malfunction of a security device I had to use an alternative method of logging on; so far all was well until I was informed that the alternative access method would shortly be phased out.

My next action was to use live chat, to find out how I could obtain a replacement security device. Two methods were available but I opted for a simple telephone call, via which I could obtain a replacement within five working days. Having been requested, by a disembodied voice, to input sort code, account number, my date of birth etc; which information I happily supplied, I was suddenly thrown when they asked me to input digits from my telephone banking password. As I don’t do telephone banking, I was unable to oblige. After holding for a considerable time I was put through to a distant call centre (presumably somewhere on the South Asian sub-continent) and was relieved to hear a real human voice!

I immediately informed the human, at the other end of the line, that I don’t do telephone banking but I was given their number to request a replacement secure key. At first this seemed to be going well until they requested I input a digit from the aforementioned telephone banking password. Talk about going round in circles; a short while later having given further security info, she requested that I confirm a favourite quote, place etc; and some other information, the spoken words of which I was unable to decipher. By now I’d reached breaking point; I explained that I was of a certain age and suffering from a chronic health condition and all I wanted was a replacement device. My beloved, noticing my distress took over the call and, without any further questions being asked was informed that the requested device would be despatched to me.

The Eye of the Storm – of health & non-well-being

The general state of my joints, muscles and general viscera this morning (Tuesday) could best be described as disconcertingly enervated. At least last night granted me a little more sleep, albeit rather unrefreshing, than was the case on Sunday night. On the latter hangs a story.

****

The story continues from my previous post.

Thursday morning I duly attended my appointment with a locum doctor at my usual GPs practice. The symptoms of either-or/ both-and gall bladder and diverticular infection weighed heavily on body, mind and spirit; either cause being an additional concern on top of my familiar chronic illness symptoms.

The doctor had me lay down as he proddd and poked my abdominal region, frustrated by my inability to either be or feel relaxed. When I started to sit up, post-examination, I was overwhelmed by an extremely acute vertigo type attack. Either the room, or the top of my head, spun violently around and a sensation of either falling to the bottom of a vortex, or that base/floor rushing up towards me, made me feel quite faint and nauseous. The GP advised me to lie back down for a few minutes before attempting to sit-up again. Next attempt at sitting upright produced the same sense of disequilibrium as I felt forced to throw my torso back down. A few more minutes rest were required as my heart rate was greatly elevated.

Once a degree of stability was restored the physician seemed to then ignore these vertiginous episodes as he prescribed a course of antibiotics for suspected diverticulitis. He added that I had no immediate need to obtain the prescribed medication unless the smptoms intensified. By Saturday lunchtime the diverticular symptoms receurred with a vengeance, so my beloved headed across town to an open pharmacy to obtain the medication and I duly started the prescribed course.

On Sunday lunchtime, my beloved having returned from taking the service at Trinity, I had dinner peparations well underway; as I stood up again to check on the cooking progress, a violent vertigo sensation once again overwhelmed me and, my natural panic response brought on a sense of tightness across the chest.

As the episode gradually subsided, Helen drove me across to A&E at the District Hospital, thinking that it was perhaps a recurrence of the labyrinthitis, to which I had previously succumbed some 15 years ago, and on that occasion succesfully treated/controlled with medication. We arrived at A&E, where probable waiting time was estimated at 4 hours, shortly after 14.00hrs. Not long after arrival my blood pressure, heart rate and temperature were checked by a triage nurse before returning to the waiting area.

When I eventually got into a cubicle, to be seen by a doctor, a nurse took some blood samples, rechecked blood pressure and wired me up for an ECG. The A&E doctor had me lay down whilst examining my abdomen listening to my chest as I took deep breaths in and out the, after a few minuteswhen he asked me to sit up slowly the vertigo recurred. Even after resting a little longer the same thing happened again. He also noted that my heart rate was considerably elevated and, was reluctant to let me go home. The doctor then went to consult with more senior staff.

By 18.20, I was transferred to CAT ward and, within a couple of  a hours moved to a bay in Acute Medical where the environment was somewhat more settled. I’ve often felt that Hospitals are those paradoxical places which are both the worst and the best place to be confined when you’re feeling unwell!

At 01.50 on Monday morning, a duty doctor came to examine me and, by this stage things had settled down a bit as I’d rested. A senior doctor came to check me over at about 11.30 and felt tht I had stabilized sufficiently to be discharged, and duly prepared notes for my GP practice for follow up, confirming that vertigo/labyrinthitis (middle ear infections) were the primary suspect and suggested that they may consider repositioning manoeuvres for BPPV. No new medicines were prescribed.

Ma Belle chauffeuse, aka Helen, my beloved and my OH, came to collect me and, it was wonderful to be enthusiastically greeted by our gorgeous hound Piper as we went to the car. We were back on home territory shortly after 13.00 and much rest was needed. It was really good to both listen and relax to the music on Radio 3 (classical) an option not available on the over bed radio in the hospital.

Fermentation and Percolation - Abdominal Joys

Wearied by humid heat, each minor task seems Herculean, even more so when it involves a trip into town. For many years now I’ve been unable to face travelling any distance but, it has become increasingly difficult to steel myself sufficiently for the very short journey into the town centre. Chauffeured by ma belle Helen it’s only a matter of 5 to 10 minutes in the car, but even that becomes quite arduous when the stifling heat seems to amplify the sensory overload of passing traffic and scurrying pedestrians both whilst journeying and on arrival at one’s goal.

Earlier this week I had to travel into town to collect my new glasses, of the spectacles not the drinking vessel kind; a short trip on a day when the heat proved overpowering to me. An additional problem, on this occasion, was a diarrhoeal flare up of my IBS. A quick visit to the toilets at the shopping mall found all cubicles temporarily “out of order”; the subsequent scurrying to a large store, and ride up the escalator, proved somewhat disconcerting as the whole abdominal area felt as if an excruciating fermentation or percolating  process was occurring.

Having reached the necessary facilities in the store both cubicles were occupied as I waited cross-legged and anxious for a unit to become available. As I’ve said before, visits into town are always a discomforting experience for yours truly but, this time, the humidity of the day alongside my turbulent abdominal spasms caused additional distress, on top of a familiar state of sensory overload.

It was really touch and go as to whether I managed to keep the appointment to try on and collect my new prescription eyewear. On the verge of a panic attack, I did manage to collect the optical item although I was more interested in getting back home than giving myself sufficient time to fully check that they were OK. Whether or not they proved satisfactory was of far less importance than the rest and facilities waiting for me at home.

Going Viral - a random note

Just gotta be honest; as I feel at the moment I don’t want to see of hear any reports of any text, video or image going viral. Since the end of last week I’ve been the victim of something viral, albeit of a gastro- intestinal variety. The diaorrheal component began last Saturday evening and by Sunday had become quite chronic; this symptom remained constant throughout Monday and Tuesday, without regard for my having substituted modest amounts of plain food (and avoidance of caffeine) in place of real food, alongside doses of loperamide / immodium.

In the early hours of Wednesday morning, four urgent visits to the loo were necessitated prior to 04.30hrs, so a further dose of loperamide was required. Miracle of miracles, no further visits to the aforementioned loo were required, other than false alarms, before a further twenty-six hours had elapsed (06.30hrs on Thursday morning) and things seemed to have normalised. A cause for rejoicing, albeit of short duration; by 11.30hrs the old enemy had returned.

I trust my friends will avoid mention of things “going viral” when in my presence!

After the Virgin’s visit – I proffer my apologies to Epson

Regular readers of my blog may well recall my angrily frustrated posts regarding several futile attempts at connecting an Epson photo-printer to my network (three postings between 19^th & 20^th December are the pertinent ones).

You will have seen there that it proved impossible to set the machine up wirelessly, as well as only being able to set-up an Ethernet connection by use of a manually fixed IP address.

Now that my previous VM super hub has been replaced (post of January 27 refers), I have been immediately able to establish a wireless connection to the printer. In response to a customer satisfaction survey from the Virgin, I commented:

the immediate experience, the politeness & efficiency of the engineer on this occasion would have lead me to a 10 rating but I have some misgivings about difficulty of getting through to the appropriate person on the 150 number.

Since this visit some problems that had been going on for a considerable time, and which I attempted to deal with via yr social media account, have finally been resolved. Ultimately, the problems seem to have been with the old hub and, a wireless connection problem with a new printer, for which I blamed the printer’s manufacturer, has also been resolved.

Perhaps a policy of automatically upgrading/ replacing old hubs should be undertaken, as that would have saved me considerable anxiety which could have proved injurious to my already chronic health condition.

For the time being, I am well satisfied with the Epson product and even reasonably satisfied with the Virgin’s broadband service. To Epson I proffer an apology.

EPSON WOES - just for the record

Having made a grievous error of purchasing a new photo printer (older ones now best for document printing alone) I found myself damaging my health (and deeply upsetting my beloved) in trying to set up the new machine - the following is a transcript of my communication via Twitter with the printer company - just for the record ....

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

EPSON WOES – just for the record

Malcolm Evison‏    (tweeted)

@sinnaluvva

 Dec 16

More

@EpsonUK took me two hours to connect to new XP55 machine - wouldn't reognize wireless or ethernet - after  a while did accept fixed IP Address via ethernet. Never had such problems with any printer connection over many years. Displeased!

Epson responded to my tweet:

Epson UK‏

@EpsonUK

 2h 2hours ago (Dec 18)

More

Replying to @sinnaluvva

Hi Malcom, Sorry to hear that, If you require any assistance please follow our profile and DM us your query. We will be happy to help. Kind Regards.

DM to Epson as requested 2 hours earlier 1920hrs 18 Dc 2017

setting up my new Epson XP55 took ovr two hours on Saturday, would not connect to wireless or ethernet Eventually had to set up a fixed IP. Never had a machine with these problems over many years and with a chronic I'm totally knackered by the effort. What is wrong with your machines. Suggestion of temp USB connection to aid wireless set up totally useless but, only USB cable I had to try was an Epson one from over a decade ago - maybe not right now - (that printer collapsed, as did another Epson in just over a year's light use) don't know what's wrong with me that I gave Epson another chance.

addendum DM at 2000hrs

sorry, I omitted the important word "illness" after word chronic. And, having paid £83 for 1 set of XL inks ( I misread thinking it was 24 cartridges) I think you should supply a technician gratis to set up your machine with its set-up inks! *

*[Not part of transcript - I usually rely on compatible inks but was hoping for something more impressive!]

19 december from Epson UK (below)

Hi Malcom, I am very sorry that you are unhappy with your Epson XP-55, It is never our intention to disappoint customers in any way and I would like to apologise for any inconvenience caused. Were you able to connect the printer in the end? Is there anything we can do to assist you?

my response to Epson UK via DM

I don't understand why it can't find a wireless signal or an automatic IP address via ethernet - I now have it situated in an upstairs room close to our Virgin hub (100 Mbps) - never had these problems with HP or Canon printers - I've even been able to troubleshoot others problems. Unfortunately, constant re-attempts at setting up are not at all conducive to retaining my already low stamina levels (ME & FM sufferer since 2003).

plus my DM

its current position is of course most inconvenient!

plus my DM

After another unsuccessful and exhausting attempt to achieve a wireless connection to your product, which leaves me shattered, I am more than ever regretting my purchase. IF A USB CONNECTION WOULD ASSIST IN SETTING UP THE WIRELESS CONNECTION (as your set-up disk suggests) WOULD IT NOT BE THE DECENT THING TO DO TO SUPPLY (GRATIS) THE APPROPRIATE USB LEAD. There is definitely something odd in the way your machine is constructed.

REFRESHED or NOT

To sleep, perchance to dream; no that’s not it, I dream that I may once again experience a sense of refreshment from my sleep. I have, quite simply, lost track of how many months, or even years, have passed since I last remember having felt really refreshed after a night’s sleep. The one thing that’s for certain is that I now require at least eleven hours of bed rest per night just to function quite modestly.

What has brought this state of affairs to a head is the (apparent) payback I’ve experienced the past couple of days, a result of having an early appointment at the local hospital on Monday morning. By early, I’m talking a 9.20 appointment which incurred my curtailing my bed-rest by just over two hours; that experience may, perhaps, demonstrate that I do in fact receive a certain amount of refreshment from my normal extended bed rest, hence the payback yesterday and today.

Yesterday was the first time, for a while, that I was totally unable to tackle the short evening walk with Piper; a sudden onset giddiness alongside unsupportive (de-boned sensation) lower limbs. Today, I started the evening walk but was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of breathlessness / gasping for breath accompanied by a not unfamiliar discomfort in the upper abdomen, alongside a bruised tenderness in the armpits (axillary lymph nodes).

Apart from the sleep deprivation (early appointment), the hospital visit went well; I saw consultant, went for X-Ray, saw consultant again and, in spite of having heard an apology for delay in the clinic, was back on the road home, with ma belle chauffeuse, within 80 minutes of the clinic appointment time. I now await an appointment for an arthroscopy of the right knee.

The excitedly enthusiastic welcome home from Piper, our delightful hound, was overwhelming; he re-acted as if he’d missed the pair of us (ma belle et moi) for at least a couple of weeks. Of course my excursions away from the immediate vicinity of the homestead are quite rare occurrences so, the simultaneous absence of both his people may prove a little unsettling for our boy Piper.

The Common Cold - A Rare Event (an accidental posting)

Life goes on, recurrence of the old familiar aches, pains and dysfunctions (primarily ME related) nag me into acknowledgment of my presence in the material world. Don't get me wrong, whatever  ailments are thrown my way I still manage a smile, a laugh and, dare I say it, pure enjoyment and delight in the presence of my beloved.

The last few days I've been quite knocked out by a quite severe cold and, who knows, this may be a good sign - fingers crossed for the moment but I won't hold my breath; last time I had a real cold was best part of thirteen years ago. In 2003, a cold or flu-like symptoms seemed to accompany my every day, never materializing as a full-blown anything. Two thousand and three was also the year of my major collapse leading to an eventual ME diagnosis; in the meantime, whatever discomforts and anguish I've been heir to, a full blown cold has eluded me.

Actually I had no intention of writing a full post, just wanted to say that I've posted a brand new poem (both text only and illustrated version) on my Mal's Factory poetry weblog. It very much reflects the present ambience in which I have my being.

Link: http://malsfactory.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/twice-removed.html

A SLOW SLIDES JOURNEY INTO DAYMARE

A SLOW SLIDES JOURNEY INTO DAYMARE

Today would be best forgotten but, it’s my failure that I find it hard to forget, just as I find it almost insurmountably difficult to forgive. Much of today’s problems, other than the generally ongoing ME related ailments, emanate from the inappropriate prescribing by a certain medical professional. That GP I am unable to forgive.

This morning I was forced to emerge, from the duvet lair, a good

1 ¾  hrs earlier than is my norm, to keep a previously postponed appointment at the hospital’s orthoptics department. The morning, apart from my unearthly hours emergence into the day, was also greeted with a quite heavy snowfall.

Anyone who knows me, at all well, is all too aware of my difficulty with travel of any kind and, this morning’s short journey, following the main roads rather than our usual shortcuts, was one of following and being followed by skidding and stalling vehicles.  This was just like living through a nightmare for my sensitivities. At one point, even my beloved chauffeuse thought we’d maybe have to call the hospital to cancel the appointment, this time at much shorter notice. In spite of prior weather warnings of snowfall the responsible(!) authorities hadn’t bothered to grit the roads.

Whilst my beloved queued, waiting to access the hospital’s car park, I made my way to the relevant department. As I looked for the right place I wandered past the turning, having been told it was to the left, by a volunteer near reception, whereas it was actually to the right. Having ambled along the corridor a notice clearly stated that patients for Visual Fields Test should take a seat “here”, which I duly obeyed. Several minutes later a couple of hospital staff ambled by and asked if I was alright; I in turn informed them that I was waiting for the visual field test. Evidently I should have first reported to a reception staton some twenty to thirty yards further along the corridor.

By this time I urgently needed the loo, and had a bout of re-active diarrhoea, before entering the surgery. The clinician was quite concerned that my head felt so hot, and I explained how this wasn’t unusual as I could sweat in a freezing environment, my body thermostat being shattered / wildly erratic ever since succumbing to ME.

About halfway through the tests on my first eye I required a break as my chin and forehead were so uncomfortable, and I needed a drink of water before I continued. No sooner was the patch transferred to the other eye, and appropriate lens in place than I became quite headachy and totally incapable of concentrating as all spun around me. I informed the clinician that I wasn’t able to continue the test and also cancelled and discharged myself from tomorrows appointment with ophthalmology.

I simply cannot cope with early hours or concentrated attention. The appointments would not, in any case, have been necessary had my GP not messed haphazardly with my medication. [Earlier postings have already dealt with this situation]

A Further Post Script to previous post

This post is a further postscript to 

FRUSTRATIONS of a Medical and Medicinal Kind

 as someone who has been taking amitriptyline at night for more than a couple of years it's a good job that I thoroughly read the Patient Information Leaflet! To replace amitriptyline and a low dose of sertraline my GP has prescribed a drug (which I'm supposed to start immediately) which explicitly states that one "should not take Trazodone if I've taken amitriptylene within the last two weeks".

It also states special care should be taken if "your age is above 65years, as you may be more prone to side effects" and "take special care if you suffer from conditions like abdominal pain, muscle weakness, mental confusion"

I am 71yrs 7months of age, and suffer intermittently with abdominal pains and muscle weakness as part of my general state of unwell-being (ME). Even mental confusion was present not long after I first succumbed to ME at the end of 2003.

CLOCKWATCHING

Strange how putting the clock back an hour can make one feel capable of regaining time; if only! To be honest though, it’s the very fleetingness of time that I’m still struggling to come to terms with.

As a child it feels as if the next summer holiday, Christmas Day, or even the weekend, can’t ever come soon enough. Confined to the schoolroom, the hours of each day hang leadenly as you watch real life going on at the other side of the window. Mind you this slower passage of time also provided greatly extended hours of play, leaving one exhausted long before the day was done.

These days, after a long night’s unrefreshing sleep and restlessness, that state of exhaustion seems to accompany almost any small task; perhaps it’s not really exhaustion but rather an aching void replacing that illusive space where stamina reserves should be accumulated.

When one’s sundry aches and pains are playing neurological havoc it’s easier to understand the lack of stamina but, this physically aching void doesn’t even seem to require these more tangible ailments. Mind you the IBS, diverticular disease, rhinitis etc; are always lurking just below the surface.

The lower my stamina reserves, the tetchier I become and, whatever reserves are there explode in bursts of angry expletives. I don’t deny that I’ve always had a bit of a temper, the outbursts often justifiable on socio-political grounds, but the frequency of expletives in my occasional outbursts seems to have grown exponentially. Anger stems from frustration, frustration from limitations on both physical and emotional stamina.The truly ridiculous thing is that these outbursts leave me feeling more drained.

Although these aching voids can sometimes feel like an eternal punishment, days (and even years) have passed by so swiftly, as if to emphasize the weight of spiritually / emotionally good days I must be having. Any day spent with my beloved is wonderfully worthwhile, even if I’m not always the best of company.

So little time, and so much I want or intend to do. I’ve put the clocks back but, sadly, I cannot put back time.

the space-hopper weighed down

A deep lethargic spirit consumes my very being; a lead weighted space-hopper would be about right as a description of my personage at 11.30 am. Last night was the worst of those seemingly endless, restless, nauseatingly painful nights that I’ve experienced in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, a disconcertingly discomforted restless night is currently par for the course, but last night was topped with added painfulness. Even my regular pre-emptive strike against nocturnal discomfort, amitriptylene and tramadol taken an hour or so before snuggling under the duvet, seems of little if any avail these days.

 

As I fitfully tossed, turned and squirmed au lit, post-nasal drip and gastro-oesophageal reflux added a further frustrating layer of dis-ease to the tenderness of cervical and axillary lymph nodes. Invisible clog dancers throbbed their way from armpit to elbow, elbow to wrist, before treating the rib cage as a xylophone. As I stretched my legs over the end of the mattress, my toes burnt as if they were being scrubbed with a wire brush. Once the nagging aches pulsed through my hands I decided to don my wrist splints which, somehow, seemed to gradually alleviate the pains in my upper arms.

 

Even the weather seemed to conspire against sleep, the roar of the wind was disturbingly amplified as I lay there, watching the flickering shadows which took on a somewhat threatening character in the darkened bedroom. An irrational childhood fear of the dark seems to have re-emerged recently, although it only applies to darkness within a building not in the great outdoors. Switching on a bedside lamp almost miraculously eased some of the bodily tension but, even then, only quite short snatches of sleep, from around 4.00am,were on the menu. It seems to be the rule that only unrefreshing sleep may be proffered to yours truly! The past couple of weeks have also seen an alarming resurgence of diverticular and spastic colon symptoms, no doubt contributing towards the sudden all enveloping exhaustion which erratically disrupts my daytime routine (or lack of such).

 

I am of course in that period of my life when I start to question how many of my ailments, or to what degree, they are symptoms of an ageing body as much as the manifestation of an underlying chronic illness?

 

Now, here’s the surprise. In spite of all the foregoing ailments I still manage to enjoy life, constantly amazed by the intricacy and complexity of the world around us, attempting to interpret one’s relationship not only to the earth and one’s immediate vicinity but, how we fit into the whole cosmic scheme. The joy that I gain by observing the sheer variety of flora and fauna, even just within the confines of our garden, still fills me with a sense of wonderment. That there is something, rather than nothing, into which we have been thrown, is cause enough for celebration; the love I share with ma belle Bright Light ultimately overwhelms a one time tendency of mine towards cynicism.

Changing Conditions

 

Sometimes conditions affect one in unexpected ways. I found it difficult to cope with the heat on the warmest of our summer days, flagging with fatigue after less than half-an-hour sat out in the garden, in the shade of a parasol. The only answer was to retreat into the house, draw the curtains, and switch on the
oscillating fan.

 

As daytime temperatures have cooled down, and an occasional chilly dampness returned to the equation, some of the old familiar aches and pains have decided to re-inhabit my corporeal being. This correlation of events, leads to a suspicion that these aching components are perhaps more to do do with arthritic and rheumatic twinges than the underlying neurological condition. No sooner have I proffered that suspicion than I recognised that a different interpretation was also plausible.

 

As more moderate temperatures returned, the temptation to tackle a few additional ‘light’ gardening and household tasks was all too easy to yield to. My main problem is a tendency to only listen to my body when I’ve almost drained my low stamina reserve. The trick of ‘pacing’ is to always keep a little stamina in reserve, otherwise any further exertion almost inevitably results in some kind of payback.

 

In the course of the past few days, a light giddily disorienting headache, accompanied by sudden onset pallor has been a recurring theme; my erratically disrupted sleep pattern (during my required dozen hours of bed rest) does little to alleviate such irritations. At other times the sense of being ill-at-ease within my own skin, a sensation that the skin is too tightly constricting the flesh of torso limbs and digits, proves grindingly nausea inducing.

 

I am thankful that, at present, the gnawing tenderness of glands under the jaw and in the armpits is only quite rarely experienced.

 

My beloved ‘Bright Light’ has been enjoying a holiday from the workplace, last week and this, but finds herself needing plenty of rest so, whilst I’ve always revelled in her company, we’ve been kept busy keeping an eye on each other, each making sure that the other doesn’t overdo things. My life has never felt so complete as it has in the time since meeting and marrying ma belle; her faith and loving disposition makes me feel privileged to know her.

... and the usual suspects

Things seemed much brighter, as I benefitted from the cumulative effect of two acupuncture sessions in relatively close proximity, but these gains in terms of stamina level and lower levels of pain weren’t destined to endure.

 

 A bout of toothache, responding to touch and vibration of a toothbrush but not to either heat or cold, quickly faded only to return a couple of weeks later. The return was certainly with a vengeance as the ache extended through my jaw right up to the chin. An emergency appointment with the dentist led to one extraction and a course of antibiotics for a deep rooted infection. Whereas at one time I would have taken these things in my stride the effect has not been to dissimilar to that of a ‘Mickey Finn’.

 

So, Friday afternoon found me in the dentist chair and Wednesday saw me take the final dose of amoxicillin. On Tuesday morning I had to emerge from the duvet lair long before my usual hour of bravely facing the (fairly) new day; my appointment had finally come around at the Dermatology and Lesions clinic. The clinician confirmed the basal cell carcinoma on my chest and suspects that the lesion on my leg is Bowens so, within the next few weeks I’ll be having the bcc excised and a biopsy taken of the suspected Bowens.

 

All in all, these events have left me feeling a little more shattered than is my norm but, at least I’ve been able to enjoy a few rare glimpses of sunshine in the garden as I watch the birds devour whatever treats we’ve placed at the sundry feeding stations.     

of appointments and pent-up frustrations

Last Saturday found me out in the garden doing a bit of lopping, pruning and trimming of sundry shrubs. I must have spent a little over an hour enjoying a gloriously sunshiny day, as the shrubs ensured work for idle hands. Two days later, by way of reward for these endeavours, a day of numbingly aching body and soul when even switching on a kettle seemed far too great an effort.

Mid-way through my waking hours on Tuesday, I started to feel reasonably recovered (from the tortuous preceding day) so there was little to suggest the tear-fuelled emotional response to a visit to my GP’s surgery the following day.

My appointment on Wednesday afternoon was with the same GP referred to in the post “once more to the land of A&E”, and therefore a most positive prospect. Once in the consulting room, the atmosphere seemed overwhelmingly business-like as, within the allocated 10 minutes, he wanted to focus solely on symptoms of breathlessness and chest pains, thereby excluding all other aches, pains and painful disorders, from the equation. He said he was going to arrange an appointment with the cardiology department and was also sending me for further blood tests, as well as a Glucose tolerance test (requested by one of the practice nurses who had been checking my NHS Health Check results). It was also mentioned, in passing that I’d not kept appointments with the Chronic Fatigue Unit and, they had now discharged me! For the truth of this see my post “psycho-fatigue”, (which describes my departure from an assessment visit at which I informed the psychologist I wouldn’t be paying any further visits to the Unit and, hence, discharged myself).

As I headed back home, with my beloved, I was overwhelmed with a pent-up frustration and tears flooded out. I felt as if I was being treated as a chest-pain, not at all as a person! When I got home the tears flowed even more freely and I declared that I wouldn’t bother with any of their b…dy tests. Being told that I’d failed to keep appointments at the psycho-fatigue unit, a false surmise, turned out to be the final straw that released all the pent-up frustration.

Ma Belle swiftly contacted the surgery to inform them how distraught I was after the appointment. A short time later I received a ‘phone call from the same GP I had seen earlier, as he wanted to understand why I should be so upset and, at the same time apologized if he’d misread the situation and seemed too business-like!

Early evening our doorbell rang – an unexpected visitor had arrived! The doctor, having finished his surgery duties, had in his own time called around to visit us and enquire what he could do to help! I was assured that he hoped to take a holistic approach and, he once again apologized for misreading the situation. Talk about going the extra mile! The visit ended most amicably and I will be seeing him again on Monday for a further twenty minute consultation.

Meanwhile I’m bracing myself for tomorrow’s early morning bloodletting session at the District Hospital.

from Minor to the more mundane

Sometimes the desire to communicate "from" overwhelms the paucity of substance from which one may wish to communicate. At others, that very desire (to communicate) is thwarted by an insufficiency of physical and/or emotional stamina. I am, currently, undergoing a rather prolonged wilderness trek.

Whilst I observe nature's changing seasons, primarily in the context of our gardens flora and fauna, I'm reluctant to admit to my own ageing. Having already felt rather decrepit, for a considerable period of time, the next season for me hardly bears thinking about; much better that I skip a season and pray for Spring's renewal.

The furthest my adventurous spirit has allowed me to travel of late is 'Open Church' at our local parish church or, even closer to home, 'Cafe Culture' located within a few hundred yards of our front door.

 A somewhat spastic colon puts paid to any desire to venture further afield whilst sundry, at times excruciating, muscular aches and pains contribute little to any such desire. Discomforting armpit and submandibular tenderness, an erratically irregular sore throat, acid reflux and post nasal drip, are worthy daytime adjuncts to nocturnal restlessness, night sweats and unrefreshing sleep.

Life is never without its drama, as one may be instantly transported from a state of relative alertness to that of a shattering exhaustion.

of needles and needless worries

The physiotherapist called again on Wednesday afternoon, as promised, to administer a gentle treatment with the magic needles whilst I sat in a chair, rather than my usual supine position. At first I found it more difficult to relax whilst seated but, as I practised a few breathing exercises, I soon overcame this little obstacle. By the time the practitioner was ready to remove the needles I felt wrapped in a gently warm glow of relaxation.

On Thursday I felt even more achingly tired than usual; incidentally this kind of minor setback, on the day following acupuncture treatment, is quite regularly experienced by yours truly, the benefits usually start to be felt around 48 hours after the treatment. Although feeling totally shattered when I went to bed that night, multiple discomforts, in armpits, forearms and torso prevented me from getting any sleep before 3.00am and, even then it only visited me in brief intermittent snatches.

By the time I freed myself from the duvet realm, on Friday morning, I was surprised to feel reasonably refreshed, all the better to face another day of minimal exertion. In the afternoon I managed a visit to Café Culture with my beloved; this neighbourhood café, a few minutes strolling time from home, has proved a real godsend.

On Saturday morning we were anticipating an early afternoon visit from six Southerners plus our eldest daughter Beth. I’ve got to admit that the prospect seemed quite daunting. For the past several years, I have had great difficulty coping with any kind of claustrophobic hospitality but, in the event I needn’t have worried. For some reason (unbeknown to yours truly) I was on quite scintillating form; by way of a bonus, it was also the first full-day that I’d survived, for some considerable time, without having to resort to painkillers*.

It was only this afternoon that I recognized the latter achievement, as I passed an afternoon in state of totally exhausting shatteredness; this extreme discomfort is a far from atypical reaction to any previous days socializing, regardless of that activities duration or intensity.

* a sign that the acupunctures benefits had well and truly kicked in?

normal service may be resumed ... tomorrow

On Monday afternoon I was really looking forward to a visit from Helen A, the physiotherapist, who over the past few years has helped me with both pain management and a modicum of re-energizing by the skilful manipulation of acupuncture needles. It had been a considerable time since her previous visit and, my body was screaming out for some kind of miraculous intervention but, my guts weren’t prepared to have any of it. No sooner had she positioned the first couple of needles than an unexpected (and unrelated) excruciating spasm of the colon necessitated a change of posture, and consequently the abandonment of the treatment.

I’m unfortunately all too familiar with colonic spasms, and quite regularly have to take an anti-spasmodic medication but, the intensity of pain on this occasion was of an altogether different order. My eyes began watering as I gasped for breath; it felt as if someone had got hold of the intestine and knotted it as tightly as possible whilst somehow managing to wield a cat o’ nine tails thus granting themselves added sadistic satisfaction.

Suddenly, the tears came flooding out as I apologized for being such a wimp; as the evening progressed the abdominal disturbances began to settle down as the pains in the upper limbs started to demand my attention. Come bed-time, discomfort in both upper and lower limbs ensured that several sleepless hours would ensue.

The good news is that I’ve had a much more settled day today and, the physio will be calling later tomorrow afternoon to administer the healing needles.

of enjoyment, endeavours and frustrating limitations

I’m just so grateful that I became more alert as Tuesday afternoon progressed. By early evening I really felt on good form as Beth, Helen and myself enjoyed a meal at Brios to celebrate Beth’s birthday. I do feel really blessed with such an adorable wife and wonderful step-daughters, they have made my life so much richer.

Although it took quite a while to settle down to sleep, after dining out, I didn’t have too bad a night’s rest albeit with the far too familiar intermittent bouts of sleep! Wednesday morning, I ventured out into the garden by 11.00am to perform a few minor chores, the primary one being to split up a clump of globe thistles (echinops ritro) which had rather outgrown their particular situation. I potted up a small clump, to set aside for a friend who had expressed an interest in them. No sooner had that task been performed than Cathy arrived to visit us, and join us for lunch, just before she was due to head off back to her work in Switzerland. I must admit I was grateful for the break.

Late afternoon found ma belle et moi back out in the garden. This time I transplanted some of the thistles, elsewhere in the garden, before shovelling out some of the wonderful humus from the bottom of our compost bin. The latter task proved quite exhausting and, it wasn’t too long before I found myself achingly on the verge of collapse. I thought it wise to listen to my body! My beloved supervised me as I took a shower before settling down to a very lazy evening. Even though I felt exhaustedly tired when I retired au lit, at about 10.00pm, an extremely restless night followed. Intermittent sleep took over from around 4.00am and I finally emerged into a beautiful new day at around 11.00am. It seems that, these days, regardless of my levels of activity / inactivity, my bed rest requirement is generally between 11 and 13 hours.

Earlier attempts to write this blog were thwarted by a nausea inducing discomfort emanating from the armpits. It’s really hard to describe this sensation, which forces me to clamp my arms tightly to my side or stretch them behind my back but, it totally disrupts any attempt to concentrate on reading or web-surfing. I’ve discovered that this type of discomfort can, occasionally, be moderately alleviated by applying my arms to a more directly physical activity but that’s entirely dependent on my having a sufficient reserve of stamina.

the best laid plans

After that wonderful Early Bird morning and subsequent day, ( bird talk – not quite up with the larks ), I fully expected  a decent nights sleep to follow. My hopes and expectations were drastically thwarted; I remained resolutely awake and alert throughout the nocturnal hours, sleep only arriving after 8.30am and, spasmodic at that. As a result, my emergence from the duvet realm (yesterday) did not occur until 11.30am; the rest of the day witnessed little action from yours truly until mid-afternoon when I gathered a few windfall apples, raked and grazed the ground (including the longer grasses intrusive moss underlay) in the more wildlife friendly area of the garden and, gathered a few tomatoes from the greenhouse plants.

The evening was spent basking in the company of ma belle, listening to some music before watching ‘Doc Martin’. By 10.00pm I was most decidedly shattered, even omitting the teeth cleaning ritual prior to hitting the sack. Almost immediately upon my head sinking into the pillow I was wrapped in slumber. Sound sleep, with a few intermittently vibrant dreams, ensued until after 7.00am. Post 7.00am   I slumped back into sleep until 10.00am, the cup of coffee, left on my bedside table as my beloved departed for work, remained untouched and well and truly chilled.

One would have thought that an early venture out of the house, following such a good apparently refreshing sleep, would have found me with an extra spring in my step but, that was not to be the case. As I headed off along the road, my lower limbs felt as firmly supportive as a pair of loosely rolled-up towels. My left arm felt like an achingly hollow lead tube.

About a third of the way towards my goal, Open-Church at St Marks, I mentally yielded to the message from my exercise resistant limbs and, after the briefest of pauses, began the slow saunter home; and now, a few rested hours later,  my body finally seems to be waking up.