just like a woman

Sometimes we depend too much on the information presented by an official department, in this case the Endoscopy Unit at the District Hospital, that we are in danger of failing to notice any contradictions present in the leaflets provided. As mentioned in my previous post, my colonoscopy has been brought forward to tomorrow so today is a day of vital preparations.

At the head of the page titled 'The Day Before Your Examination' that "at any time today you may drink any of the following: Tea / coffee (with milk or sweetener if desired) ..." yet at the foot of the same page (following instructions with regard to Breakfast, Lunch and Supper, as well as preparing and taking the sachets of bowel scouring preparation) we are told that "Tea / Coffee after Lunch should be black" and that's with lunch allocated for midday!

This footnote also informs one that "no further solid food or milk and other dairy products are allowed after  Supper until you Hospital Procedure". The allocated time for supper is 7.00 - 9.00pm when it clearly states that "No solid food is allowed." Surely the note should therefore read that NO FURTHER SOLID FOOD ..... ALLOWED AFTER LUNCH UNTIL YOUR HOSPITAL PROCEDURE"

 For lunch I had a portion of chicken breast (steamed) and my next solid food will not be permitted until after my procedure due to commence sometime after 3.15pm tomorrow. I’m already craving bread, crisps and even fruit but I’ll just have to grin and bear it. I’ve never felt such desperate need for a cigarette since I gave them up last June.

A warning that I, as a male of the species, would have liked to have been given concerns the very drastic nature of the bowel preparation. After two violently liquid diarrheal episodes I felt, a short while later, an urge to empty my bladder (having been encouraged to consume lots of liquids) and considered it safe to do so from a traditional standing posture. Unfortunately the attempt to urinate produced a simultaneous anal leakage. Since then it has been essential to adopt a woman's seated posture whenever I need to take to take a pee.  That probable side effect would have been worth knowing about!

Urgent Preparations

And all of a sudden it's panic stations; after last month's sigmoidoscopy an appointment was made for me to have a full colonoscopy at the end of this month. Having just had a late lunch today the telephone rang; the endoscopy department had a cancellation and they wondered if I could go in on Friday afternoon. This means of course that I've unavoidably breached the dietary preparations for "Two Days before your Examination" and tomorrow will be the day for taking two sachets of the purgative solution (Sodium Picosulfate) and my last minimal low fibre food intake will be at mid-day, midway between the two doses, although i am permitted a clear soup or meat extract drink and perhaps a little clear jelly sometime between 7.00 and 9.00 pm.

It's not a case of me having the largest of appetites but, as the appointment on Friday is not until 3.15pm, I feel pretty certain that I'm going to be somewhat pre-occupied with hunger pangs. On reading the preparatory notes I find that it's necessary to "Talk to your doctor before taking the bowel preparation if you:"... - the relevant note here being "Have reflux oesophagitis (a condition where acid from the stomach enters the oesophagus". As things stand, I've been treated for this condition for a number of years so, a hasty phone call to my GP's surgery was in order. Within ten minutes a doctor called me back and assures me that, as the 2x30mg lansoprazole along with occasional doses of gaviscon kept it reasonably under control, it would be OK if I just continue with that medication. [My primary concern had been that the notes went on to state that "some conditions may require you to be an inpatient for administration of bowel preparation" and, somewhat ironically, I've always felt that when one's feeling grotty hospital is the last place you want to be!]

passively full days

Though still, of necessity, doing little that requires any degree of exertion it's amazing how full my days seem to be! My noblest intention of posting more regularly (to the blog) remains just that, an intention; perhaps I could blame the paucity of posts on not wanting to bore my readers but, that doesn't seem to have bothered me in the past. Perhaps the fact that my days seem to be 'full' is quite simply a reflection of my somewhat restricted stamina levels; had I a greater reserve of stamina then I would be able to fit much more into my days.

Never having been much of a sun worshipper, it's really quite amazing how much time I've been spending sat out in the garden during the current prolonged spell of dry sunshiny days. Parasols are regularly erected at the table in front of the bench, immediately behind our living room, and beside the love seat near the pond, to offer a degree of protection to this fair-skinned beauty. Even whilst sat beneath the parasol's shade I wear a hat, taking full heed of the advice I received when the basal cell carcinoma was diagnosed and excised  from my back last year. The shade, proferrred by the parasols, seems to camoflauge my presence for the garden's avian* visitors which have quite frequently settled themselves down in much closer proximity to this human interloper.

An irritable, intensely frustrating, spastic colon has ensured that I rarely ventured far from house and garden in recent days, my most distant jaunt being to 'Open Church' at St Marks - approximately 10 minutes walk - for coffee and a chat. Even that little stroll could prove a little more difficult now that my back trouble (related to the herniated disc?) has flared up again; hopefully a combination of tramadol, ibuprofen gel, and a firm back support will keep that little problem in check. Fortunately, I seem to have regained an ability to concentrate on doing a bit of reading, in the past few days having read Tony Benn's 'Letters to my Grandchildren' and the first couple of hundred pages of Manning Marable's 'Malcolm X a Life of Reinvention'.

Recent bank holidays have meant that I have been blessed with a few more days basking in the company of ma belle Helen, life could hardly be better.

* more on the birds in the garden on my beloved's blog


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earlier today I posted a couple of snapshots 'must be a tea garden!'  to Mal's Picturebox

new web album - bloomin' spring 2011

I have just added a new web album of 60 photographs, Bloomin' Spring 2011, to our New Luv4Sinners website!

an Easter Declaration

pond life

just had to video this - loved the way the tadpoles were swimming around
the basking common frog in our garden pond this morning

Oh What A Night

It was another one of those, fortunately not too regular, nights of erratic and painful discomfort. As I needed to be up and about this morning, at a much earlier hour than usual, I decided to take a shower before retiring au lit. One (at least this one) would expect a late evening shower to prove an aid to relaxation and rest but, that wasn’t to be the case.

Firstly, my shoulders didn’t seem able to find a comfortable position whichever way I sought to settle down for some much needed slumber. Next the calf muscles kept tortuously spasming and, in next to no time a painfully aching lead laden hollow sensation in my left wrist and forearm colluded in the protest movement. Having applied my wrist support, to alleviate the agonizing discomfort, I felt ready once more to enter the land of nod but a rebellious body refused to comply with its own needs.  That’s the point when the expletives came into play as I got myself out of bed and paced around the bedroom and landing.

 On returning to bed my ribs and flesh felt  as if they were disconcertingly trapped in a non-elastic skin whilst, simultaneously, an adequately loose fitting pyjama jacket suddenly felt unduly constrictive.  PJ’s duly removed, I felt that settling down for the night would now follow just as naturally as day follows night; wrong again! Wilfully directed arms and legs flailed, this way and that, as comfort became a completely elusive goal. By 3.45am, still uncomfortably restless, I decided to take a couple of tramadol 50mg capsules and, within half an hour I began to feel much more relaxed and eventually managed to snatch an hour or two of slumber. 

 I suppose that, at the back of my mind, the prospect of having to emerge at 7.00am to insert a couple of suppositories, in preparation for a 9.10am appointment for a sigmoidoscopy at the District Hospital, wasn’t totally conducive to getting a good night’s sleep. On normal days, the period between 7.00 and 10.00am frequently proves conducive to some most refreshing rest; it’s almost as if an awareness of missing out (on this familiar luxury) had militated, somewhat perversely, against my taking advantage of more usual hours of nocturnal rest.

This morning, I was actually admitted to the consulting room a few minutes early and, much to my relief the sigmoidoscopy revealed no abnormalities but, an appointment has been made for me to undergo a full colonoscopy in one month’s time.

... and RELAX (again)

Another afternoon in the garden, primarily with sun hat donned, relaxing in the shade of a parasol. Once again ma belle donned her gardening gear, on her return from morning worship, and has been tackling further border areas in an attempt to slow down the ground elder's rate of advance. Mid- afternoon I decided to load a wheelbarrow with the rich humus from the bottom of our compost bin and duly scattered it across the border that was yesterdays scene of Helen's battle against the pernicious weed (ground elder).


My body informed me that it was time to quit the exertion routine by the time I'd dealt with that one barrowload; I don't really intend to risk any dispiritingly excruciating post-exertional malaise. Relaxation is also the theme for the evening; having watched 'Songs Of Praise' with my beloved she then headed off to Hampsthwaite where she's taking the service this evening and, on her return, we'll probably switch on ITV for a bit of escapism compliments of "Lewis".


I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made!

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.

as boldness dissipates

Last night, once again, sleep had no intention of meeting a need; for hours on end it refused to intervene in response to my bodies requirements, restlessness reigned supreme. As we moved into the mid-morning hours a familiar quandary returned; do I just rest here in the hope that much needed sleep will catch me out or, do I get up and put on a bold face as I struggle to stay awake.

The boldness swiftly dissipates as excruciating discomfort becomes the latest manifestation of tiredness; Malcolm the bold crumbles into Malcolm the wimp. By the time in the early afternoon that my physio arrives, for a chat and application of the magic needles, tears are ready to well up. The tears are sourced from a deep rooted frustration at the sundry disabling ailments that have plagued me over recent years and, the fact that they're such a cause of worry and concern for my beloved.