A Long Night's Journey Into Daze

By last evening, the efficacious application of sundry supports, and a small opioid dose, had brought me back into a more at ease body to contain my soul and mind. So far all was going well and an hour before my proposed bedtime I took 30mg amitriptyline along with 50mg tramadol to, hopefully, pre-empt a bout of restless legs, throbbing knees, and ultra-sensitivity in my toes.

Well, shall I let you in to a little secret; the pre-emptive strike was a dismal failure on this occasion. Within half-an-hour, of laying under the duvet, my knees were attacked by a sharp throbbing ache which, apparently, demanded of my unconscious that they should be flung out from the side of the bed in a way that switched between an unsupported taut outward stretch and, a limp folding at the knees, as calves crashed against the divan base drawers with toes trailing on the floor.

I frequently attempted to change my sleep preparation posture, laying first on one side then the other, laying on my back, on my front, and sundry intermediate stages. Suddenly, the ultra-sensitivity of my toes added to the problem; regardless of whether top, bottom or side of my toes made contact with the bedding a chinese-burn sensation caused an unpremeditated jolt of my lower limbs. After two-and-a-half hours of variable intensities of discomfort there was little chance of an imminent visit to the land-of-nod, so I picked up my tablet pc, plugged in headphones, and caught up with a couple of TV programmes. Six hours after succumbing to the lure of the duvet realm a couple of hours of light sleep took over.

A mid-morning entry into the clothed arena didn’t seem to offer much improvement. After ten minutes browsing a magazine my wrists began to ache, swiftly followed by the hollow ache emanating from the armpits. Wrist, elbow and shoulder supports were gradually donned with little sign of the discomfort easing. A dose of tramadol seemed to take for ever to kick in; a generalised discomfort hadn’t settled until some time after my beloved had returned from her preaching appointment but, unlike the previous Sunday I was able to finish dinner preparations and really enjoyed the fruits of my labours.

mutual aid society - Malcolm & Piper

Throughout the morning’s persistent discomfort, and distress, our devoted hound, Piper, never strayed far from my side, snuggling up alongside me in a truly therapeutic manner; without him my screams of frustration would have been considerably louder.

a piece of heartfelt light verse - audio

All Strapped Up and Still it Won’t Go

Some days, when everything’s apparently going smoothly, a familiar recurring symptom comes almost as a surprise. Quite what causes the symptom is a bit of a puzzle but, that doesn’t make it any less real or disconcerting. What I’m really talking about is a cluster of inter-related aches, pains and intense discomfort.

After using a tablet PC, laptop, or even holding a newspaper whilst I surf / read for just a few minutes, a nagging hollow-ache or tenderness in the armpits develops. That discomfort in itself induces a sensation of nausea. Sometimes applying elasticated supports to my elbows alleviates the immediate nausea but, far too frequently, the armpit ache is followed by pains in the wrist which may respond to the application of wrist supports. Normal, over the counter, analgesics don’t touch the pain or acute discomfort and, I often rely on a discomforted time of rest with upper-arms clamped tightly to the torso whilst forearms are stretched behind my back. Other times a 100mg dose of tramadol has proved efficacious.

                          shoulders, wrists & elbows all strapped up but still it won't go 

I only wish I could find a way to pre-empt this acute discomfort but, the only way to play it safe would be to never attempt to hold a book, paper, tablet, use a laptop, or write anything down on paper. That I will not yield to!

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.

and suddenly they flow

and suddenly they flow

“pains come and go

and tears flow

a creeping fermentation

of an odious decay … “ - Malcolm Evison 060818

Today has not been the best of days, nor yet the worst; it has been one helluva roller-coaster ride of both sudden and slow onset aches and pains, a turbulent discharge from both physical and emotional reserves of stamina. Tears have flowed abundantly on a few occasions as I’ve attempted to explain the frustration of living with a chronic illness, along with several subsidiary ailments, each randomly producing varying degrees of aches and discomfort, ranging from reluctantly accepted background throbbing, rumbling aches, to sudden sharply acute attacks of pain.

As I’m also in my mid-70s (age wise) thoughts of mortality are all too rarely far away, but come to the fore with each new acute onset of pain and discomfort.

Over the past weekend I’ve experienced symptoms quite akin to a flare-up of both gall-bladder (cholecystitis) and diverticular disease in relatively acute form, neither of which do much for one’s morale! At times I had to wonder if my alto and tenor burps could present a non-dissonant counterpoint to the bass line of flatulent release.

An underlying throbbing ache and discomfort in the abdominal region is interspersed with a sharper more stabbing intermittent pain. I’m still struggling to come to terms with a sharp stabbing pain which intermittently occurs at a point apparently just behind the bottom left hand side of the ribcage. Erratic bowel behaviour has long been a problem, swiftly putting paid to any notion of getting away for a break, but in any case the sensory overload of a short car trip into town can frequently prove overwhelming.

An attempt on Monday to hold and read a rather slim paperback book led to a need to don wrist & palm supports, elbow supports, as well as having to stretch my arms across my back, in an attempt to overcome a nausea inducing hollow ache emanating from my armpits. These are not at all uncommon symptoms as they tend to occur when holding a newspaper, using a laptop or tablet PC, just one of the little joys of being.

Attempting to explain the frustration I felt, bordering on despair at times, to my beloved OH just led to an overwhelming flood of tears from yours truly and, quite understandably caused upset to her.

***

This morning, Tuesday 070818, ma belle called the GP practice to see if I could get an appointment, as whenever I check up online they never seem to have any appointments available during the next couple of weeks, and thought they would maybe prescribe some antibiotics. (Regular readers may remember my report of a previous gall-bladder flare-up being recognized and successfully treated with antibiotics by my own GP, and the following arrangements for  a cholestectomy –  an operation which had to be cancelled as, in the meantime I succumbed to a minor stroke - http://sinnaluvva.blogspot.com/2017/06/on-mend-and-back-again.html and http://sinnaluvva.blogspot.com/2017/10/on-opening-and-closing-of-doors.html

are the posts that refer).

I duly received a call back from a nurse practitioner who decided that as I wasn’t at that moment in discomfort, I was still abed and not yet having breakfasted, an appointment with a locum for Thursday morning was made. As I explained that I hadn’t attempted to eat anything this morning still being in the duvet realm, she commented that still being in bed at shortly after 9.00am was a wonderful luxury for the retired. Fortunately I refrained from cussing as I explained to her that no, it isn’t a luxury as for the past 14 years I’ve required a bed rest of  around12 hours per day, sometimes more, (non-refreshing sleep being a component of, and exacerbating the distressing symptoms of ME).

Well, I’ve managed to get thus far without any tears but am now desperately in need of a rest; well it is 11.30am … time for wrist and elbow supports once again, the armpits … etcetera, etcetera …

And on it goes but, at least for now, I’ve staunched the flow.

A BODY FEELS (The Heat)

A BODY FEELS (THE HEAT)

Each footstep jolts

the ankle, knee and hip

provokes a frank response

to the humid heat

Today the weariness

extends its reach

beyond the old

familiar aches and pains

Almost as if each limb

and digit has undergone

some sauna torture.

As irritated bowel

And subservient colon

conspire against the bladders need -

bladder reciprocates the deed

and every oozing pore

Screams out for mercy

Malcolm Evison –

first hasty draft 18.50 -  23 July 2018

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.

Of Resting and Sleeplessness – postlude to Stress of the Normal

Come early evening and tiredness verging on exhaustion takes passing hold of me but, as a notoriously bad sleeper, I hoped not to drift off at such an early hour. Of course resting / relaxation, in the form of a movie, was the order of the evening; my usual evening entails the playing of CDs and / or DVDs at some point, rarely anything too taxing on my limited resource of stamina. Admission time; I did sleep through some of the movie but, come the time when my beloved was ready for bed I was feeling wide awake. I wonder if my readers will understand the sensation of being simultaneously wide-awake and yet 95% drained of energy both physically and emotionally.

You will have noted that as I headed to the bedroom, to join my beloved, the signs were not exactly propitious. Those forebodings were proved correct! As I prepared for bed a generalised sense of discomfort / dis-ease overwhelmed me and, the night turned out to be one of tears, screams and bellowed expletives.

Restless legs took control after an initial burning sensation of sore tenderness took control of my toes, and that alongside of a tortuous throbbing ache in both knees and hips. Within a short time, a tenderness of the armpits lymph nodes began to rage alongside screaming aches in elbows and wrists. My mind seemed to be preoccupied with a relentless darkness as I sought for comfort and rest.

The darkness of the room created an overwhelming sense of isolation, in spite of the fact that my beloved was soundly sleeping beside me, almost oblivious to my cries to and against the Almighty as I tossed, turned and struggled to find a state of composure. The blessed, albeit temporary, release of sleep took many hours to attend to my needs.

Another day of rest is desperately sought and, I little care whether it’s opioid, prayer, or straightforward Mother Nature assisted.

The Stress of the Normal

So, five days after my birthday I was going to get around to spending /exchanging a couple of gift vouchers. My visits in to town are exceedingly rare, albeit just a few minutes drive (courtesy of ma belle chauffeuse) and scarcely longer via the regular bus service but, today, I had to be in town for an eye test in the early afternoon.

We quickly found a suitable free parking space and headed to the HMV shop, upstairs in the shopping mall. The layout of the store seemed rather random, to put it kindly, and the temperature in there felt more like a sauna and equally airless. Admittedly I was already freaked by the movement of people and traffic, albeit on a reasonably quiet afternoon for a town centre, and the rather bright lighting did little to alleviate my sensory overload.

I managed to find a CD that I’d noted down a few weeks ago, Joshua Redman “Still Dreaming” and also picked up a John Scofield / Pat Metheny album that complemented other CDs & vinyl in my jazz collection. In this same small section of the store I also picked up a cheap CD of Miles Davis ‘In a Silent Way’, my 1969 vinyl copy having been overlaid with a crackling surface after being overplayed on various turntables. Another album, Miles Davis ‘Bitches Brew Live’ performances from Newport Jazz Festival 1969 & Isle of Wight 1970 came at a very low price and was added to my basket. I couldn’t face up to any further searching around and felt an immense sense of relief to get out into the air.

A short amble through M & S demonstrated that it was possible to have a tolerably cool and airy sensation in a store, nor were their lights over bright. There followed a short walk down to the opticians in Boot’s store, where optician and optometrists promptly carried out the necessary tests. Last year the change in my vision was so slight it wasn’t worth replacing the current spectacles; on this occasion my right eye had become marginally more short-sighted and, there were early signs of cataracts developing in both eyes.

In retrospect, I realize that I shoudn’t have attempted to tackle more than one task during a visit to town; having spent much of my working life in or close to a town city centre, since 2003 I have rarely been into town more than a couple of times in any year. Any future purchases of CD, vinyl or DVDs will be done online.

memo to myself and others re chronic illness

I've just been reminded, once again, by a friend's misunderstanding whilst communicating via Messenger, of how much one loses when living with a chronic illness - in my case moderate ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis). 

What they had failed to understand is how impossible it proves / has proved to plan any events ahead. Even a meal out locally, with my beloved, can only be cofirmed at last minute and, even so, is an extremely rare occurrence. I have lost contact with most of those I had considered "friends" prior to succumbing to this illness, almost 15 years ago, and have had to rely, to a large extent on the proverbial mountain coming to me.

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!

just the start of another normal day

Where to start; how to define; what words can be used to describe another normal day. I wish to God I understood what is a normal day? Even my days, curbed by health restraints, proffer plenty of variety in terms of food ate, music listened to, DVD’s  viewed, even times of dining may vary, yet somehow they seem to belong to what could be considered a normal day.

This morning I arose from the duvet realm shortly after 10.00hrs, earlier than some but not much later than most days. Even before I left the bed, a throbbing ache in the sides of both knees caused a little discomfort which, strangely, felt like a painful hollowness between upper and lower components of the lower limbs. Nothing unusual there, apart from the degree of ache and discomfort, for this time of day; a mug of coffee and a bowl of cereal were definitely needed. Of course Piper, our beloved hound, greeted me with tail and rear portions wag and sway as he carefully directed me towards his doggy treat store.

So far so good, it’s just another normal day. Having breakfasted I settle down to read the tabloid-sized i-newspaper for fifteen minutes or so before acing wrists cried enough. After a little doing-nothing break, switched on my android tablet, for a cursory visit to twitter-land and newspaper summaries, surfing for about twenty minutes. Another caffeine intake required to keep me awake, followed by a further few minutes with the i-newspaper, only to have a discomforting sensation, tenderness of the lymph nodes, in the armpits. Time to move to the larger sofa, put my legs up and allow the music from radio 3 to wash over me; Piper swiftly leapt over my lower limbs to snuggle beside me.

Not many restful minutes passed before a throbbing discomfort in my toes demanded I put  some pressure on the soles and arches of my feet to somehow eliminate the toe-tingling sensation. Next, almost as a matter of routine, pains from the armpit had extended a nauseating discomfort to whole of upper limbs.

Yeah, I suppose it is just another normal day; shortly after 13.00hrs my first resort to painkillers (tramadol 2x 50 mg) since late yesterday evening (on that occasion alongside amitriptyline) as I prepared for my return to the bed zone. Of course by this time I have recourse to my usual pre-meal medication as I anticipate a little lunch-time bite to eat.

Amazing how hard one has to work in order to be busy doing nothing; for now I revel in the music zone, forget my minor worldly woes. For music, love and life, I give thanks. Just the start of another normal day!

ACHES and GAINS

Just when you think you’ve recovered from the roller-coaster ride, a sudden smack of reality makes you realize that you’ve stepped onto the ferris wheel and this time it’s supercharged. Stomach and oesophagus have never felt so close, a moderate underlying nausea takes on a more prominent role. The head feels giddy as if too much time has been spent on the ‘waltzer’, and knees, ankles and elbows throb as if stray balls from the coconut shy have found fresh targets.

You’ve maybe guessed it, I’m talking payback; a reasonable period of (partial) remission had almost persuaded me that life had been restored to normality. As I’m now into the fifteenth year since my collapse, succumbing to ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis), one would think I’d know better than to miscalculate my reserves of stamina. I’m not talking of any undue exertion, just twenty minutes of mowing the lawn with an electric powered mower seems to have knocked me back. Mind you, this additional exertion came at a time when I’m just coming to the end of a course of antibiotics and antimicrobials.

These additional medications had been prescribed as a result of a visit to A&E at the district hospital last Thursday evening, following a flare-up of diverticulitis (and probably gall bladder as well). There have been many occasions recently when I’ve felt as if my moderate ME had turned to a milder form but then, brainfog, alongside excruciating discomfort in upper and lower limbs, and nagging pains variably dispersed around the torso, randomly exert their authority.

Putting those ailments aside, I am fortunate that I am still able to enjoy listening to a wide range of music (via CD, radio and vinyl sources) and am generally able to accompany Piper (our beagle – podenco  rescue dog) and my beloved OH Helen on short evening walks. A few years ago there were occasions when it seemed / felt like an effort too far]just to walk the few yards to the corner of our road. I really miss it when I’m not able to manage these short walks but the love and attention, received and given, by Piper compensates more than a little, and I’m still amazed at the therapeutic value of this charismatic canine.

An additional source of joy is provided by not infrequent visits from our grandson Alexander, now in his ninth month of bringing and receiving an abundance of smiles to the house. Piper is intrigued by Alexander, even though he’s never sure of how to take the infant’s reciprocal interest; the boy stretches out to feel / stroke Piper but has already managed to grab his tail on one occasion as well as being drawn to his ears (always a sensitive part of the pooch’s anatomy).

if only ... ah ... if only

I'm just getting a little fed-up with the misery and deaths caused by the Tories austerity ideology. My health no longer permits me to participate, feet on the ground ... man the barricades style, in protest marches and demos, which only adds to the frustration!

Occasionally, an outburst of heartfelt light verse becomes a necessity ....

hence the following post (already posted - sans background on Mal's Factory) on my poetry blogs Mal's Factory and Archive Mined

if only i could be ... a Tory!

Night and Day and ... on and on

A night, plagued by both restless legs and a kind of strangulated tenderness emanating from the axillary lymph nodes, found me more exhausted on arising from the duvet realm, shortly after 10.00am, than I had been when I got myself into the bed 11 hours earlier. This did not bode well for the ensuing cold and damp morning and afternoon; that sense of foreboding proved quite apt.

Aches in wrists and elbows forced me to lay both laptop and tablet pc’s aside as a nausea inducing hollow ache in the armpits took control. I removed my outer garments and applied elbow and wrist supports in an attempt to alleviate the symptoms. The discomfort intensified ….

Anyway, the following poem resulted from this experience.

Poem and illustration both by yours truly

still rambling on ... and further words

Life races by, with a generous sprinkling of love, received, given and shared as the most vital portion of each day. I am blessed with a catholicity of musical taste, ranging from early music, through classical, romantic, all the way to contemporary; my taste in jazz extends from traditional New Orleans to freeform and experimental sounds. An appreciation of popular music, from the great American songbook, through folk, blues and rock, also provides me with much auditory pleasure.

Admittedly, my listening to music for the past several years is confined to vinyl, cd, radio, mp3 recordings, rather than the “live” experience. Since 2003, when I succumbed to ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis) I have been unable to cope with theatre, cinema, concerts and gigs, and rarely venture far from my home as shopping, travelling, and crowds, easily result in sensory overload. I am fortunate enough to manage an evening walk with our rescue dog Piper, which far exceeds my expectations / abilities from a few years ago. Piper both provides and receives an enormous degree of therapeutic affection and attention.

My greatest blessing is the love and support of my beloved OH, Helen, who manages to put up with me, even through my far too common periods of pain and frustration induced foul moods and vocal declamations.

Anyway, all this is by way of an intention to apologise for the irregular postings on my blog.

Even when postings are sparse, on this particular blog, you may well find some of my poetic utterances on my poetry and prose-poem blog Mal’s Factory – for those who don’t click on links, it is to be found at https://malsfactory.blogspot.co.uk

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.

INTACT – Virginity Restored

 It is with gratitude that I report the arrival of the engineer, well within the timeframe proffered yesterday. Apart from a phone call this morning confirming the arrangement, and an opportunity to cancel should we no longer require the visit, the engineer also contacted us when he knew that he should reach us within twenty minutes.

Of course we had access to the internet this morning, unlike yesterday, but bearing in mind the catalogue of underperforming, and even non-responding, events we have experienced over many months, I informed the engineer of these intermittent peculiarly slow ethernet speeds. He was as puzzled as I was about the slower speeds; had they been wireless ones it could sometimes make sense but over ethernet links…!!!

Anyway, he duly installed a (virginal) new hub and said that the one we had been using was the Super Hub, not even Super Hub 1; the newly installed hub is the Virgin Media Super Hub 3.

Hopefully, we will have no imminent need to trouble the Virgin’s Customer Services.

The Harlots Regress – just part of Branson's domain

Once again we’re having problems with our Internet connection, as supplied by Branson’s Harlot Media. For a few weeks we were having random brief losses of internet access even though connection to the hub was reasonably stable. On Thursday night the, by now not unfamiliar, “connected, no internet access” message appeared and re-booting the hub made little difference until, as if a miracle had occurred, the connection was quite arbitrarily restored.

Friday morning, on switching on the laptop a few new e-mail messages appeared. On following the link supplied, by a trusted merchant, I was surprised to receive the message that there was no internet connection. My first reaction was to try a different browser only to get the same result. On checking another pc I discovered that we had no internet access. I duly tried unplugging the hub and rebooting to no avail.

Next I contacted the 0800 number to check on internet status in the local area and was informed that there weren’t any problems. After several attempted re-boots I decided to contact the 150 number were they ran some tests after which they told me there were no problems but, then launched a further series of tests which they said would last up to ten minutes. Twenty minutes later, the problem not having being resolved, I once more contacted 150 and eventual was put through to a real live engineer of some kind. After answering a series of questions concerning account name etc, I was asked what date I paid my direct debit, to which I responded that I would require internet access to tell them that.  Another question followed for which I would have required internet access to give the correct answer. Security checks satisfactorily answered, the person on the other end of the line ran further tests and couldn’t find any problem.

At this end, the problem remained the same regardless of which pc or tablet I tried. I was eventually told to reset the hub and hold the pin in for a couple of minutes. Once again to no avail and, by this time the need to move to different parts of the house was playing havoc with my pain prone knees. After about 35 minutes of them running these checks they decided they would send an engineer on Saturday afternoon sometime between 12.00 – 4.00pm. They also commented that our hub was a rather old one, which caught me by surprise as I had assumed that the supplier would ensure that the equipment supplied would be up to the task. If it’s rather old, then surely, that is the ISPs problem and it shouldn’t be left to create problems for the end-user.

Wish I could say that it’s unusual to have any difficulties with our beloved ISP but, that wish remains upon its distant star. April of last year the problem was with our landline telephone, also part of the harlots domain (see: OfHEALTH and TAINTED VIRGINS ) a problem for which their response could only be described as dilatory. 

Later in the year for a considerable time I was getting speeds well below 20Mbps (Ethernet connection) on what was purportedly a 70Mbps service. I had considerable discussions with them regarding this problem via social media but the speeds temporarily improved so I duly thanked them. Not long after this we were upgraded to a 100Mbps service but, even here I’ve had occasions where the speed has once again dropped to the 20Mbps range, when checking via Ethernet connection, at different times of day and night to counter the prospect of it simply being a period of heavy usage. Needless to say, the wireless speeds at these times are even slower.

!9.10hrs: miracle of miracles we have an internet connection – the big question is how long? 

Considering past experiences going back to at least 2007 (see: AVIRGIN FAILS to provide a service ) I would be ill advised to cancel tomorrows visit from the engineer!

just in passing - albeit taking time

Adorned in loose fitting garments, shirt and unzipped fleece; of a sudden it felt like my armpit lymph nodes  were being strangled by a tourniquet. Strangely, although all garments felt oppressive, the only way to alleviate the nausea inducing discomfort (emanating from the armpits) is to tightly squeeze my upper arms against the sides of my torso whilst tightly clasping my hands behind my back. Admittedly, as so often with these sudden onset ailments, the armpit tenderness appeared almost simultaneously with excruciating aches in both wrists and elbows: the application of strong elasticated supports on wrists and elbows tend to alleviate the more extreme pain.

There follows a discomforted waiting game, whilst I curl myself up, or flail my limbs, into a position that distracts me from the nausea. Next, the debate with myself on whether to take some tramadol, or hope that the pain will dissipate itself!

Whatever activity I’m engaged in, albeit browsing a newspaper, or using a laptop, is of necessity terminated the instant any of these discomforts attack. 

Season's Greetings - from me to you

The EPSON saga continues .....

additional DMs from Epson & my response: 11.16hrs 20/12/17

Hi Malcom, In order to assist you can you please confirm where in the setup process the connection fails? do you have a WPS buttton on your router?

 this message sent 13 minutes ago from Epson UK

17m 13 minutes ago

 Epson UK

 I am sorry, the consmer pritners do not come with a USB included. Please see the following article regarding the USB cable: http://kb.epson.eu/article.aspx?article=1034&p=7 …

 this message sent 12 minutes ago from Epson UK

15m 12 minutes ago

 Malcolm Evison (my response)

 Yes, the hub has a WPS button - but tried that last night - same negative result! Just having emerged from bed (my active hours limited by chronic illness) will look at article about USB cable later on.

Malcolm Evison (my next response)

Yes, I did try using the A-B USB cable (much less than the 1.8 metre length) when initially struggling to set-up the tetchy machine for wireless use. Something odd is going on!

Malcolm Evison (my extra response)

Incidentally, don't your keyboards allow you to use the second L in the word Malcolm. Maybe your keyboards aren't up to scratch

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

P.S: this evening tried to print 1 15x10cm photo you maybe won't want to believe what happened next!

Malcolm Evison (DMd & tweeted @EpsonUK at 20.50hrs)

First time I've tried to print since all the faffing about - won't print as it can't find the printer (ethernet connected) - tried all pop-up suggestions but still failing to find the printer. All other items have and always do work with this hub! Won't connect wireless & lost existing connection.

Malcolm Evison‏ @sinnaluvva 18m18 minutes ago

@EpsonUK First time I've tried to print since all the faffing about - won't print as it can't find the printer (ethernet connected) - tried all pop-up suggestions but still failing to find the printer. All other items have and always do work with this hub! Won't connect wireless

Approx 15 minutes later via Epson diagnosis gadget finally told that there was a printer and it was ready to print - Epson machines seem to hate consumers!

At 22.40 hrs I have just sent the following DM to Epson UK - I do hope that they will not keep upsetting me with their temperamental machine. I have never before been fazed by the installation of any consumer electronics gizmo!

"after further faffing about - and many exhausting climbs upstairs - your diagnostic gizmo finally told me printer was connected and ready to print. Not sure whether it re-discovered the ethernet connection (it had lost) or has it found wireless (of which I'm doubtful) - you have aged an elderly person enormously!"

PRINCIPLES carry a COST

Because of HPs collusion in Israel’s Human Rights Abuses (see http://www.ipsc.ie/event/derry-iaw-2017-stop-hp-collusion-in-israels-human-rights-abuses-saturday-information-stall-ipsc }

I was unable to purchase another HP printer, although I’ve always been pleased with those I had previously purchased. As a result I purchased an Epson XP55 which has been the source of deleterious effects on my health (see https://sinnaluvva.blogspot.co.uk/2017/12/epson-woes-just-for-record.html }.

Sadly, having principles invariably entails a cost.

Whilst working as an accounts manager, late 1970s to mid 1980s, for a reputable furniture retailer, I refused to adjust invoice details, with reference to delivery addresses etc., in order to enable certain privileged business customers to avoid VAT payments on the items. This didn’t make for a happy working relationship with the stores general manager and, ultimately, led to my tendering my resignation.

Sadly, having principles entails a cost.

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.

When Purgatory Beckons

I’ve always heard about the road to hell being paved with good intentions and, have more recently discovered that another’s good intention can bring severe dis-ease to the one being benefited by their deed. The past few weeks have not been easy for me to cope with, the aftermath of my minor stroke and that of my step-daughter’s accident, the latter needing my beloved’s assistance to dress and shower herself.

Over many years I learned to live both in communal houses and alone, much of the time at peace with myself. In more recent years I have lived in relative peace and harmony solely alongside my beloved OH. As I’ve mentioned before, since the onset of my chronic illness I have become increasingly tetchy, even over apparently trivial matters.

This morning my semi-invalided step-daughter suggested that the dust in our (that of mine and my OH) bedroom  was rather un-healthy and, decided with her one (currently) usable arm to take the vacuum cleaner upstairs to do the cleaning. You can only imagine, or maybe not, my dismay at being told, by a young lady who has four cats romping about in and out of all rooms, that our bedroom was unhealthy! I had already been made to feel guilty at my relative inactivity when a person with one arm immobilised, and purportedly in intense pain, could manage domestic duties of a kind which my physical and emotional stamina levels require that I ration.

The final hump-breaking straw was her decision to mop the floor using a pot pourri scented thick disinfectant, as a result of which I later had to struggle to regain my balance as I took a slipper shod slide across part of the bedroom floor! Fortunately that struggle ended successfully but, it was yet a further warning that a good deed, if ill considered, is certainly a step into purgatory.

CHANTING PSALMS out of ANGER and FRUSTRATION

Currently, my temper is running on a very short fuse, swift to anger but sluggish in calming down. At its worst I end up upsetting those whom I love and even, at times, keeping temper simmering long after the immediate (sometimes trivial) cause for letting it loose has disappeared. There are many times my anger is justified especially when I look at the policies pursued by our Tory government, that of the US of A and, indeed, the governments and people of all nations that punish the vulnerable and worship private wealth. Very little regard seems to be paid to the unethical practices that have enabled that wealth accumulation in the first place!

My less justified outbursts usually occur when I am in rather acute pain and discomfort; one word out of place, from another party, can so easily release a vehement stream of verbal chastisement and abuse from yours truly. These are times when my response / reaction leaves me ashamed and guilty for the distress which I may have caused.

Having expressed that mea culpa I can move on to the more regular occasions when the air around me becomes filled with expletives and near blasphemy. The frequency with which limbs and torso are acutely and crushingly subjected to intense discomforting pain has recently increased, reverting to that state I experienced not long after ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis) first held me in its thrall. The main trouble is that the discomfort strikes so suddenly, whether in wrists, elbows, knees or elsewhere on the torso, it almost inevitably transforms the axillary lymph nodes into a discomforting, nausea inducing, dis-ease. During the night, as I futilely hope and pray for refreshing sleep, restless legs, painful feet, and lymph node tenderness compete for my attention, the only reaction that rears its head is a ferociously spitted out “Jesus Christ” followed by a torrent of expletives as I vainly attempt to find a comfortable position either in or out of bed.

This morning, as I checked out my Facebook homepage, I stumbled upon this quote from Blake Chastain – “Sometimes swearing is just a minimalist psalm”.

So, even when I find it difficult to pray, I find myself enthusiastically chanting Psalms.

In the Book of Psalms there is so much anger and despair amongst the ritual hymns but, none as succinct as the involuntary F-word that spews from my mouth when pain and discomfort is at its keenest.

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.

Gratitude for the NHS

Saturday and Sunday I still felt somewhat shocked and shaken, by the fall I had on Friday evening, as full sensation and feeling hadn’t yet returned to my right foot and ankle. As I stood up it still felt as though I had a spongy platform sole on that foot.

My beloved rang my GPs surgery first thing on Monday morning and, she explained to them what the paramedics recommended, so the Wednesday appointment offered wasn’t soon enough. About half-an-hour after that, a practice nurse ‘phoned me back and, when I explained the situation, I was soon granted an appointment with Dr Desha at 12.40pm. Although there was a delay before getting in to see the doctor she was extremely thorough in her examination of me, blood pressure, reflex, touch, response to hot & cold in the foot etc. She prescribed 4 dispersible aspirin to be taken immediately, Clopidogrel and Amlodipine, to be taken each morning, to deal with my high blood pressure, and prepared a referral to the TIA clinic at Harrogate District Hospital.

As the time was getting close to that for the House Group / Bible Study chez nous, my beloved left me waiting for my prescription at the local pharmacy whilst she went home for the car to collect one of the attendees at our meeting. Sat in the over-chilled air conditioned pharmacy I suddenly felt quite shaky and weepy. The pharmacist kindly phoned my beloved to see if she would bring the car around to collect me.

The house group had already started in the meantime and I was eager to participate rather than sit on my own, feeling broodingly sorry for myself. Around 3.00pm, mid-way through the meeting, the ‘phone rang and, it was the hospital informing me that I had an appointment at the TIA clinic at 10.00am Tuesday.

Next morning I saw Dr Brotheridge at the clinic and, as the symptoms had not completely cleared within 24 hours it couldn’t be classed as a TIA but was likely some kind of minor stroke. Within an hour I’d had a CT brain scan done and, on returning to the clinic he informed me there was no sign of a bleed and the brain looked normal and healthy. He also said that the medication my GP had prescribed was exactly right and he would expect me to remain on that. Meanwhile an appointment was made for me to have an ultrasound of my Carotid and Aortic arteries at 1.00pm; this left time for ma belle chauffeuse and I to pop home for a cuppa and a snack, but before that we had time to go for some blood tests which my GP had requested.

The attention given, and the efficiency, in each department was really special.