News of my death is premature

Head Rambles Posted on by

Yup. Hospital this morning again.

At this rate it would be easier if I just moved in. I seem to spend more time in there than I do at home, not to mention all the motoring.

But I would rather be dead than go back back into that fucking place again.

But I suppose I would possibly be dead if I were back in there. They have a habit of bringing dead people there. Personally I would prefer to be laid out on the kitchen table. Maybe I should register that desire as my dying wish? I kind of fancy having a good old Irish wake. Lots of whiskey and general carousing with drunkenness and a few fights. A wake isn’t a good one unless there’s a fight or two. There should also be some music. I mean people playing instruments and not just playing records.

My father had a sort of wake. He wasn’t present but the drink was there in copious quantities and the house was packed. I don’t remember any singing but it was still a good wake.

My mother definitely didn’t have a wake. She didn’t really have a funeral either. After she died she was carted off to a hospital somewhere so students could practice cutting her up or something. As a result there was no funeral because there was no body, so we just had a sort of memorial service thing. Very bland and no music. A year or so later they had finished cutting her up and all the medical students knew my mother inside out [literally] and we were given the body back again. We couldn’t hold a funeral then because she had died over a year before and that would really confuse people, So we just stuck her in the ground and didn’t tell anyone.

I suppose the ultimate aim of all these hospital visits is that I don’t end up dead though I have noted that the cancer wing is conveniently located beside the morgue.

So I’m not complaining.

And I have to return for another visit tomorrow.

 

Having a gas time

Head Rambles Posted on by

We had a real emergency recently during Storm Darragh.

We had no gas.

No gas means no tea. That is serious.

Soon after getting hitched oh so many decades ago, we bought a tent. One of those big yokes with bedrooms and an awning out front. Naturally we bought all the trimmings; a table, chairs, lights and a gas stove.

Our first camping trip was a bit of a disaster. I enjoyed it but Herself didn’t. I was told in no uncertain terms that camping was out of the question in the future.

I sold the tent.

We were left with the remnants – the table, chairs and the gas stove. Over the years the table and chairs wore out, collapsed and were skipped. the only thing left was the little two ring gas stove. That yoke gave us our money’s worth and came on many holidays and also acted as an emergency cooker during a power cut.

As I mentioned before, finding a refill was not easy. It was Daughter who came up with a possible solution – a shop in Skobieville that I had never heard of. I went over there today. The shop is at the back of an industrial estate which explains why I had never heard of it.

I got a cylinder of gas!

I tried it when I got home. It worked perfectly!

Bring on the next power cut!

 

Just a little spot

Head Rambles Posted on by

I had another jaunt to St Vincent’s Hospital yesterday.

This time they decided to spare me that crack-of-dawn trick which they usually pull. This time they dumped me into the Friday evening traffic chaos. There is a strange phenomenon here that from midday Friday onwards all the roads out of Dublin grind to a complete standstill. Are they all heading off somewhere for the weekend? Does anyone work on a Friday afternoon?

Anyhows I arrived for my appointment. I had the obligatory hour wait and then I was called in.

Basically it was just a catch up session which gave me the opportunity to demand a load more medication for the pains. They gave me a new script which was okay but I’m dubious it will do anything.

One thing the Prof mentioned was my latest scan results. This apparently resulted in a mixed bag. He raved about my progress as apparently everything post operation is a roaring success. they are delighted with me. And then he mentioned as a little by-the-way that the scan had showed something in my lung. They weren’t sure what it is but it’s half a centimeter in diameter, whatever it is. Leastwise sometime in the new year they are going to call me in and they’ll ram a camera and scalpel down my gullet. Not to worry, says they, they’ll give me a bit of an antithetic. i am not reassured.

Needless to say a portion of the session was spent admiring my headband. This is the multicoloured strap that Daughter made that rings my head and holds up the glasses. Prof never fails to admire it. Artistic and ingenious, he says. Who am I to argue?

I took the new meds earlier. i have just had the worst blast of pain yet. it had me curled on the floor begging for mercy and lasted for about three very long minutes.

i knew that prescription was useless.

 

Regressive progress

Head Rambles Posted on by

Life continues apace.

Little is happening around the Manor. The only noticeable change is that the cancer is starting to make a nuisance of itself.

The pain is just that – a fucking pain in the neck. It started a while back and has progressed to a point where I am thoroughly pissed off. I have tried Solpadine, Nurofen, Paracetemol. Morphine [prescribed] and Solpadol [also prescribed]. None of them work with the possible exception of Solpadine which basically makes the pain a little more bearable.

The pain is in the side of the face. It feels like all the teeth in the left had side of the jaw have rotted to the root, exposing the nerves. It’s constant and every now and then sends sends a jab of severe pain which usually makes me grunt, moan or jump, which scares Herself. The only problem with this description is that I don’t have any rotten teeth, or indeed any teeth there.

The problem is really in the jaw joint just below the ear. This means that if I try opening my mouth to eat I get a screaming pain in the jaw. Luckily it’s just an initial thing so once I get over that I can eat reasonably normally.

Normal sleep now is generally a thing of the past. I get to sleep quickly enough but then wake around three or four with no chance of going back to sleep again. So i just get up and potter around the kitchen or doze in the armchair. I haven’t worked out why I can sleep in the armchair but not in bed. I have a sort of theory that it’s down to position – vertical okay, horizontal bad.

I thought this was a week free of appointments just to give me a rest, Yesterday morning I got a text reminding me I had an appointment on Friday [tomorrow]. This came as a surprise as they hadn’t made an appointment. I tried phoning to see if it was a mistake but couldn’t get through. An hour or so later I got another text telling me that an appointment had been made for tomorrow. They were just getting ahead of themselves. At least I can tell them about the latest pain.

I’m not complaining. This isn’t a plea for sympathy. it’s basically just a note to myself on the progress of things.

i really should go back to writing a journal?