annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And pause

It took me a huge amount of determination to get myself to the care home this morning to accompany ED to the hospital to discuss the operation on Wednesday [too many to's in that sentence but I can't rework it now, soz]. I managed to generate massive anxiety and convinced myself that I wouldn't be able to do anything else this week or next (apart from Stepfie's funeral), so started in bright and early cancelling everything - a day out with an old school friend, gone, my first two sessions as a writing mentor, postponed...

Sorry but I have to stop here and report that the stupid cat is sitting so close to the fire that sparks keep landing on her and the room reeks of burning hair but she ain't bovvered.

img_4644

 

When we arrived at the care home (Bloke came too), we were told that ED wouldn't be able to come to the appointment as she needed to wait to be seen by the district nurse (I think they're called community nurses now) for reasons I don't need to go into, so off we went, me Bloke and N, to have this fucking Best Interests meeting. I must say, the consultant was very pleasant and did listening as well as talking so gets a gold star at once for that alone. He said there are three options.

1. Do nothing. ED keeps her kidney stones and almost certainly grows some more but doesn't have the risk of a general anaesthetic. She will be in more or less constant pain.

2. Keep replacing the stent every three to four months to allow free passage of urine from kidney to bladder and prevent back-ups and infection. Short operation, about ten minutes each time, but frequent unpleasantness of all that plus kidney stones likely to grow in size and number. Constant pain.

3. Have the operation to remove by laser the largest one that was blocking the kidney, plus probably the other three small ones while he's there (he didn't promise that for sure but his nurse said he almost always does). Go in through the catheter place, so no incision but big (2-3 hour) anaesthetic, risk of infection. He said not probable, but possible. I said what were the chances of her MS going like this 1,000-1? 10,000-1? I can't remember, but it was most unlikely and yet here we are, so don't ask me to think of odds and risk. Fuck probability. He understood where I was coming from. But what can we do? She can't be having fucking kidney stones forever more, so we agreed to go for it, which terrifies me, but I have to accept that this is the best option. For my American pals I should point out that there is no financial incentive for him to choose any particular course of action - he gets paid a salary.

Then we discover that the operation has been postponed already* - not on Wednesday, but December 5th, which is probably good as her pressure sore will be more healed, but the waiting is unfuckingbearable. As before, they expect it to be an overnighter but they're booking a bed in intensive care just in case. Which is not the kind of reassurance you want but it's as good as it's going to get.

*NHS being fucked over.

After that I went to yoga, walking through the lovely city, unwilling to give up my steps. My photo-a-day prompt was 'made me smile' which not much did to be honest. So I took this pic of one of my favourite glimpses of the sea, just as the sun was going down. I've probably taken pics from there on at least six different occasions, but fuck it. I did my meditation, I went to the hospital, I walked 6235 steps, I went to yoga, I spent two hours this afternoon with my girl and I took a bloody picture. That's Monday done.And I've written a blog. Go me. Maybe I'm getting to like wordpress. I'll still post in diaryland and journalscape - the latter till it vanishes at least.

 

img_46431

 

I am grateful for: N, manager of care home, cool, calm and kind; a day off tomorrow as I cancelled everything and there's no art group for staff training; little blasts of joy from things like sunsets and flocks of birds suddenly taking off, silhouetted against a darkening blue sky; bed; the silence of being the only person up at 1.32 am.

 

Sleep tight. Good luck America. We're all on your side.

1:41 a.m. - 08.11.16

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

Jan 21st - 22.01.20
Jan 20th - 20.01.20
Jan19th - 20.01.20
Jan 18th - 19.01.20
Jan 16th - 17.01.20

other diaries:

strawberrri
orangepeeler
jarofporter
kelsi
stellarrobot
marywa
dangerspouse
blujeans-uk
ladyofjazz
SWORDFERN
narcissa
newschick
life-my-way
joistmonkey
stepfordtart
simeons-twin
annanotbob
outer-jessie
ottodixless
manfromvenus
melodymetuka
jim515
hitch-hike
floodtide
boombasticat
aliannmil

Site Meter