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Showing posts with the label illness

Back Out

I was just trying to sit down and it went. Went where? What went? Gone walkabout. My back. I heard a sound that resembled something being crunched, "crrrck," and I could not stand up. Then the memory was only of pain. I must not fall down, I must not fall down, I said to myself. If I fell here and lose consciousness, no one would find me for another, hmm, ten hours. Managed to get to the computer to send a couple of messages, then thought that lying down would help. It helped only insofar as Radio Four sent me to sleep and I forgot the pain for a while. Then I managed to have a phone conversation with husband. Until that point my fear was how do I get my son home from school? Do I call the school and ask them to ask another parent to send him home? Do I request a staff member to make sure he got across the road safely? Then what happens when he gets home? Could I get to the door to open it? What a relief it was that husband said he would come home to pick the son up. Meanwhil

NHS - Putting Patients Last

Is it coincidental that on this Saturday morning, me groggy from last night's responsibility of hosting an "open house" to members of my church, that I should receive an update from Civitas with reviews of their recent publication Putting Patients Last ? (See eg this .) Earlier this week I had phoned two hospitals to try to re-schedule two appointments. I had been given really awkward times during this summer break when I am a full-time carer for my young son. No, they cannot re-schedule, because it would mess up their six-week targets. In other words, if I don't accept the appointment given, then we all suffer. So I had to make some rather complicated childcare arrangements. Could this policy be a good thing? Last Thursday I turned up just before my appointed 6.05pm and found that I had gone to the wrong hospital. Yes, I felt like a complete idiot. This was because I was seen at one hospital and expected the MRI to be done at the same hospital. It didn't occur to

I can stand up straight!!

This morning I meditated on the goodness of my Lord. This time last week I could not stand up straight. I was walking around bent over. We figure it was my attempt to put the washing on the line first thing in the morning that did it. A basket of wet laundry is quite heavy after all, for me at least. That is why I once went into an awful strop at Toddlers when there were effectively just two people putting out all the toys and equipment. I could not stand back and not help, but I knew that if I did I would have massive problems the following day. For months we could not understand why I found it so painful to get out of bed on Saturday mornings. We decided that it was the lifting and bending over, etc, on Friday Toddlers that did it. Any way, so I was at CenterParcs, OK with cycling bent over, but walking rather awkwardly. We brought our microwave wheatbag/hot water bottle. It was there on my back pretty much the whole day. Then I slept on it. Tuesday morning I had this fear: what if I

Appointment to see the neurologist

Yay! I've been given an appointment to see someone at the neurology department some time in July. My GP ran all the tests and found nothing wrong with me, but I am still getting the numbness in both my hands (usually when I sleep) and we both want to know that it is not the onset of some degenerative nerve disease. They now have this 'choose and book' system. One is given a long list of hospitals we could go to (previously one could go to the one decided by the GP, I suppose). We then check them out online, see how long their waiting list is, and try to book an appointment. The hospital I chose did not have an online booking system, so I had to ring up. The hospital had not issued any dates. So it could be two months or twice that. Who knows? I was told that if the hospital does not contact me within two weeks, then I must go back to the GP for advice. What? Go back to the GP? Do you know how difficult it is to get an appointment to see my GP? So I put it down in my diary t

This swine fever business

It's a bit like the British troops in Singapore pointing their guns in a southerly direction and the Japanese troops attacked from their north, via Johore, on their push-bikes. I was talking about the bird flu a lot and now we hear the pandemic is of swine flu. My husband is permanently on immuno-suppressant and you can understand some of the anxiety in our household. He also goes to work on the Tube every day. He is very vulnerable. The authorities have been promoting the use of tissue paper, something about binning it after we've blown our nose. My instinctive feel (rightly or wrongly) is used tissue paper left in open bins are just as great a health risk. Of course I have vested interests. I want people to buy my lovely organic cotton hankies (now with embroidery!!). The thing is if one is not mindful of one's hygiene, paper tissues and hankies are equally bad. At least, one's cloth hankies are usually isolated in one's pockets. I remember my first impression of

Here comes the Potters

We have not changed our family name, but 'potter' is a good alternative. We spent the Easter Term break doing what potters do, pottering, or should that be what potterers do, in which case the headline should read "Here comes the Potterers". We've never had the guts to get away at Easter. Husband had been a regular at A&E for three or four Easter weekends in a row. Last year we managed to stay away. This year we kept clear. Thank God! But husband did manage to get away for two whole weeks from work (yay!) and we pottered. Caught up with son's godmother. Pottered. Had son's mate over for a sleepover. Pottered. Took them to the Imperial War Museum. Pottered. Went to Kew Gardens. Pottered. Went to Stratford on Avon. Pottered. Now we're back! But life won't return to 'normal' till Thursday when son returns to school. Point is: there is so much to do in this great big country. So sometimes a bit miffed by the working parents at school who co

Arthritis

We did something unusual this year. We took off to mum-in-law's the week before Christmas. It was a short, pleasant visit. Amidst the doom and gloom I had to fight my own battles. On the Friday before Christmas my GP told me rather nonchalantly that I have arthritis. Nothing much we could do, it seems. Physiotherapy was prescribed and if I am lucky (lucky??) I might be seen by a physio six weeks down the road and he/she might be able to prescribe exercises to prevent the arthritis from getting worse. Ouch! Surely I am too young to get arthritis? GP said he's had arthritis since he was 32. Was that supposed to cheer me up? Apparently my kind of arthritis has to do with 'things' growing from my spine affecting the spinal cord. This was causing numbness in my fingers, leading to an x-ray which confirmed it. Well, if my body can make boney material where there isn't supposed to be, does that mean that I am in no danger of suffering osteoporosis then? Dunno. Actually I w

Hay fever, cold, virus infection

Husband came back from work on Tuesday looking rather rough. One eye was bloodshot. He went to bed early. We both had a difficult night. I was up blowing my nose, struggling to breathe, etc. He was up counting the hours to the next lot of pain-killers. Next morning he was aching all over and so stayed in bed. It is difficult enough when a husband who has been as healthy as he could be suddenly finds himself not able to get out of bed. But I found that I was now also full of cold and feeling extreme tiredness. So after school drop-off I too went to have a snooze to make up for the rather sleepless night we had. I tried to get life back to 'normal' as much as I could. But husband appeared to be deteriorating and at one point was groaning in some pain. So it was decided that we needed a doctor to call. But it was "too late" for our GP practice to send a doctor. We had to wait for some three hours till "after hours" for the out-of-hours Harmoni doctor to call. W

An invite ... to make an outpatient appointment!!!

I recently got back in touch with a school friend. I remember us fondly as -- amongst other memories -- wearers of tooth-braces. It was like a badge of honour back then. I had my regular visits with the orthodontist and was told after each visit when I should next visit. Then I'd go to the nurse with her big diary and she'd flip the pages to four weeks or six months after and we'd fix an appointment, making sure that it did not clash with a band practice. She would write the date and time on my appointment card and I went home to note that date on my own calendar, diary, whatever. If, for whatever reason, I could not make the appointment, I rang to say, "Please could you re-schedule?" That way my slot was freed up for other people (especially emergencies) and I could rest assured that nobody's time was being wasted. Today my husband received a letter "An Invitation to make an Outpatient Appointment in --- Department" it said. My husband has a chronic

Christmas in Devon

This is the first time ever that I’m spending Christmas at mum-in-law’s house. I was really looking forward to a 'restful' time as recent poor-ish health has made me irritable and quite depressed at one point. It was nice that we could look out of the window and see sheep wandering on the Devon hill-side. When we did go out, it was not unusual to see tractors (real ones, not Chelsea versions) holding up long lines of traffic. There was no internet service. Ah.... There was also a lot of food. We had brought with us a lot of fruit from our weekly organic fruit bag, not wanting it to go to waste. My ‘job’ on Boxing Day was to make a fruit salad. With all that rich food, ultra-sweet Christmas puddings and all that, husband and I thought a refreshing and detox-ing fruit salad might be a good idea. So it was a bit strange, as far as I am concerned, that mum-in-law kept asking whether she needed to make a (sugar) syrup for the fruit salad. No, I said. And thought, 'Syrup on fresh

Have a go at the minister ... again

I remember once sitting at church in Singapore and felt myself getting hotter and hotter under the collar. After the sermon I marched up to the preacher to say, "There wasn't ANY thing in your sermon for the single person." The following week he told the congregation, "Last week, SP came up to me to say .... So this is what I have to say to the single person...." Living in a 'family-friendly' culture, the singles can be forgotten even at church. Last week I did it again, sort of. I've been having some health problems. My husband was sorting out the screen projector for the service. The topic for the sermon was: How does God heal today? "You're not going to give the example of the woman who was bleeding for 12 years, are you?" I asked the minister. "Uh, well, yes I could have chosen that story from about 3 million examples, but no, I'm not using that story." "Well, I was just saying to [husband], so many male preachers

Non-stick uniforms

Do you, like me, take your children's uniforms out of the washing machine only to see them sort of 'stand' on its own and wonder what sort of material it is made of? No matter how much they have been wrung in the washing machine, they are still wearable without ironing. Convenience to you and me perhaps. But something about these uniforms scare me. To make anything 'iron-free' is to make it 'non-stick' so that creases do not set in. Non-stick means using that stuff they have been using to coat your pots and pans. My son is moving from short shorts to long trousers next year and I cannot bear to think of all that non-stick uniform next to his bare skin. But where can one get old-fashioned school uniforms these days? Well some 'research' came up with Clean Slate , for organic cotton (yay!) fair trade (better still) schoolwear. Parents should be aware (and wary?) of the PFOA (perfluorooctanoic acid) in the family of PFCs (perfluorinated chemicals) used

Organic Milk

Really pleased to read this piece 'Organic milk is healthier, scientists say' in The Times . My husband and I were just mulling over how my hayfever this year has been 'so good'. Apart from three really bad days, it has been tolerable. We don't know how much this is down to our 'detox' in the last six to seven years switching to organic food where possible. Back to Organic-Ally .

Hayfever Update (who cares?)

Hayfever bad over last weekend. It was so bad last Friday I used up all my hankies (could not turn them around quickly enough). Even borrowed some of my son's old hankies. When even these ran out, I had to resort to paper. Big mistake. Nose was already pink from constant pressure of nose-blowing. Within minutes of using paper, nose turned a bright red. It was painful and I had to take to bed. Sunday morning was still bad and I had to take to bed instead of going to church. Monday morning, met my ladies for prayer as usual and they prayed for some relief for me. Found myself saying, 'It's not that bad because I know it's not going to last forever.' Have been trying a new regime now for the week: (1) wipe nose with soft cloth hankie (organic cotton of course), (2) smear Vaseline all over nose area to prevent chafing and inside nostrils to trap pollen, and (3) slick on some Vicks Vapourub if necessary to clear the air channels. High pollen count in the last few days bu

Stomach Ulcers and Barry Marshall

Dr Barry Marshall has just been awarded a Nobel Prize for Medicine for his work (with colleague Robin Warren) in the research of stomach ulcers. Having injected himself with the bacterium Helicobacter pylori , Dr Marshall developed the symptoms of stomach ulcers and then proceeded to treat himself with antibiotics. I've come across the name Barry Marshall about ten years ago when I saw a documentary featuring his work. I was interested because my selfless mother nearly died from stomach ulcers back in the 1980s. Thankfully her doctor managed to control her condition by drugs, but she was then put on a very expensive drug for years. Dr Marshall's finding suggested that sufferers of stomach ulcers could have lived in poverty at some point where a combination of poor nutrition and bad hygiene could have allowed the bug to enter the body. The bug could lay dormant for years and manifest itself only years later. Mum fitted this profile exactly. During the Japanese Occupation, Mum,