Thursday, May 11, 2017

My mind was made up for me.

So three years ago, I had a CT scan for the deviated septum and because it wasn't something that seemed important, I thought another year would be okay.  Except now it is affecting my balance badly.  Usually one bad fall a year and ring the Ambos who bring the blow up cushion and I'm right.  It's so annoying to hurt yourself trying to get up than it does crashing to the ground.  
It 's a joy to remember to turn to the right, turning off the kitchen light turn to the light in the lounge first, sit on the bed before standing and don't cover the right nostril or oxygen doesn't get in.
Bite the bullet, sister, and get thee an appointment at the specialist and I wasn't expecting 30th May but we have it.  Another CT scan, blood test but no fasting test because of some other medication that sends glucose all the way to the moon.  I still have the 2014 scan so they can tell the difference.  Just as long as no one decides to stick a sharp thing up my nose for a biopsy while I am still conscious.

It wasn't a flying leap out of the back door, I just put recycle paper in that bin, turned to grab the walker to get the mail and I was sitting on the bottom step. I didn't want to scratch the skin on my legs on the concrete so I swung around and managed to up myself to the next step.   You all know by now the rules of knee replacements, never sit with bum lower than knees unless you're some little fairy like thing that can float upwards.  I could hold the walker but trying to pull myself up with that would just bring it down on the top of my head.  I needed two strong blokes to lean on the walker and I'd have been up in a trice.  Instead I had to crawl inside to get to the phone and crawling across the steel rails of the sliding door is not fun.  And I mean bum crawl, not on knees, that's a screaming crawl with loads of swearing.  So I manage the door to the carpet and plonk for a moment.  Oh my giddy aunt, the floor doesn't look too bad when standing up but at cat level, it's appallllling.  Never let anyone tell you a short hair cat does not shed.  From floor level it looked like spider webs hanging off everything and believe me I''m trying not to look down a week later.

I should have pulled a cushion to the floor before I rang because the bones started to feel like they were trying to slice through the blubber after a while.  I always get guilty ringing in case an ambulance is urgently needed elsewhere but they just by-pass me and ring to let me know.  It's a shame they didn't pass on the message to the three ambos who turn up that I needed the blow up cushion, I had to wait another half hour.  That was after this little creature took my blood pressure with a crushing that would have done Arnie proud.  That was the arm that must have hit the sliding door and I hadn't noticed but do I have a bruise that could outdo a sunset at Broome Beach.
Next lot turn up.  No small blow up cushion, we have the lifeboat off the Titanic again and because of the moronic nbn who need to get into my sewing room, right in the corner, the lounge is crowded with "STUFF".  Impossible to move the coffee table.  So she spreads it all out and says could I slide down and on to the rubber.  Oh no problemo except for the three large pipe openings where the hose goes in to blow it up.  What she really meant was, let's go for it and rip you a new one.

Here we go and tell the experts, roll that in half, I will roll over as far as I can towards the coffee table or if you like the Carpathia and you can slide the flat rubber behind me up to my shoulders. I will then roll over and you can pull it straight and then blow it up.  Stares of surprise, the fat lady is right.
20 seconds later and I'm ascending and I say another 4 inches but why,  well by the time I get to the bottom of this to stand up I'm going to have squished it right down so she does that and I squish it down to the right size and stand up, walk over to my chair and sit.  They are always so surprised that I have not hurt myself but I'll hurt tomorrow.  Another blood pressure test which is 160 over I'm not telling you and they're off.

Cat gets up on the chair, stares into my eyes and asks if my can opening hand is broken.  Bloody get up and open his tea.  I'm thinking of my tea but decide not to bend over to find the gin.  I do decide to ring the doc and make an appointment for the morning.  Then I make a promise that if all this STUFF is going to be hanging around I'd better make it tidy so for the last week I've been playing with fabric and throwing out STUFF.
Arm is still glowing sunset.  My mother has been told that anywhere near the 30th, a near death experience will not keep me by her side.  The balance on the left side is actually bothering me especially after this week when I bent down to pick up a safety pin which went straight into my foot and I backed up to the toilet and jammed the foot on top of the toilet roll and sat until it stopped bleeding.  Bravely I showered, got out, towelled down and I'm bleeding again.  The towell was rough and I'd rubbed the fine skin too hard.
Bedroom, throw myself onto the bed, bandage up the leg and then deal with the foot.  Do you know how hard it is to hold a small torch, mirror and bandaid in one hand while trying to find a small hole that doesn't want to be found.  I managed, better than cutting down on this blog post.

My stars said I would have a great month, my Tarot said straight ahead, all will be well, my Angel cards said happy addition to the family....What?? but that was the engagement and she has asked me to bead part of her dress.  Sharp beading needles, white lace, hope next month's astrology is good.

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