I know, I know, I haven’t blogged for ages and the promise of every Sunday seems to have gone out of the window but from now on let’s just say I will blog when I have something I think is worthwhile saying. It’s easier and takes the pressure off.
So we’re officially into British Summer Time, the clocks have adjusted (even if our inner ones haven’t quite yet) and this weekend is Easter. The magazines are full of floaty clothes in pastel colours and the newspapers are full of election news. I must remember to apply for a postal vote soon.
The hellos I refer to are my family. My Dad and Step Mum spent their wedding anniversary with me which was lovely of them. I’d booked a table in a lovely pub/restaurant which we eventually found despite Dunmow’s famous phantom roundabout which doesn’t appear on Google maps or some sat nav systems. Always fun to arrive red faced and half an hour late when visiting a new place. Grr. Mind you the only person who was freaking out was me. Is there something about hitting a certain age that means these things don’t bother you any more?
My smashing big brother has been a couple of times, chip pan always carefully placed in the back of the car. There’s something so special I can’t explain about the two of us standing in my tiny kitchen knocking up some delicious meal and instinctively passing each other a spatula or the salt while chatting away. I cherish it.
A truly lovely woman died on 27th February 2015 and I was humbled that her partner came to see me soon afterwards and we had lunch. It was a little stilted because I think both of us didn’t quite know what to say and were so scared we’d say the wrong thing or reach for a hug when it wouldn’t have been appreciated but in the end I think her visit went ok and I was so very pleased she’d visited. The lovely woman? She was called Eva Hudson. Google her if you’d like and you’ll see what I can’t put into words.
When I got my prognosis I was allocated a Palliative Care Nurse from a local hospice. It’s a heck of a job and a heck of a relationship built on trust mainly I think. I’d had mine for about a year, just over, and she was off sick all this year. You can imagine how happy I was when she came for a home visit the week before last. I realised after a few months the relationship would need rebuilding. I had new symptoms to discuss and wanted to catch up. You probably can’t imagine how I felt when she told me she was leaving the hospice and this was her last visit. I understand people move on from jobs of course I do and there’s never a good time – this was a particularly bad one though. Oh well I met her replacement last week. It will take time to build up trust and some sort of relationship but we’ll see. Do I sound a little fed up with that situation? Yes well I was a bit to be fair.
So the new symptom and the new word. The symptom is bloating. My tummy is huge and uncomfortable – very uncomfortable. There’s just not enough space in there for my organs and whatever else is going on. My doctor (my local surgery continue to be just wonderful) has had a prod as has my new Palliative Nurse and they think its probably ascites. (yes there’s the new word to put in my bumper book of cancery words). Fluid basally. Lots and lots of fluid that at some point will need to be drained – and then drained again when it comes back. It’s painful, uncomfortable and makes doing normal things like stair climbing a chore again. Can you tell I’m not keen?
Right, sorry gang, you’ve had a right whiney one today haven’t you? Sorry about that. I promise I’m still finding plenty to have a laugh about and be grateful about but I wanted to blog this afternoon and this is what came out!!
Off for a bath now, then I can smell I’ve got a roast dinner cooking (Lordy I love my helpers so much!!)
Catch you later, Ripely out