Oh, I've been gimping around painfully (and avoiding work) for much of the day. But I've finally managed to get a little bit accomplished. I managed to find a ride to choir rehearsal tonight, so that makes my life a little easier. And, steroids or no steroids, I shall have a glass of the house red with the dinner that a lovely fellow parishioner made and brought to me. There are blessings in all of this, and getting to know others (and eat yummy food that I couldn't fix for myself) is a big one.
I am in Ukland, but my walking has degenerated. (And this morning the cab ride to the National Gallery took almost two hours; my budget is going to be shot to hell.) But I’m here, so I shall persevere. Thank you for asking!
Well, there has been a change of plans: The mother of the female half of the couple I’m staying with died during the night, and we are going home tomorrow. As my walking is even more painful this morning, there is no possibility that I can stay on my own. (This has been the most expensive visit to the National Gallery EVER.) Going home sooner will, at least, allow me to seek further treatment.
Back in my hippie days we used to tell each other to keep on truckin', which evolved into, "Keep on, keepin' on." That's what comes to my mind when I read Rossweisse's posts, she just keeps on keepin' on -- and that's the most awesome thing, ever.
Thank you, Twilight! (We’re still going to tour the state rooms at Buckingham Palace this afternoon. At least I’ll have one totally new experience on this trip.)
Well, there has been a change of plans: The mother of the female half of the couple I’m staying with died during the night, and we are going home tomorrow. As my walking is even more painful this morning, there is no possibility that I can stay on my own. (This has been the most expensive visit to the National Gallery EVER.) Going home sooner will, at least, allow me to seek further treatment.
Lord, have mercy (and <votive> for the lady who passed away overnight)!
My friends are going to keep the more portable wheelchair, “because we never know.” I don’t think I’m interested in the electric one, but I may have to do something - my walking has deteriorated further just on this trip.
I have a friend whose post-stroke electric wheelchair has given her independence and range, including foreign trips. It also lifts some of the burden from the devoted husband.
It may seem cumbersome from the outside, but I get the impression that once you’re in it - chariot of the gods.
Ordinary wheelchairs are a workout to push (and carry, folded, up and down stairs). There's a reason electric wheelchairs are popular. They also mean you're in control, not the person pushing the wheelchair.
Judgemental people will get all huffy when you get up and walk, because there's this assumption that you should only have a wheelchair if you cannot walk at all, rather than can only walk a few steps. Having observed judgementalism in action only this week in the supermarket.
I could have used one yesterday when my ankle kept trying to dislocate; had to send son round the grocery store while i waited up front with the checkbook. There was a scooter thingy but I havent got the guts to face universal judgement for being a) fat and b) able to walk a few steps. Hopefully today the joint will behave and i'll go back and finish the shopping.
After waiting all day for a response, I finally heard this evening from the surgeon about my situation. He's "willing to operate," but can't give me any assurances that another procedure will help. I'm willing to take the chance - being in pain and unable to walk may be inevitable, but I'm not going down without a fight. So I'll call the scheduler in the morning and hope that they can get me in this week. (Lord, I need another, preferably cheaper, hobby.)
I can heartily recommend mountain biking. While the common understanding is that "it's as addictive as cocaine and about twice as expensive", it may still qualify as cheaper. Additionally, the incidence of shattered body parts seems to be somewhat more rare than your current pass-time. It may not suit you, however, considering how deeply foolish dedicated mountain bikers generally need to be.
Perhaps instead you might consider "drinking like a judge"?
I don't know about mountain biking, but heavy drinking is starting to sound more appealing: My oncologist thinks the cancer may have progressed in other parts of my body, and has ordered up a full ScanFest for Thursday (to get it in before the procedure on Friday). It's a good thing I'd already taken this week off!
It's been a tough day. I saw my oncologist this morning; the procedure scheduled for tomorrow is off because the risks are too high and the benefits too few. Instead, he's putting me in a wheelchair. (I'm a "serious fall risk.")
It's been a tough day. I saw my oncologist this morning; the procedure scheduled for tomorrow is off because the risks are too high and the benefits too few. Instead, he's putting me in a wheelchair. (I'm a "serious fall risk.")
I'm having a glass of wine before going to bed, because why the hell not? I went to choir rehearsal, which was good for me: I had to focus on something else - and the other members of the Second Alto Sisterhood are amazingly supportive. (Badasses all.)
It's been a tough day. I saw my oncologist this morning; the procedure scheduled for tomorrow is off because the risks are too high and the benefits too few. Instead, he's putting me in a wheelchair. (I'm a "serious fall risk.")
I'm pretty much devastated right now. More anon.
Oh no. I am so sorry. I haven't been commenting, because, well, what do you say, but I'm reading, thinking, praying...
I had a long talk with my oncologist today. The good news is that I'm off the chemo pills, effective immediately; the bad news is that it's because they're not working, and the cancer has spread quite a lot in my bones.
He and the radiation oncologist have something to treat the bones, and then I'll go one a once-a-week infusion chemo. Fortunately, I still have my wigs from last time.
I appreciate the indulgence of the Hell Hosts in permitting this thread - and I appreciate all prayers, good thoughts, and snarky humor, too.
A stalwart member of the little congregation at Our Place, one R., recently told us that his partner, T., has just been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.
She's not yet 60, poor lamb, but is now embarking on the chemotherapy/radiotherapy treadmill, with the hope of at least reducing the pain and general shittiness. Prognosis, I gather, is Not At All Good.
R. himself is not in the best of health, and the family generally is Poor (£££ speaking), so we are all hoping and praying that benefits, local Council, etc. etc., all come up with what's needed to at least give them some help and relief.
Cancer is the devil. (But, as @Ruth knows, Second Altos rule, and they got me through a difficult situation today. And the choirmaster says that we'll figure out a way to deal with the wheelchair so that I can keep singing.)
Comments
You may canonise me if/when it happens.
IJ
IJ
Lord, have mercy (and <votive> for the lady who passed away overnight)!
What an awful experience for you all.
IJ
The lady who died left a couple of wheelchairs. I may look into acquiring one or both. How annoying is it to consider doing THAT?
Anyway, Evensong at the Abbey (followed by an excellent dinner) was just the thing for all three of us.
My warmest wishes for continued safety and good travels.
IJ
I hope to die with earphones on listening to BBC Choral Evensong (or St Mark's Compline)
Yes, a sensible thought....I'd probably have just grabbed the chairs, and tried them for size later!
IJ
It may seem cumbersome from the outside, but I get the impression that once you’re in it - chariot of the gods.
Judgemental people will get all huffy when you get up and walk, because there's this assumption that you should only have a wheelchair if you cannot walk at all, rather than can only walk a few steps. Having observed judgementalism in action only this week in the supermarket.
Perhaps instead you might consider "drinking like a judge"?
Next surgery: Friday.
yaaaaaay. gooood thiiiiing...
Apparently it's difficult to send people alcohol over the internet.
I'm pretty much devastated right now. More anon.
I'm so sorry Ross. Prayers abounding.
Oh no. I am so sorry. I haven't been commenting, because, well, what do you say, but I'm reading, thinking, praying...
He and the radiation oncologist have something to treat the bones, and then I'll go one a once-a-week infusion chemo. Fortunately, I still have my wigs from last time.
I appreciate the indulgence of the Hell Hosts in permitting this thread - and I appreciate all prayers, good thoughts, and snarky humor, too.
A stalwart member of the little congregation at Our Place, one R., recently told us that his partner, T., has just been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.
She's not yet 60, poor lamb, but is now embarking on the chemotherapy/radiotherapy treadmill, with the hope of at least reducing the pain and general shittiness. Prognosis, I gather, is Not At All Good.
R. himself is not in the best of health, and the family generally is Poor (£££ speaking), so we are all hoping and praying that benefits, local Council, etc. etc., all come up with what's needed to at least give them some help and relief.
IJ