And my pulse oximeter.
The jagged line at the bottom of the screen is a very basic heart trace – all the peaks and troughs should be the same for a normal heart – mine, as you can see, isn’t normal. All 4 pics were taken in about 3 or 4 minutes – this is normal for me and, clearly, all is not well. And it feels much as it looks – as if I have a madly-flapping bird trapped in my chest!
I’ve learned that the Community Nurse service is being subjected to severe budgetary cutbacks, and at a time when not only are costs escalating, but so are patient numbers. Not that this ever bothers the bean-counters because they don’t have to live with the consequences of their own cuts – they just impose them on others and walk away.
The blue cheese, as I said in the previous post, being Sainsbury’s Basics Blue. It’s pretty good, too – I’ve had far worse labelled as Stilton, and from an allegedly reputable source.
This soup will be blended at the end, so do make sure you don’t add the beans before that (preheat them in a little stock if you wish, and add both stock and beans to the pot). Hold back a few cooked broccoli florets, finely chopped, as a garnish.
Well, actually, Broccoli and Sainsbury’s Basics Blue Cheese to be honest – that’s good enough. It seems hard to get a good Stilton this year, for some reason – in fact all the British blues I’ve tried have been sadly lacking in flavour. Even the normally pungent (though not blue or even British), Pie d’Angloys is a shadow of its usually smelly self. All, to me, seem to have the same fault – they’ve been buggered by the Salt Police.
I have a hospital appointment next Tuesday.
They’ve phoned twice, so far, wanting me to confirm I’ll be there. How the bloody hell do I know? It’s a week away. I could be dead or – more likely based on events tonight – an in-patient by then.
It’s at 9.45 so it’s going to have to be a spectacularly good day for me to be there by then, but I won’t know until the day arrives as, to get there by that time I’ll have to be up at 05.00. Getting up at that hours is doable – being mobile most certainly is not.
A slight hiccup – I missed a couple of points. Truth to tell I’m not too well right now.
First, if you want this as either a pie filling or a casserole, the same directions apply to both.
A message for the idiot Baroness Jenkin – many of us poor people can cook, and bloody well, too. The wealthiest family I’ve known, though, lived on ready-meals because no-one wanted to be their cook and they’d never had to learn to cook for themselves. They also had their dinner parties catered, something of a cop-out, whereas I (along with everyone I knew), used to embrace the chance to show off our skills – it was a point of honour not to have a bin full of M&S empties!
Warning – contains ulcer photos some of you will find gross.
Yesterday – the first for several years – was a day in which pain featured only peripherally, due in no small part to the increase in medication enforced by the vascular surgeon.
That increase – which took an unforgiveable three weeks to get to me via my GP – was immediately followed by an attempt by him to stop my supply of Oramorph. I got it reinstated after dishing out a bollocking that surprised even me, during which he complained that I don’t keep him informed enough – a charge that’s only partly true.
This letter is going to my GP overnight. The title of this post is not hyperbole – if he won’t change his mind I can see no way forward.
Dear Dr. Xxxx,
I have just had a phone call to tell me you have refused to issue a prescription for morphine sulphate solution (Oramorph), as I am over-using it.
I am not.
At the rate of 40ml per day (10ml every 6 hours), a 300ml bottle lasts 7.5 days. The current bottle was started at 18.00 on November 27 – that’s 7 days ago today. I have enough left for tonight and possibly tomorrow. That is not over-use, that is using it as prescribed. And absolutely as needed.
In preparation for my surgery (or, more likely, my next emergency admission to hospital which, today, feels a bit further away than it has of late), I’ve made a pair of crutch holders for my manual wheelchair (they’ll also fit either powerchair). I don’t know how those who are actually dependent on a powerchair cope, but I’ve met with a flat-out refusal to accommodate mine – they even balk at my manual chair and I have to insist that where I go, it goes too.