Why I’m not writing much of any consequence.

Apologies for the lack of quality output for a while. I can see from my blog’s stats that my lack of output is damaging it, so I thought I’d take this opportunity to explain what’s going on.

Since getting out of hospital, the bilateral lymphoedema** which has plagued me for the past two years has become seriously infected (cellulitis, possibly) and, so far, is resistant to treatment.

**Caused by my failing heart, which APH is still trying to deny, even though it was diagnosed there in 2011.

What’s cramping my style is the pain, which on a scale of 1 to 10 is a solid 10, and there is no position in which I can sit or lie which provides any relief. The pain, at its most extreme can, without warning, come roaring up my legs as if I’d just stuck them in a blast furnace – there is no way to resist screaming at that point. God knows what my neighbours must think but, frankly, I’m past caring.

I’m also, to a large extent, past thinking rationally, which is why I’m not writing much of any consequence. I should have turned out a couple of thousand foodie words today. In the event it was just 35.

Just two thoughts dominate – if this keeps up I really can’t live with it, and if I could have my legs amputated at the knees I’d jump at the chance. Enough is enough – there’s no virtue in suffering.

Do I have any analgesia, I hear someone ask? Yes, indeed, I have Tramadol, 100mg every 6 hours, and Paracetamol which, for my normal pain are just fine – do nothing for my legs though. Or perhaps they do, and without them I’d be even worse? Not something I want to contemplate.

The infection, of course, is affecting my whole system, so as well as the unremitting pain, I feel like hammered shit. I do have an antibiotic, plus an anti-fungal drug – I might as well be taking Smarties for all the effect they’re having.

While in hospital, we had a guy on the bay who spent his time, talking to his pain and berating it. I have, it grieves me to say, become that guy. It doesn’t help.

The district nurses are changing my dressings twice a day, though the main result is more pain.

Oh yes, and my legs stink. Even through the dressings.

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8 thoughts on “Why I’m not writing much of any consequence.

  1. Oh Ron! That’s more than rough. Words won’t really help, but I hope something does and fast. xxx

    • Well, Sue, and Anne, I’ve managed to write the simpler of the recipes I should have written yesterday, so it’s a start. The next one, though, is more complex, and needs to be made before I write it up, as some timings are critical – a job for tomorrow, I think (no sense in pushing my luck today).

      I’m just hoping, though, that this leg problem doesn’t put me back in hospital – six weeks is more than enough for anyone! I can see it happening, though, if it doesn’t start to improve soon.

  2. not a lot anyone can really say Ron except to hope it gets better soon. why is it some people go through their entire life with little of consequence going wrong with their body? (I had a great aunt like that at 82 still had all her faculties.brilliant eyesight no specs needed.seemed fit as she could be. 2 weeks before she died her stomach swelled., cancer diagnosed. very aggressive form. died quietly as all would wish to go, in her sleep.. ) then others like yourself who seem to get everything thrown at them all their lives? i know life is never fair, but you would think him upstairs could even things out a bit better wouldn’t you?
    feel better soon. x

  3. I suppose the only thing I can add to the above discussions are only you know what’s best – I hope whatever your decision you’re medical staff concur xx

    • Were I to say “My right leg is poisoning my entire system (with which, by the way, the admitting doc at APH concurred last time), so take it off at the knee,” I’d likely get a psych referral rather than surgical. To me, though, spending whatever time I have left on wheels is infinitely preferable to spending it in excruciating pain while dribbling toxic crap all over the landscape.

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