If, indeed, progress is the right word – I have my doubts.
Since Wednesday, my left leg has been swathed in a compression dressing, looking like a giant, pink, Elastoplast. This, against the laws of extremely basic physics would, I was assured, force the leaking lymphatic fluid back into its proper channels within the body. My belief, in accordance, as I say, with basic physics, was that it would take the route of least resistance, i.e., worsening the existing leak.
And Lo! It came to pass.
“We knew that would happen,” quoth the nurses in unison, clearly having previously lied their arses off, “it’s perfectly natural.”.
I know it fucking is, so why did they give me an argument about it? Are they so used to their patients being ill-informed that the bullshit comes as naturally to them as breathing – anything to pacify the numpties? I found that in hospital – nurses, doctors too, had a seemingly bred-in-the-bone reluctance to go anywhere near the truth. So, for example, huge pleural aspiration needles became the size of those used for blood-sampling in the consultant’s description.
So why – if I know what the outcome would be – did I agree to it? Well, for a start it had to happen at some point, and I’m also desperate to be an adult again, and wear trousers and shoes (or in my case, walking boots**). I’m heartily sick of bare/bandaged feet, and shorts.
**DWP snoop’s note: Not for walking, but for the support they give my lightning-damaged feet.
There’s another problem too, and I can’t wait to hear the lies about this. Now that the reservoir of my left leg is effectively closed off, the pressure in my right has, apparently, gone through the roof, with a concomitant, and massive, increase in pain – I’m back where I was a few weeks ago; the drugs simply don’t work – and leakage. Again, not entirely unforeseen, at least by yours truly – it wasn’t even mentioned by the nurses. The soft tissue of my right calf, it goes without saying, is rock-hard.
If I raise the question, it will doubtless be denied, right up until the point that it becomes undeniable, and I’m carried off, screaming, into the night, my mind dissolved under the barrage of constant agony and bullshit.
An hour ago I took 5ml of Oramorph. I’d have got better pain control from 5ml of dilute Golden Syrup – which is to say I got none. That’s been the case since the second dose, and it has me wondering if I’ve been slipped a bottle of sugar syrup, and the first dose was simply the placebo effect? I would expect some effect from it – I’m getting nothing, not even side effects. Cynical though I am, I seriously doubt it as it would be illegal, but why is it so useless when Zomorph is reasonably effective normally? It must simply be that the solution, 10mg in 5ml syrup, is just too weak. That can be tested by taking a higher dose
The nurses want to use the Oramorph to enable them to Doppler my right leg (an immensely process painful as I’ve said, and my right likely to be worse than my left), but with this useless shit? No, ABSOLUTELY NOT, going to happen.