On Wednesday morning, the nurse was horrified by the state of my legs, and phoned the GP surgery to tell them I needed an urgent home visit.
I didn’t get one – I got a phone call instead.
In three years none of my GPs have ever seen my legs – they refuse to look at them because, to quote one of them “They’re horrible!” – I wonder what they think it’s like to have to live with them? With the blood, the pain, the suppuration and the stink? They have no real idea of how horrendous that is. And they sure as hell can’t comprehend the pain.
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.
I’ve been banging on for some time, now, about becoming a full-time wheelie, but never got round to it. There are several reasons for that. For a start it’s not wildly convenient – there are things which it will be hard or even impossible for me to do on wheels. Simple things, like getting a glass of water, for example, for which, using my manual chair, I’d need three hands, an accessible kitchen, and a tap I could actually reach (and with my meds I need a lot of water in the course of a day). In fact I can’t do anything that involves the kitchen – I can’t even get through the doorway.
Probably for the best, too.
I’ve been talking, periodically, about becoming a full-time wheelie for quite a while, but I keep putting it off in the vain hope that things might improve. However, as getting to, and staying on, my feet brings me into sharp collision with the law of diminishing returns now, I believe it’s time to bite this particular bullet.
I got out of hospital almost a month ago, as weak as a baby and, like some babies, I’ve failed to thrive. I am, admittedly, somewhat more active than the care assessors expected at this stage (they say Continue reading
For some reason I’m being plagued by depression. Every evening it roars in like a tsunami and rolls me under, and it’s getting tiresome.
The only reason I can think of is that pain in my legs is greater in the evening and overnight (why? – and don’t get me started on the itching!), restless legs have arrived from nowhere and, as we’ll see, I’m not sleeping, but which is cause and which is effect? Buggered if I know. Anyway, tonight I’m trying antihistamines in the hope they’ll shut down the itching.
My GP came a couple of days ago to discuss an alternative Continue reading