DVT DAY 274
Injection Monday. I hate it. Standing at the back door (lepergate) of the GP surgery waiting to be let in by the nurse. Its cold, I am cold. I get in and realise that this is a Right Monday, the side that is the worse of the two. So I expose my midriff and in she plunges, slowly because there is a lot of it and its quite viscous. The initial lancing is okay but there is a burning sharp pain as the drugs gets pushed into me. I’m in no mood for small talk and get out noting that it si the 4th of January for the next one coupled with a B12 jab. I drive home determined to be okay.
The decorators arrive and we discuss brief details like which toilet they are going to use, so posh to have two but provides some social distancing. They agree to touch up the paint in the office as we have put down new carpet adn exposed more skirting board. We have breakfast and I skit about putting some things back and generally pottering. I stick feet to the bases of my youngest daughters swimming trophies so they do not scratch the new paint. My partner and daughter go to feed the ducks, I stay to cyber potter some dates. I also workout how a milk foam maker works and give it its initial first run with water to it. The postman arrives as they return adn there is our first Christmas card adn as sods’s law would have it is from someone who I did not have an address for. The card inequality is quickly remedied. I’m begging to feel the injection after effects, coldness and trembling like a two bit junky. I eat a Florentine and then I find a parcel addressed to the pixies c/o me. Anyone who knows me knows that my brain is run by pixies with whom I regularly chat to and observer. As they have never had a parcel before they are very exited. I open it and find a Christmas tree bauble adorned with a toucan. The pixies immediately want a tree to hang it on but are disappointed when I point out that the decorators are in the room where the tree goes. The pixies march off with brushes in their hands. The parcel is safely stored.
I WhatsApp my friend who sent it to tell her the pixies are delighted. My sister rings to find out how my partners mother is and sends her love. My partners mother is doing okay given she is 92 and in hospital with a broken leg that’s been pined. Lots of anxieties but we have to wait for the medical team to assess her and work out an after care plan. It going to take time and all we can do is keep calm, deal with one thing at a time adn not get ahead of ourselves.
By now I am feeling decidedly crap, cold and shaky so I retreat up stairs to the back bedroom and try to relax. I watch Citizen Kane. I wonder if I will have an enigmatic last word which will sum up the root of my life style and being. Rosebud was Kane’s last word. Revealed to be the name on the sled which was torn from him as his mother sold him to a rich and powerful man with vested interests in the fortune he had inherited. In effect it is probably the most powerful depiction of a transitional object. At the moment I would choose Heartbeat. Who would not want more?
I am really feeling off now and I go to eat without any real desire to eat, which is a shame as my partner has made the effort amidst the partial chaos of the downstairs of the house. I return to the back bedroom to rest and watch a German football match to occupy my self and distract myself. It ends and I write the blog knowing that my side of the bed is being warmed by the electric blanket. Its likely to be a torrid night as a man prone to hot flushes but is shaking like a junky is going to try to get right kind of warmth. Tomorrow is the worst day usually so I may do nothing. Right night time drugs to take and its off to bed for me. See you on the other side.
