Am v touched by offers to help me secure Bed That Is Rightfully Mine. The usurper-interloper ESSENTIALLY treated us to “vulgar ranting hymns” over breakfast; & has, using her phone that rings at a volume seemingly set to alert members of the House to her receiving a call, been holding prayer meetings by phone.
EXCEPTIONALLY rudely I got no time at all to read yesterday. I finally rang haematology to let them know I was in hospital as repeated requests to staff to do so had gone nowhere & think I actually heard the nurse specialist levitate with rage... saw my consultant (who is vg & who had his own quiet moment of Very Cross over the whole Them Starving Me situation); had blood clot scan; had specialist IV team remove midline because they found a clot & declined their kind offer to provide me with some more horrific bruises but not actually manage to place a cannula; ended up with multiple joint dislocations because I fell in the bathroom (& greatly disturbed some poor innocent visitor with my yells for help [the one emergency alarm being unreachable & it not really being safe for me to try to move without help; hurrah for my having got to point of decency before accident]) as “help” = HCA putting a sign on the door saying it was in use & knocking on the door st intervals between other jobs; I spent several hours of quality time with collar + blocks (I at least got to lose the board relatively early in proceedings) as had to wait for CT report to clear my head & neck injuries; obviously had said CT & also some x-rays of joints I’d sent sideways to be certain I’d not broken any of them instead of just bouncing them out; I missed yet another meal (but had some hummus & crisps at Late O’Clock; Emergency Rations = glorious); had my tubefeed restarted at a higher rate; remembered I’d not slept at all last night so have had a couple of hours just now.
Oh yes, & it turns out that my midline clot (that it got left a bit late to check & then was only ultrasound checked today because they’d a spare 5 minutes) ISN’T superficial at all as apparently people had been told, but DVT. At least at midline ends significantly further from the heart than a PICC does. And because I’d dragged haematology into things THEY’VE worked out a plan to zap the clog (because they don’t like me having usual stabby solution at best of times; but we also have exciting situation of my weighing 20kg less than acceptable weight for oral tablets). Director of haemostasis & thrombosis Centre (or whatever the badger’s called) has come up with Plan using an oral medication, after a fun round of Which Medication Is Safest.
But yes, all go here. And just now probably I ought to make the most of pain medication & antiemetic & try for some more sleep.
Am paying close attention to book recs, naturally. Persephone books is a thing of beauty (& thus hopefully a joy forever, naturałly) & OH Rumer Godden! I read The Diddakoi so SO often when I was at Junior School.
On an unrelated note, have been wondering if Storage Knickers could be reintroduced. Perhaps in Daring Postmodern style (though from sound thread some of you might think more Dastardly Dystopian).
All the above was written around fourish but then I fell asleep. For added fun, my phone is declining to let me reread it. So please enjoy The Babblings, now I’ve managed to get help for The Window Thief after she woke up with a drowning-in-own-lungs coughing fit & my obs are done (including a blood sugar level: discovery of my superpower of stealth!hypos has left me with VERY bruised fingers)...