Perfect Timing

On Friday we have an appointment.  With the smaller portion's surgeon.  Again.

Over the last couple of years he has had seven abdominal surgeries.  The first was essential to save his life (after his bowel ruptured), and the rest have been  follow-up and 'tidy-up' surgeries.  There has been pain, worry, tears and frustration by the bucket load.

All of those surgeries have led to him having very little stomach muscle left.  Which means that an inadvertent move results in a hernia.  The medicos in their usual empathic way have told him/us that a big hernia is good, because his poor abused bowels can't get trapped in it and strangled. As far as reframes go that one is a doozy.

And he now has several, of varying sizes.  He hopes that the surgeon will agree to operate and attempt (again) to repair them.  I am not as confident as he is.  And dread the outcome - either way.  If the surgeon refuses to operate he will not be a happy chappy.  And if the surgeon will play we will have to go down the medical mayhem route again next year.  Which I dread.  For him and for me.   I suspect I would be calling it quits, but it is his body and his decision.  Dammit.

So I have been worrying and fretting.  Two of my skills it is true - but if I knew where my anxiety button was I would disconnect it.  Permanently.  (And the guilt button while I am at it.).

Overwhelmed is probably a reasonable one word summary for how I am feeling.

And yesterday I received a parcel in the post.  Which made me smile - and made my eyes leak.

All Consuming has undergone similar surgeries and knows what is involved.  And how much fun it is.  For everyone.

And this very talented blogger and jewellery maker sent me a gift - 'to make you smile in advance of the coming hospital visits of the New Year'.  She made me a beautiful pendant - and matching earrings.  And I will wear them when we head off to see the surgeon tomorrow.

Isn't it beautiful?
The timing was impeccable.  I am so grateful for all of the people I have found in the blogosphere - and this exemplifies the caring I have found.

Surgeon's Playground

We went to see the smaller portion's surgeon on Friday.  After examining the skinny one he commented that his belly was 'a surgeon's playground'.  True - and I wish someone had told them to play nicely.

After six abdominal surgeries it is strongly reminiscent of Frankenstein's Monster.  And there will be another operation in the New Year.  Hopefully the last but no guarantees.  Sigh.

The smaller portion drove off to visit a friend a little while ago.  The friend lives more than 600 kilometres away so he will be gone for a couple of days.  Is he well enough?  I don't know, but he is an adult and it isn't my decision.

And I am going to revel in being home alone.  I am tired to the bone and beyond, my pain levels are high and bits of me are non-functional.  There is cleaning, weeding, shopping and baking to do - and they aren't going to happen.  And will still be there when I surface again.  

I have a commitment to Lifeline and another to the Multiple Sclerosis Peer Support Program which I will honour - and everything else can go hang.

Give us this day our daily whinge.

Mostly Reading

The skinny portion is visiting his sister so I am home alone.  This means that after the needs of the cats, the birds and the fish have been met I can suit myself.  Luxury.

We are also in the middle of a heat wave, so suiting myself has meant hunkering down and reading.  Also sleeping.

I was given many most excellent books for Christmas and indulged myself shamefully and bought nearly forty more between Christmas and New Year when the book stall at my local shopping centre closed.  How I will miss that book store.  She had a wonderful collection at very affordable prices.  Which she further discounted for me (probably because I bought so many).

When you laugh before you have completed the first paragraph of a book it has to be a good sign.

'It is neither flat nor truly hilly, but gently rolling, its patchwork curves spread and rounded like the breasts of huge, reclining, naked women.  Landscapes are best not likened to men, as occasional pylons can then cause embarrassment.'

And it lived up to its early promise.  Not literature by any means - but fun.

I am currently gobbling two of my Christmas books.

This book was given to me to further indulge my Mitford obsession.  The Duchess of Devonshire is the last surviving Mitford sister and, while I suspect I would have little in common with her (quite apart from the obvious class and wealth divisions) she is fascinating.  Not likeable precisely, but fascinating.

This book is a collection of her occasional writings - mostly vignettes.

'I have reached the stage in life when I wake up earlier and earlier in the mornings.  The wait till breakfast time has forced me to put a kettle and toaster in my room, so I can help myself to their merciful productions whenever I like.  I advise all early wakers who have fallen for this plan to buy a clock with a minute and second hand of immediately recognisable lengths, or you may have my disappointing experience of last week.  Waking at 6 a.m., I made and ate my breakfast, only to discover that the clock's similar-looking hands had played a trick on me, and it was in fact only 12.30 a.m.  Too early even for me, but too late to pretend I hadn't had breakfast.'

I laughed, but did think that a digital clock would solve her problem.

The other Christmas book of the moment is very different.

The author, Fiona Houston, was apparently in the habit of denouncing our modern diets and was prone to ranting about the evils of supermarkets.  She said that people in Scotland were better fed at the end of the eighteenth century than they are now.  She admits herself that she was becoming a bit of a bore on the subject when someone called her bluff and dared her to try living as they did at that time.

So she decided she would.  And that she would do so for a calendar year, to experience 'the realities of all seasons'.  I haven't got very far, but am thoroughly enjoying her diary - complete with some recipes that I will certainly try.


Matters not related to reading:   It appears likely that in early February the skinny one will have the first of two operations which are needed to reverse the ileostomy he currently endures.  This is the 'big one' to repair and re-join his bowel.  If all goes well three months later the ileostomy will be reversed and he will be returned to a bag-free state.  Exactly what he/we went through unsuccessfully last year.  He is gung-ho.  I am worried.  I imagine (but have not been told) that his sister will come to stay with me again.  He is a truly rotten convalescent at the best of times and I am so not looking forward to this (while understanding completely why he has agreed to the surgeries).

I have just started a new medication to reduce the pain which has been waking me up shrieking at night for longer than I care to remember.  So far on the pain front it has made a HUGE difference (and about time too).  The trade-off is low level nausea (most of the time) and headaches (ditto).  So far it is worth it - but I am very glad to have my home alone time to come to terms with it.  I also intend to get my relaxation in while I can to prepare me for the ugly months to come.

While he is in hospital and I have a house-guest I will be very much a fly-in, fly-out blogger.  And I know from my experiences last year how much I will miss you all.