The Next Leg of Health Updates

Oof! I hope you can forgive the dreadful pun of the article title... But it helps to make fun of health problems I've found.

3 February 2025. "The garage door won't open!" said a crestfallen Miss Franny this morning. Daughter Gill was coming as they were both going down into Blackpool shopping or sunbathing, I'm not too sure. So Gill went for a look too. "We think it's the bar with the pull string at the top of the door," said Miss Franny. Strange because that only comes into play when you are closing not opening the door.

So I stagger to my feet, shuffle to garage door, give it a tug and feel resistance at the bottom of the door not the top. Look down and a big bit of gravel from the path sits there with folded arms as if to say "So what are *you* going to do about it???" Whack it away with my walking stick that's what. Door opens perfectly. The ladies in my family go "Oh..." and burst out laughing......... I hobble slowly and painfully back into the relative warmth of the house...

10 February 2025. Funny old week. The District Nurses keep telling me the legs are improving, though the one that started these leg problems required me to call out the out of hours emergency District Nurse service as something of a flood was making itself known late on Saturday night. The gunk that comes out of such wounds - a watery brown liquid - is referred to as "extrude". A couple of nights ago the extrude from my right leg had soaked it's way through the layers of bandages and was dripping, almost continually running, off my foot at regular intervals.

My descriptions were pooh-poohed when I phoned up the District Nurses Emergency line at Blackpool and I was indebted to my friend "C", herself a retired District Nurse, who not only gave good advice but who took up cudgels on my behalf and got someone to call round to mop me up and redress the leg.

It was my first inclination that different District Nurses have very different methods depending on where they are based. No attempt was made to wash the leg. The first nurse who came said she wasn't trained to do what was necessary and had to call an alternative. When the next nurse came it was simply redressed with a double layer of bandages and without any compression "Oh we don't do that from the hospital..." I lost most of Saturday night's sleep but last night was better than most nights where I am lucky to get more than three hours of sleep.

21 February 2025. Still ups and downs with the legs, though I (with the intervention of the District Nurses) have managed to persuade the doctor's surgery pharmacist to prescribe more powerful painkillers in the form of nerve pain pills and codeine pills to help keep the pain down to bearable levels for most of the time.

I've been sleeping better but that has a knock-on effect that the legs are pressured in just one position for longer periods at night which can lead to painful mornings. Eventually I had to deal with that by sleeping with my left leg out of bed, dangling down so that my foot could rest of a pile of pillows and cushions.

This week we took two buses out from home to town and then town to South Shore to the local Currys where I ordered a new PC as this one is creaking under the load and can't be upgraded to Windows 11. This entailed a lot of walking and a missed connection coming home which left me standing for half an hour opposite the wind coming off the sea at North Pier.

The following day was torture day at the District Nurses. She said "I can tell you've been walking a lot, your calf muscle has been working - that's good..." Anyway the right leg does look much better so that's good. As is the fact that my painkillers are now on repeat prescription.

The oncologists at Christies have pushed back the next MRI to April on the strength of needing blood tests. I have pushed the cancer totally to the back of my mind, which I've needed to do to cope with the pain from the legs. Growing old - not fun...

Family Memories: Personal