15 November 2011

Posted by DMC on 16 November 2011 in Diary |

As I sit here as I sit here looking out of my study window I see a beautiful blue sky and the sunny autumn day. I feel cheated as today is Tuesday, my geriatric golf day. I did a five-day weather forecast last evening specifically for the postal address of the golf club and it clearly showed grey cloudy skies, the lowest temperature of the week (9°C) and a stronge wind. I always said I would not venture out in the winter when the temperature dropped into single figures, but looking out of the window. I really cannot believe that the warmth of the sun would not have made it bearable.

As Ollie,’ My Friendly Wheelchair Taxi Service’ very kindly allows me to telephone him as late as 8.30 on the day, to confirm whether or not I am going to the club, I have decided that this is not fair on him, although it is excellent rom my point of view as I do not have to make up my mind until an hour or so before I would leave for the club. Having said that, I feel guilty if I do ring up, even the evening before and cancel, so I have rung Debbie, Ollies wife, who organises the office, and suggested that between now and 31 March, she can take it that I will not be going unless I ring her. This way, if Ollie gets a booking for all three ambulances and there is no one to take me there. that’s the risk. I must take for this winter period as I’m certain that there will be more days when I will not go, than when I do.

The district nurse, Claire called in mid-morning, at my request to look at my feet , which were very swollen and a horrid deep purple colour. More like something you would expect to see on a cadaver in the morgue rather than a living person. One of my toes has developed a small, sore patch and knowing the dangers of any open wound on one’s legs and feet. when you are not moving around I felt justified in ask Claire, the district nurse, to pop in, and look at them. She was horrified at the colour of my feet and the fact that they were icy cold. She was so concerned that she askred the doctor to drop, in on his round, and look at them. The doctor arrived about an hour later and seemed equally concerned until I told him that I suffered from Raynard’s syndrome. (This is a condition whereby the minute blood cells close up in any sudden change of temperature, cutting off the blood supply). I also told the doctor that I took nifedipine in the winter to open those blood vessels and it was clearly time that I resumed taking it again. He seemed much relieved when he heard this. The doctor ascertained that I had a pulse in each foot, albeit a weak ones and prescribed checked outprescribed an anti-virus for the sore and recommended I resumed immediately taking the nifedipine. He also thought that some sort of electric blanket or pad under the feet might help to keep them warm and night. As to the swelling the only way I’m going to get that down is to have my feet higher than my hips, for lengthy periods, and as I cannot breathe without a respirator when I’m lying as flat, it just isn’t worth it. I shall put up with the swollen feet

Day by day we’re told the various governments are close to a solution for bailing out those countries in the Eurozone and cannot service their debts. I say close because they have that yet to cross the ‘t’s, and dot the eyes. So, in effect we are living from day-to-day praying that one or other of these countries does not go under. I have already given you the Canadian point of view concerning these debts, now, click here for the Spanish one.

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