Sammy the spider is on the loose

We toodle along to our local village pub. Once more we're filled with shock. The pub's been transformed. Witches fly across the ceiling. Skulls lurk on every shelf. Zombies hang paley on the walls.  Bloody hands stain the window panes. Innocuous pictures on the wall turn out to be something else on closer examination. So, for example, a copy of the Mona Lisa hides a dragon that looms out at you.The specials menu features things such as "Severed Fingers" and "Fried whitebait with vampire dip". Around all there's swathes of cobwebs with loads of spiders, from tiny ones to great huge things. I'm just waiting for one of those giant tarantulas, a couple of feet, across to wave a friendly leg & I'll be off.

All this is due to Halloween. There was a party held here on Saturday, in the afternoon for kids & the evening for adults (in costume). I gather the afternoon party was a great success, with Michael, one of the barmen, & an aspiring professional magician, performing all sorts of tricks to amuse them. The evening was quieter. 

It's the first time such a big fuss has been made to Halloween here & the locals are suspicious of change. Clearly not many knew what to make of the adult party.

The decorations remain up, presumably until Halloween itself.It's certainly drawing much needed business this week. Most afternoons when we've been in, we've had the bar to ourselves. We've had an amiable chat with the staff & wondered at some of Michael's magic tricks. At the moment you are hard pushed to find a table just for you. I know it's half term but many of the visitors are childless so that doesn't seem to be the explanation.

We dread that,  when the decorations do come down, they will be replaced with Christmas paraphernalia instead. This landlord clearly likes going over the top! And we've already noticed some shop windows with Christmas trees in the windows. We have to pinch ourselves & remember it's still October! 

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On a different matter, I'd like to say how wonderful it is to feel more like myself. It's great to be able to plan meals once more, confident we might actually eat them. We even had some savoury pancakes yesterday using up some leftover cooked gammon. I've been planning to do this meal for a while but haven't dared to get the meat out of the freezer the night before so I can make up the pancakes in the morning, for fear I'd be back in hospital or too uncomfortable to be able to even contemplate cooking or possibly eating even if the Fox cooked it.

Yesterday I even tried a half glass of wine with my meal, the first alcohol for over a week, & so far there's no ill after-effects. Maybe I'll have a whole glass tonight. It does make the meal a bit more special, though I'm strictly limiting myself to quantity, just to be on the safe side. And I'm staying off the alcohol if we want a chunter & some music later in the evening.

     

Voyages of Imagination

I'm somewhat surprised to hear the Fox has been writing his blog again. He hasn't been writing much for a while. I tried to guess what he had written about.  I hastily read the blog before writing this - I don't what to bore your too much writing about the same thing.  I was somewhat surprised by the subject matter - one I've often contemplated writing about but somehow not got there - but at least it leaves me to get on with writing about what I intended to write about - books.

Regular readers will know we've recently rediscovered the joys of our local library.  I usually get out a couple of  jigsaws a week to keep me occupied. I also get out some books, as does the Fox.

With these books we have travelled miles, in time as well as geographically. The Fox is just back from a very cold wintry Chicago in the company of Sara Paretsky. I meanwhile am in Spain during the Civil War there just before the Second World War ("The Return" by Victoria Hislop). 

I've only visited Spain on the odd excursion across the border when we've been staying in Basque country. In the absence of much summer in England this year, it's wonderful to feel the warmth of the Spanish sun & the passion of flamenco dancing. It almost helps make up for the lack of prospects of getting away to the real sun at the moment.

When I think back I recall other recent journeys. They include going to Tudor England under Henry XIII, the Deep South of the USA in the 1960s, an English village in the 1950s, into the trenches of the the First World War, contemporary Italy, 17th century New England. Each journey acts as a catalyst for new thoughts, new ideas. The world is once more expanding beyond the horizons of this little corner of England & the limited activities that are my life. 

And I'm loving it, as is the Fox on his voyages of imagination.    

A more even keel

Life has been on a more even keel these last few days.  After writing my last blog, I had to admit to being a bit over-optimistic as I reached out for the codeine. However, the latter was sufficient to ease the problem which is more than it did before my hospital trips. I even began to feel that things were settling down sufficient to get back to more normal life. 

The doctor let me have something for my knees so I feel I can once more do some of more normal activities, such as cooking, bed changing etc without too dire a consequence. I even began to think maybe I could hazard some wine with a meal, just a glass, or even go away for a day or two for a bit of pampering. 

Then last night, out of the blue, the pain returned to my abdomen. However, yet again the codeine, topped up with some paracetamol, eased the problem. I couldn't help looking at the alarm clock & noticing it was, you've got it, just after 2am. Some things don't change. I wish I could work out the significance of that hour. My only conclusion is that we always eat our main meal of the day in the evening at about the same time & that maybe the pain gets started when the food reaches a certain part of my digestive system. Since we eat at a similar time, the pain begins at a similar time.

Not having the alcohol does seem to  be keeping the pain at a tolerable level, controllable with medication short of morphine. But I have to admit I do miss the wine with the meal. I can happily chunter on fruit juice in an evening. But the wine with the meal makes the meal seem that bit more special, more of an occasion. Still it will be worth going without for a spell if it means the pain is less.

Meanwhile I'm turning my attention to dinner today. We're having chicken for a change. We don't seem to have had any for a while. Mind you anything pre-A&E & hospital seems a long time away. I harvested the last of the Fox's potatoes & par-boiled them ready to saute this evening. The chicken breasts have been battered down into thin pieces ready to be flavoured & quickly fried up. I'm really quite looking forward to it. I'll also use up some rather blackened carrots that have been around too long. They should be still edible once they've been peeled to reveal their bright orange insides, a nice contrast of colour against the green of some courgettes, the paleness except for some parsley of the chicken & the golden brown of the potatoes. It should be good.

No wine

I'm still at home!

That seems quite an achievement at the moment. Even more surprising I'm feeling more settled, more comfortable than I have for a while. Part of this I suspect is due to the fact I looked up the pancreas & its problems. Whatever the problem, the one common factor is that you are advised to give up alcohol. Not that alcohol necessarily causes the problem. Rather alcohol is likely to aggravate any problem. With this in mind I've abandoned alcohol for the moment to see if it helps.

It's not that I drink a lot of alcohol. Normally when we go out to the pub I indulge in fruit juice, hot chocolate or diet Coke. The only alcohol I do have is wine. We have a bottle most days with our meal & sometimes in the evening (usually accompanied by plenty of good conversation & some cool jazz or French chansons). Now we've introduced a regime of water with the meal, perhaps after an aperitif of squash or fruit juice. In the evening it's now juice or non-alcoholic wine. 

So far I do seem to be doing better. Indeed I'm almost feeling I've been making a fuss about nothing. 

Why couldn't the GP have made this simple suggestion before? Still I'm not feeling so confident that we feel we can think of going away or cancelling any further investigations. Not drinking alcohol doesn't solve the underlying problem, just alleviates it substantially, & possibly temporarily. Untreated, the problem is presumably likely to get worse with the result I will be in agony even though I'm not drinking alcohol. 

We're off to see the GP tomorrow so I will discuss with him my experiment & find out further about pancreatic problems. For that matter see if I can go back onto some anti-inflammatories for my knees! That would help a bit.

But meanwhile, I think today we can go food shopping in anticipation of being here to eat some of that food. I even managed to cook yesterday - deep fried whitebait. The whitebait was coated in spicy flour before frying which gave it an extra element of interest. It's amazing how much flavour these little fish can have. It seems a waste just to have them as an occasional starter. I can see no reason why you can't add some veg & make them as a basis for a really tasty meal.

Home again

Just a quick note to (re)assure you we're still alive & kicking. As feared, & expected, I've been back in hospital. By Monday afternoon we're once more waiting for an ambulance to take me to A&E. I was moved onto a ward, while some tests were done. I was let home on Thursday, but have felt too disorientated & woozy to focus to write. 

Anyhow I'm home now, though not confident of how long for. We've made a step nearer diagnosis. At the moment it's still a case of what I've not got, rather than what I have. Things seem to be narrowing down to a problem with my pancreas. I'll write more when I'm feeling a bit brighter.

A&E

As I predicted last time, by Wednesday evening I was at the surgery for an emergency appointment. The pain had got worse. I didn't see my usual GP. Instead I saw a young doctor, all long hair & jeans. We went through the story. He could find nothing specific wrong. He obviously thought all the right things had been done & it was just a matter of holding on until the hospital appointment next month. He did, however, arm me with some stronger painkillers & some laxatives. He didn't think I needed to risk that pain to add to my problems. We came armed with a carrier bag full, 8 packets of codeine, 5 boxes of laxatives. His parting words were "Good luck".

I persevered through another uncomfortable night, popping pills madly. On a regular basis through that night & through the following morning I had two lots of antispasmodics, codeine & paracetamol. And that's on top of the pills for my knees, bones, blood pressure & thyroids, not to mention the laxatives I'd just been given. By midday I was ready for a lie down.

Mid-afternoon I was up again, feeling much better. We even ventured to the library. Whilst waiting at the desk to get our new books & jigsaws out, the pains began again. We hastily came home. I went for another lie down while the Fox got on with the task of preparing dinner as it was after 4.30pm. He'd barely got started when the pains got even worse. He abandoned his efforts & got on the phone to the surgery instead. By the time he'd explained the problem & they'd had a brief talk to me, they decided to arrange an ambulance & paramedics to come to take me to hospital.

We hastily got my skirt back on, made up an overnight bag, collected all my medication, ready for their arrival. It wasn't long before they arrived. I was given some laughing gas to ease things immediately. Soon I was bundled into the ambulance. The medic wanted to give me some morphine to ease the pain which I was clearly in but couldn't find a vein to put the needle in. We set off regardless. Halfway to Lancaster the spasm intensified. The medic just couldn't watch me writhe any more. He decided to have another go. He stopped the ambulance. He finally managed to find a vein on my other hand & gave me some morphine, just a half dose. When that clearly wasn't sufficient, he gave me more. Finally we reached the hospital.

The Fox was waiting anxiously at the hospital. He'd left after us in our car with my wheelchair, coat, handbag etc & was surprised to have arrived earlier than we had. We explained why. The wait began.

We eventually saw a doctor. Physical exams were done, both inside & out, including a smear test in case my problems were related to the cervical cancer I was operated for in 2001. Time marched on & we were getting hungrier. While the physical exams were being done, the Fox tried to find a sandwich machine but all he could find were sweet machines, not quite want he fancied - he's never been a lover of chocolate & sweets. He popped to the nearby pub to find that had ceased serving food for the night. The best he could do was a packet of crisps. He hastily returned. Still we waited.

Finally the doctor concluded that there was nothing more she could do. The morphine was kicking in, reducing the level of pain considerably. My bloods were all reasonable. It sounded as though my own doctor had done all that could be done, until I've had that hospital appointment next month & got a diagnosis as to the cause. She gave me an outline of the tests the clinic will probably organise once I finally get there. In case the problem was due to the anti-inflammatories I've been taking for years now, she advised me to stop  taking them if possible. She gave me yet another set of pills, this time to line my stomach. With this she sent me home. She assured me if it ever became as bad, not to hesitate to ring the ambulance again & come back in.

So we left. By this time it was after 10pm. The Fox felt well passed starting to cook. On his way into Lancaster he had noticed a rare restaurant that stayed open until 11.30pm so we headed there. Sure enough, everywhere we passed en route looked shut up for the night. Lancaster still closes down early. This Indian restaurant, though, was still open. The Fox dived in to see if we could still get a table. We could. He got me in. We had just the one course. The Fox thoroughly enjoyed it. I found it rather sweet. I made a poor showing of my meal, but I assured myself it was just too late for me & I was still under the influence of the morphine. We agreed though, it was sufficiently good to justify picking up their Xmas menu.

Eventually we got home. I went to get changed for bed. I'd barely taken my coat off, not even  put it away, when nausea swept over me. I rushed, in as much as a snail can rush, to the loo. I got there just in time to dispose of half my dinner. Having done so, I felt much better. I got changed, had the mug of tea the Fox had made, my new lot of pills & then to bed for the best sleep I've had in days if not weeks.

I can see the weeks ahead are going to be long. If I'm going to try without the anti-inflammatories (for my knees), I'm going to have to cut down on what little walking I do. The Fox is going to take over the cooking full-time. I will be using my wheelchair even more than usual. Even the short few strides into our local pub will be done in the chair. I'm going to have to have weeks of resting. 

A neighbour was round first thing this morning to be surprised when I answered the door. She'd popped round to see if there was anything she could do to help. I explained what had happened. I warned her they may be a few more visits from the ambulance in the next month or so. I noticed as she returned home to report to her husband on what had happened, she ended up stopping at every neighbour on the way. All had been worrying.

She was the second caller. Our new neighbour next door had been around before the Fox had even had time to leave for the hospital offering their assistance. It's good to know so many people care & would do what they could to help if we needed it.
 

In hell

The last day or so have been hell. It started on Tuesday night, when I went to bed. The abdominal pains hit. I spent most of the night awake in agony. No matter what medication I took, my abdomen continued to writhe. I desperately tried to find some position of comfort.

When I got up yesterday, I didn't feel too bad. Tired, yes. Bruised, somewhat. I decided to get the Mean Machine, my electric scooter, out, & venture down to the fish shop. Halfway there the pain began again. I managed to complete the trip & get the monkfish. I returned home, wriggling uncomfortably, unable to sit comfortable to enjoy my usual relaxed trip along the prom.

The pain continued. I tried having a hot mug of tea. No help. I tried having something to eat. Still no good. I managed to get the potatoes peeled to accompany the fish. I then abandoned things & went to bed for another lie down. My abdomen continued to contort in every direction.

Mid-afternoon I got up again. After a brief sit down & watch of a pre-recorded TV programme, time came for dinner. By now I could hardly stand up straight, let alone cook. The Fox kindly took over, roasting the monkfish to perfection along with some fennel. Much as I enjoyed the flavour of the meal I couldn't eat the whole meal. However, I was relieved to find my stomach pains seemed to ease.

So, after dinner, we progressed to a bit more tele-watching. By 9.30 I was ready for bed & the pains began again. They continued throughout the night until about 5ish. I managed to doze a bit.

This morning I got up, feeling not too bad. I thought I would be sensible & have some breakfast, just my usual slice of toast & jam. One mouthful & any appetite disappeared & the abdominal pains began again.

They are on a lesser scale now, but by no means gone. I had arranged with the Fox I would prepare the dinner if I thought I would feel up to cooking it, or at least eating it. Now I'm wondering if it's worth trying to peel the spuds. If I'm feeling uncomfortable now, heaven knows what I will feel like this evening. Certainly if I'm not up to eating more than a mouthful, it doesn't seem worth the effort of doing much cooking. Something quick & simple will be ample.

I see my next appointment with my doctor isn't for a fortnight, as for the hospital it isn't until next month. I'm beginning to think I'm going to have to make an emergency appointment at the surgery to see whichever doctor is on duty in the hope of getting some stronger painkillers. The problem is that it is difficult for them to prescribe anything too strong without a diagnosis in case it makes the situation worse. They may at least be able to get the appointment at the hospital brought forward as a matter of urgency. At the rate things are going I can see me going along to A&E (Accident & Emergency) as I just can't cope with the pain any more. 



 

Tidying up

I can't quite believe it. The sun is shining. It hasn't rained for a couple of days. I'm beginning to hope, if it stays like this, I might collect the apples & pears from the trees. I had a preliminary step on the paving stone at the entrance onto the lawn. For the first time in ages, water didn't ooze all around it when I stepped on the stone. If I do go, I'll still put on my wellies. I suspect it won't take long to sink into the soil.

At the weekend we brought in the last of the tomatoes. They may be green but they're not likely to ripen outside now. The plants were being broken in the strong winds, the early frosts rotting the fruit on the vine. While we were at it, we pulled up the pea & bean plants. They looked pretty dead. We're slowly tidying up the garden for the winter ahead.

If I do get the fruit in, & there is sufficient, I will put some on one side for Angie, our home help. She's back! What a relief! For both of us by the sounds of it. In her two weeks off, she supported her daughter through a traumatic birth. (The baby girl had turned in the womb so she was trying to come out neck first rather than head first. She was nearly born with a fractured skull. As it was she wasn't breathing & had to be rapidly revived.) Then Angie's husband came home with a sore knee. He ended up spending 4 nights in hospital. Although home, he is still on a course of 24 antibiotics per day. As for her own op that went smoothly which is just as well as she had no time to rest & recuperate. She was too busy running around after everyone else! She's hoping life will be more restful now she's back at work.

Bemused

Bemusement strikes again. I received a second letter from the hospital. It's for the same time. This time it tells me where to go in the hospital & what I need to take with me. I was reassured the time was the same - Saturday 9.30am. But the location! It seems I'm to report to the Dermatology Out Patient Department. What on earth has that to do with abdominal pain, suspected Irritable Bowel Syndrome? Surely dermatology is to do with ailments related to the skin? I hastily look at the top of the letter. Yes, it does say "Department: Gastroenterology".

My conclusion is that this department is centrally based at Preston & has clinics once in a while in the regions. If that is the case it wouldn't justify having an area delegated specifically to them, so they just use whatever department facilities are not otherwise in use - hence dermatology. We''l find out when November comes.

Meanwhile I wonder once more who will turn up to clean the house. I suspect Debbie again. Angie should have had her op by now but a week doesn't seem very long to recover, especially when her job inevitably pulling & stretching in all directions. If Angie does come I'll try to do my best to ensure she doesn't overdo things. I will be relieved to get back to Angie as the regular.  

Fish day

I've heard from the hospital. The appointment is mid-November so I've a while to wait. But I've got a date, a definite date when I should start the next step forward, to count the days to. I am somewhat bemused to discover the appointment is for 9.30 on a Saturday morning. I didn't even think they did out-patient clinics then. I can see we will have to set off early to get across Lancaster through the Saturday shopping crowds, though at least we won't have to contend with the child drop-off at the school we pass on the way.

Today it's fish day. So far I've parboiled some of the Fox's new potatoes ready to saute up later. I've made an unusual sauce made from spinach cooked in coconut milk, then blended. This evening I will add some prawns & chilli to the warming sauce to complete it. This afternoon I will marinate some haddock in various spices - cinnamon, paprika etc - & lemon juice before frying the fish. It should be different. Somehow, even these days, Friday seems like fish day.

It's amazing how long it takes for tradition to die out. I suppose the idea of Friday as fish day began with the medieval Catholic view that one day a week & on holy days meat was not to be eaten. Certainly my father continued with the view that fish should be eaten, or in his case, endured, every Friday. My mother wasn't bothered at all. When Dad ate at work, during school holidays, we had whatever we fancied, whether it was fish or not. We were not a particularly religious family, protestant if anything, so not ruled by any Catholic edicts. But then I wonder how many Catholics continued with the regime by those days, or even still do. I know the fish shop & stalls always seem busier on Friday. The display always looks more elaborate & varied. There remains a vague bell that goes off in my head that says "It's Friday, fish day". I wonder how many other people hear the same bell. Certainly many of the pubs around here seem to make fish a speciality for Friday so presumably the demand for fish must go up on Friday. I wonder if that bell will ever cease to ring in this country or is the thought so ingrained, even bred into British consciousnesses that the bell will continue to ring as long as there is fish in the sea & rivers to be had.

Up and down

I was right. My blood pressure is still too high. The nurse insists I should see the doctor about it, so now I've yet another appointment with the GP. Needless to say that won't be until near the end of the month. I seem to be at the surgery every week at the moment. Too often. Still, by the end of the month, hopefully things will be more organised at the surgery. They're moving site today & tomorrow, so next week it will be to the new, just built, surgery across the road.

Meanwhile today I've got the joy of a nose dive into the freezer. The Fox is having an experimental  cook today. He's getting out his other favoured bit of cooking equipment - the wok. He's going to do a stir fry, using up one of the oldest items in the freezer - some minced pork. Unfortunately I suspect the pork will be at the bottom of the chest freezer hence the nose dive. I'll dig up other items of a similar vintage while I'm at it.

The other day we were talking to the new(ish) landlord at our village pub. It will be his first winter here & he thought he'd make up some Christmas cards with a picture of the pub under snow. The only problem is that he's having difficulty finding any pictures to use. He's asking around, scouring books & archives to no result so far. We  couldn't help pointing out that that is because we rarely have snow here so pictures inevitably are rare. He found this hard to believe as a Yorkshire man from the Pennine area where annually the snow would be above head height. But then we pointed out we are a lot lower here as well as having salt-laden air due to being right on the coast. I'm not sure he quite believed us. He'll find out come the winter proper.

The day ahead

It's off to the surgery again today. Once more I will have my blood pressure taken to see if it has gone down any since last month. I'm not expecting much change. I'm still anxious about what is causing all this abdomen pain, especially as it continues to worsen & I'm now even having difficulty swallowing food without pain. If nothing else, though, we will both have our flu jabs done - at least that's one medical problem we should avoid for the winter ahead.

After that, we're hoping to get the shopping done. We're just about out of everything, so many of the basics. I've no idea what we'll have today. I contemplated one meal option - no onion. Another thought came to mind - no potatoes. A curry? We had that yesterday. My mind goes blank. It will probably end up being a ready meal or eating out for a change.

We were going to go food shopping yesterday. By the time I'd taken in a delivery of the harvest gift from church, & been told how well I look, I collapsed in agony. I had taken some painkillers just before she'd arrived & they didn't seem to be kicking in very promptly. I ended up spending the afternoon lying down in the hope of a bit of comfort. By the time I felt up to getting up it was time for a mug of tea & then dinner.

The mutton turned out great. I can certainly see why it is mutton, rather than lamb, which is generally preferred, in most Indian-style curries. The meat seems to have more substance to hold on to, & counterbalance the spices, especially if it's a hot curry as this was. We're looking forward to finding something else to do with the other couple of portions I put in the freezer

The mutton

We're trying the mutton today. We did manage to buy some last week at the Farmers' Market. Caroline, the stallholder, told us how much she preferred the taste of mutton to lamb. We bought a shoulder. 

I was surprised. I was expecting it to look a lot darker, the fat yellower. I would easily have mistaken it for lamb. When we got home, I cut the meat into portions for various days before putting it into the freezer. Now I started to become aware of the difference. The flesh was much purplier. The consistency seem to cut differently & yet I couldn't say how.

Last night, the Fox got on with the task of cooking one of the portions. He made a Jamaican mutton curry. In Big Ears, the slow cooker, of course.

The curry plopped through the night.

At 2am I was awake once more. The cramps were striking yet again. Almost before I could register the abdominal pains I was attracted/distracted by the smells coming from the kitchen. The aroma of spice, of coconut....mmm, mmm. It was enough to set any stomach rumbling in anticipation of good things to come. Though for me, in my current state of health, it also set off a sense of nausea. For several hours I twisted & turned in bed to this source of tantalisation before the medication I took began to kick in & the cramps ease once more sufficiently for me to go back to sleep.

This morning I get up. I step out of the bedroom & head towards the kitchen. Oh that smell! I've not dared to take the lid off the pot to look at it. It may be just too much to resist.

I'm now hoping it's going to taste as good as it smells. In which case we're in for a treat.

Wondering & hoping

I wonder who's going to turn up today. Angie, our normal care assistant, or Debbie, who stood in last week? I suspect the latter. Angie is due for an op tomorrow - just a minor one in the day ward - & she was intending to have today off to prepare herself & her home. However, with having last week off for the birth of her grandchild, she may not be allowed two consecutive weeks off & be expected to work a few days in the middle. In some ways I do hope so. I miss her & I'm keen to hear how mother & child are doing. I get on better with Angie than Debbie, but I can also understand her urge to make sure the home is shipshape before she goes off to hospital, especially when she's been told she will have to have at least one week with no lifting or stretching for fear of re-opening the incision, which will be in the back of her neck.

I had been hoping to do something about gathering in the apples & pears. The apple tree has almost been bowed down with fruit. The pear has a scanty production. (They always seem to flourish in alternate years - this year is the apple year.) We finally had a couple of dry days at the end of last week. I was beginning to think we could finally dare to cross the sodden lawn to get to the trees. However, yesterday it once more rained. What is more, gales howled around, so now I can see a fair amount of fruit sitting in the puddles at the bottom of the trees & on the lawn. Still, as long as we can get enough to see us through the winter months - we don't need many - that's all that matters. The birds & other wildlife, the very soil itself, is welcome to the rest.

We have finally managed to harvest a few tomatoes. Most are still very green but some have a more yellowy-orange cast. I still suspect it will be green tomato tarte tatin for us!