Good evening everyone - lovely quilt Von.
I must admit that pooter frustrations rather pale into insignificance after the events of this week.
Went for pre-op assessment on Tuesday. All was going well, had an op date (next Tues), consultant was not particularly happy with the state of "the hole", but because surgery was only a week away it wasn't a huge issue.
Then they discovered glucose in my urine sample. Did a finger prick test, blood glucose over 20. Operation postponed indefinitely, they think that I have probably been diabetic for quite some time. They phoned the GP and made a GP appointment and told me to get the GP to refer me back when the blood sugar is under control.
Went to the GP this morning. The results of the vital diagnostic blood test aren't through, no-one can even be sure that the test was ordered. The GP wanted to just wait for a week to see if the vital blood test result appears. Because i burst into tears he reluctantly agreed to order a repeat test (will be done tomorrow).
I did get treated to a lecture on exercise - I should walk for at least 15 minutes each day. I did ask how I am to manage that when I am supposed to be totally non weight bearing. He then said that I should swim every day - but had no answer, no suggestions when I pointed out that swimming with a huge infected leaking wound is not possible.
Then we got to diet, and I pointed out that because of the meds I actually find it difficult to manage to eat at all.
No idea when the vital blood test result will be available. When it does turn up it will take anything up to 3 weeks to get another GP appointment to discuss the result and the way forward.
In the meantime "the hole" is a revolting, stinking, leaking mess. The surrounding skin is in a real state with most of it raw and bleeding, and it is proving impossible to use the pump as it is impossible to keep a seal. I am permanently stting / lying in a puddle as nothing seems able to soak up the gunk.
No way I can go to work with the wound leaking everywhere. No hope of "the hole" healing up, no prospect of the vital operation in the near future.
To say I'm not at my brightest and best is putting it mildly. Whilst having diabetes isn't exactly great, I can learn to live with that, although persuading "him indoors" to change his shopping habits and reliance on ready meals is not going to be easy. It's the prospect of months more of "the hole", of being smelly and dirty, of not being able to shower (the dressing falls off), of the thrush, of the anti-biotics, that is getting me down.
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Some days I pray for silence
Some days I pray for soul
Some days I just pray to the god of sex and drums and rock 'n' roll
