Like Alice, Mark has fallen down a rabbit hole. Unlike Alice, he has only sprained his foot although I suspect the absence of excitement thereafter is down to the lack of hallucinogenic drugs resulting in a mundane injury. He bravely hobbles about, wincing as he goes. This means today I am on Dog duty which requires a trip to the park and throwing of sticks. I am not much good at throwing sticks, partly due to being a girl about such things and partly due to the lymphodoema. Yes, folks, the sleeve is back! I collected my new grip-top sleeve which makes me think of the Monty Python jingle of Thoroughgood’s Garterettes. If you don’t know it, look it up. After one day of wearing it, my arm is sore and aching. It feels better without the sleeve but I suspect the lymph fluid is building up so it has to be repelled, like the parting of the waves. At least it isn’t rolling down, causing fear of a blood clot.
The ‘Getting to see the Lymphodoema Nurse’ saga continues. I remind my breast care nurse who emails me back to say the new lymphodoema nurse is now away for 2 weeks but she will ask about an appointment on her return. I know she is very busy and that I have to continue to push but I still feel a glowing resentment. This is a very real effect of the cuts in the NHS. On another front, I am being referred left, right and centre by my new best friend, the consultant at the Royal London Hospital for Integrated Medicine. True to his word, he has written to my GP with suggestions of new drugs, a mega dose of vitamin D and has made me appointments with the Physiotherapist and at the Pain Clinic. I feel taken care of and that I am getting somewhere.
We recently bought a new mattress in an effort to make my sleep better and less painful so the old mattress has been languishing in the hall where Bunty has taken to sharpening her claws on it. We were going to take it to the tip but I thought last night I would just put it on Freecycle to see if anyone wanted it. A lady emails me this morning to ask, very politely, if she and her boyfriend might have it. We exchange emails and agree her boyfriend will collect it around midday. A very nice Polish man duly arrives and seems very happy with the mattress, particularly because it says ‘Orthopaedic’ on it. He is very smiley but doesn’t seem to have a car to take the mattress away with. “No, I carry” he says and he does, putting it on his head and walking off down the road with it. I feel pleased all over. It has saved us a trip to the tip to contribute to landfill and he has a nice mattress to share with his girlfriend. Result.