Monthly Archives: March 2015

Six

Four years ago, I estimated three to five years. I might have been slightly pessimistic, but it may turn out to have been pretty accurate. Anyway, I wanted to get an idea of how long it might be before my second hip replacement.  So I phoned for an X-ray and consultation and that took place today.

I knew I wouldn’t get a straight answer, though that didn’t stop me. My surgeon remembered me, I wasn’t surprised to learn, though I was a bit embarrassed. He said – he’s a polite man – that it’s the patients who stand out from the others who are most interesting. One worked in a slaughterhouse and so was interested in the anatomy of the operation. Another was an engineer and he wanted to know all about the replacement joint itself. I asked a lot of searching questions and was really quite stroppy about it.  I’d been told about hip resurfacing, he was dead against it and it wasn’t that I argued, but I wanted to know exactly why he was against it, to the extent of asking him how many operations he’d carried out. This was a matter of a week or two before news broke about how risky metal-on-metal hip replacements are, which he already knew of course.

I liked him because I asked forthright questions, he answered straightforwardly and I ended up convinced by his answers. I’m not especially opinionated and don’t insist on having my own way unless in exceptional circumstances and I don’t have a lot of time for those who do argue every case, just for the sake of it. I’ve known parties ruined that way. I’ve got a friend who admits to cringing every time his wife gets into a discussion in a social setting because she prides herself on out-arguing everyone – which convinces no one that she’s right, of course, they’re all just more polite than she is and bored into submission.  On the way home, she says “why didn’t you stop me?” Then, when by arrangement he nudged her under the table, she said loudly “why are you touching me under the table?”  It’s pretty funny, unless it’s your party being killed.

I mentioned that I have one regret about my own operation, which is that I’d have liked to see and handle a joint of the type I have. So he said he’ll bring one in, next time I see him.

No news about when that’ll be, though. He scored my answers on how much it hurt, on a scale of 1-21, at 6. He said that he’d be willing to operate privately on 12 and one is NHS eligible at 15.  Some people hang on until 18. I suspect that I did last time, or potentially even more, as one question was whether I needed painkillers and I said that last time I found that they didn’t really touch the pain so I didn’t bother. Another was whether I could walk a mile, and then I didn’t willingly walk ten yards – I mean that literally, I got on my bike to go down the drive and, if I left something upstairs in the morning, I managed without it until I went up to bed.

He wouldn’t be drawn on how long I’ll be before I need an operation. Might be three months, it might never hurt enough for me to come back (that isn’t going to happen).  I have the feeling that I might be going back to him next winter but it’s just a feeling.

Tonight, I’m over with Weeza and co. They’re off to London tomorrow and I’m a lucky granny, I will have Zerlina and Gus for the weekend.

Z is staccato

Considering it was quite a detailed post,  yesterday’s missive sounded a bit staccato.  Maybe I had done too much paperwork for the day.  I’m sorry that it didn’t flow more freely.

Two meetings this morning – I’m taking the view that each one means one fewer in the future.  I’m still interested and engaged and working hard, but I’m nearing the end.  I’ll be ready to retire and start a new chapter, probably in July next year, maybe a year on from that.  Some deadlines are to be worried about, even if I try not to, others can be coped with without stress.

Three more eggs today – it was very windy, so I felt no compunction about keeping the bantams in.  One egg was laid this morning, so I brought it straight in for breakfast, and I picked up the other two tonight.  I will talk to my gardener about the chickens’ summer quarters.  I can’t deal with searching for them all summer and then having lots of chicks.

Two meetings this morning and then I realised it was nearly 1o’clock and I was going to be late for my haircut, so I scooted off hastily.  I haven’t written up the notes this evening, as I’ve been on the phone to Weeza and Wink.  I’ll do it tomorrow.

I had a long chat with Weeza first – I’ve got the children for the weekend and I am looking forward to that so much.  Weeza and Phil are away for a birthday party, which should be a good one.  Their friend’s 40th and he’s pretty exuberant.  Even better, they’re staying over, so nowhere to get to at the end of the evening.

Yes, my haircut – towards the end of the proceedings, she started to chop in to my hair at the back.  She seems to think it’s *too* thick.  I don’t quite see how fine, straight hair can be too thick but I normally like the way she cuts it, so I’m trusting.  In fact, all I could do was sit very still and hope that a chop didn’t go wrong at all.  It’s very short at the back, a bit more length over the ears, I’ll dare to look tomorrow.  My hairdresser has just got married and my next appointment is slightly early, just before her honeymoon, so short will continue next month too.  Pfft.  It’ll be fine.  it’s just hair *gulp*

I’ve never been very brave about my hair, actually.  I just had it long when I was a child as my mother liked it that way and I never cared.  Long, straight and fairly unkempt (frankly) hair was perfectly acceptable when I was in my teens and it’s only been since I had children and finally dragged myself to some sort of maturity that I’ve dealt with it regularly.

Lots of seeds are up, including one lot of tomatoes.  I sowed more today.  There’s going to be lots to do in a few weeks,  Lovely,

 

Z recounts every detail of the day. It’s as if you’re here with me.

A day of little achievements that gave me pleasure…

This morning, I drove over to Beccles, seven miles away.  I feel that it’s a bit disconcerting that the prospect of going shopping seven miles away made me quite excited, but that was the situation.  I had two pairs of boots that needed re-heeling and I went to a discount shop that’s where Woolworth’s used to be and bought odds and ends in a satisfying way.  Then I went to the greengrocer and helped myself to a small handful of kale, three carrots, a large lemon, a lime, a pineapple and some monkey nuts in their shells.  After that, I went to the supermarket to get some lamb’s lettuce for the tortoises.  Tesco was nearest, but they didn’t have any, so I drove down the road to Morrison’s and stocked up.

That, other than getting some money from the hole in the wall, was it.  Yet it made me content.

I hadn’t left home until nearly 11, because I didn’t want to miss Paul the Fish.  I bought a few fresh scallops, beautiful ones, and a small piece of smoked haddock.  I’ve also got some leftover pork from yesterday and, with the vegetables, I’ve got ample food for the week.  Several lots of seeds have sprouted in the greenhouse, which also cheers me.

I had pizza for lunch, with a glass of the very nice Macon that Indigo brought yesterday, lit the fire and did some admin.  I had an email from our insurance broker about my flats in London and I wasn’t sure if I’d told him that Russell had died, so mentioned it.  I hadn’t done, he was sorry to hear it.  We’ve known Steve for many years, he’s such a nice man.  He is going to check  around for insurance on the flats, which cost about £500 each per year to insure – that’s over £1,000 for one building, not including contents, which certainly does seem steep.  He’s going to come over on Monday to go through the details.  I dealt with other stuff, including an email to my solicitor, so my task of achieving something constructive in regard to Russell’s estate every day was met.

I was behindhand in some school stuff, which included studying changes in the Governors’ Handbook and noting what paperwork we need to do in relation to governance.  In one way, it’s really quite boring, but it’s strangely engrossing too.  I actually rather like structure, but flexibility within it.  I’ve done a fair bit and emailed out notes for tomorrow’s meeting, but there’s still more to do before I go to bed.

Tonight, I stir-fried courgettes, garlic, red pepper, broccoli and its stalk sliced thinly and chorizo sausage, then briefly sautéed the scallops.  I deglazed the pan with a dash of sherry and soy sauce and ate it with the rest of Indigo’s wine.  Weeza and I meant to talk on the phone this evening but I forgot and she must have too – ditto with Wink.

We’ve kept the chickens in for the past three days and, as a result, have had some eggs.  Roses and I have both had a look around in the garden, but we haven’t yet found where they’re laying.  I need to watch for a satisfied-looking hen to come out from somewhere secluded, find the next, take all but two eggs (and mark those, so that I’ll know them) or else she’ll find a new hiding place.  I really must get some fake eggs to put in the nest so that I don’t have to mark (and waste) real ones.  I do not want chicks – though it’ll be surprising if I manage to keep tabs on all the hens all summer.

The Cakes of Roth

Indigo came over today to see Roses and me.  For one reason and another, we hadn’t seen him since before Christmas, so it was great to catch up.

In the morning, after church, we were chatting about this and that and I mentioned that I used to drop in at the village pub regularly on a Sunday until the after-church coffee went on so long that I didn’t have time any more.  Now, the services are earlier and it made me a bit nostalgic, so i toddled off down the road at about noon for a quick half.  And another and another – and I turned down, with thanks, the offer of two more drinks and got home about 2 o’clock.  Hmm.  I need to sort myself out a bit, time-wise, if I’m going to make a habit of this.

I still had time to feed the chickens before Indigo arrived and made a cake too and some brownies.  I cooked some pork for supper and we finished with cake.  It’s been a nice, relaxing day.

I’ve found an estate agency that specialises in waterfront properties, so I am having little browses.  Not that there’s any prospect of me selling up here for a while, but it’s good to see what’s available at what price.  Probably fortunately, I haven’t seen anything yet that would suit me.  I certainly can’t contemplate falling in love with a house I’m not in a position to buy.

I didn’t sleep much last night, so I’m going to have an early night. I hope you’re all well – I haven’t had a chance to check out blogs much in the past week, but I will catch up soon.