Z plans to drink a litre of water (a pint and three-quarters, darlings)

I’d reassured myself that my own (left, that is – the Sage owns my right one) hip was fine, by standing on my right leg and drawing my foot up – when it touched my bottom and I felt no pain (apart from kicking myself in the butt), I stopped worrying.  Until last night, when I remembered that tests my knee, not my hip.  So, I’ve just done the hip test.

Well, the good news is that it made me notice the cobweb on the ceiling, which I have now removed.  The less than good news is that I reckon I will be getting a new left hip in a few years.  Do excuse me while the cyber-air turns blue for a few minutes.  Having had one done, I know that the operation isn’t the problem, it’s the years in the meantime while it deteriorates enough to be operated on.  And last year was so lovely, I appreciated every little thing that I was able to do again, and the thought of gradual decline is a really unhappy one.

Having said that, it isn’t stopping me doing anything yet, I wear heels, I walk fast, I can put my legs pretty well anywhere I want to.  Still, I’ll start to save for my 65th birthday or so.  Maybe earlier.

Though, there is other good news.  It seems that my knees are fine.

Anyway, I’ll continue to focus on good news.  Winkie is arriving tomorrow, and all the family will be here for Saturday evening.  I have thought of a genuine reason why buying an iPad would be a fine idea (will hang on for the new improved one in the spring, however) and it isn’t even self-centred – that is, the Sage would love it for eBay.  Not having to fiddle around with a laptop’s control pad or a mouse would be a joy to him.  Even he can manage my phone effortlessly, and my friend John said that he was surprised how easy it was to use.  He especially loved the pinch movement to zoom in and out.

Irritations did happen today, I confess.  I went on a Safeguarding training thingy in November, where I and the Safeguarding (I keep writing Sageguarding!) governor asked about accredited training, and were met with blank stare and told that was it.  Now I’ve had an email to suggest she and I go on a half-day course next Tuesday, which will cost the school £60 for each of us.  I can, other governor can’t.  Well, I can, but I’ll have to tell the music teacher I can’t go to her lessons, which disappoints both of us.  I think that’s enough about being irritated, I’ve got over the rest…well, I wasn’t exactly dismayed about that, it’s just that I’m thoroughly disorganised and even I would have got that right, and I’m not paid for competence.

Tomorrow – well, as I said, Wink will arrive, sometime in the afternoon.  In the early afternoon, I’ll go to the blood donor clinic.  Indeed, darlings, to give rather than to receive, because ’tis better, unless unavoidable.  I shall remember not to drink wine at lunchtime, but to have lots of water instead.

8 comments on “Z plans to drink a litre of water (a pint and three-quarters, darlings)

  1. sablonneuse

    Oh dear, hope the wait isn’t too painful. Maybe in a year or so they’ll do hip replacements before you have to suffer so badly – on the other hand, when you think of the present cuts – maybe not. . . .

  2. Mike and Ann

    Ann gives blood on a regular basis, but they won’t take mine. It’s not up to scratch or something. But I don’t mind because as far as I’m concerned I need all I’ve got.

  3. Christopher

    Irrelevantly and irreverently the following officers’ mess Grace came into my head after reading this post:

    O Jesus Christ, our Lord divine,
    Who turned the water into wine:
    Look kindly on these naughty men
    About to turn it back again.

    Please excuse me. I do know how to behave, really.

  4. Z

    It’s four miles away, AQ, I’m driving. I won’t drink it all before I go, though.

    That’s the think, Dave, they’ve been finding more and more people feeling faint after giving blood. I suspect that a lot of us slot it into our daily lives – nip out in our lunch hour and think that we can just keep going afterwards. If you have had a lot of water, you are not likely to faint. So instead of a small plastic cup, you’re given a pint beaker of water and asked to drink it before going in, and then more afterwards.

    I used to need all mine, Mike – at one time I was under the required weight. Not now, sadly.

    So you know better and still choose to do it, Chris? Hm..

  5. PixieMum

    It is one of the little sadnesses in my life that I can no longer give blood, for it had been my aim to donate more pints than my father who managed 65.

    I reached just 42. I had started at 18 with the Greater London Red Cross blood transfusion service whereby one is telephoned to go straight away to a hospital as fresh blood was needed for an op. In the early days one was sent details and result of the op. Kept that going until arrival of children meant one could not just go to haring across London at any time.

    Switched to National Blood service and carried on until one day my breathlessness was spotted and blood refused.

    Husband cannot give after pulmonary embolism when he ‘died’, we both feel failures.

    Need to remind son to start again. Thanks.


  6. Z

    I don’t think I’ve the least chance of reaching 42, Madeleine. I was quite small in my younger days, with a tendency to faint if I got up quickly, so I couldn’t be a blood donor then. What with one thing and another, it’s only been in the past few years.


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