The Annual Squish

Well it is that time of the year again where things get squished.

No I am not talking about squishing this year’s Christmas presents into cupboards already full of useful gifts. 

Neither am I referring to the squish as you zip up your favourite pair of jeans that appear to have shrunk over the festive period.

The squish of too many guests over Christmas?

Well I made the decision to stay put this Christmas and have everyone come to me. I hosted Christmas and a New Year’s party plus had even more visitors to stay in between the two. I have lost count of how many beds I’ve changed and sheets I’ve washed, fitting everyone in.

No, what I call "The Annual Squish" (I'm reading Miranda Hart's book, so please bear with the Miranda-isms!) is something far more personal. 

It’s been a whole year since I had my very first mammogram and since I am deemed moderate risk due to family medical history today was the day to visit the hospital and get SQUISHED –"technical term"!

OUCH!

I’d forgotten how much it hurt, but it is only a momentary discomfort and now I can hopefully forget about it again for a year. There’s just those couple of weeks to wait for an all clear letter.

It doesn’t matter if it is something we are eagerly looking forward to like Christmas or something we slightly dread like a regular check-up; it comes and then it goes – all over for another year.

So now here I sit post-Christmas, post New Year and post mammogram wondering what’s next?

I have no idea what 2013 will bring and I haven’t a clue what I might have to write about.

It’s quite exciting really!

Eeyore vs Pooh - round 2

I woke this morning with an Eeyore head on – not literally obviously – but I was in a definitely grumpy mood.

The boys left for school and I was still in my pyjamas feeling very sorry for myself.

You remember last week I bravely went and had that lump removed? (read OUCH!!!!) Well yesterday I was supposed to have the stitches out.

“I think we’ll leave them until Monday.” Said the nurse on examination, “The outside ones look OK but if I take them out now the inside one looks like it might pop.”

Too much information, the thought is just too graphic and makes me shudder.

“So I still can’t have a shower or a bath?”

“No, sorry.”

She didn't seem unduly worried about the state of things but it's no wonder I woke in a bad mood. I feel smelly and yucky, especially as I have done a couple of exercise classes this week as part of the “new-year -new-me” plan.  Maybe I had stretched too much and the scar hasn’t had chance to heal? 

(Not to self – have a restful day!)

“Just have a shower.” Advocated my rebellious best friend. 

 

She had a C section and was positively encouraged to bathe particularly with an expensive brand of bubble bath that contains healing ingredients. I bought a bottle of this green fresh fragranced miracle lotion yesterday in preparation.

So why is my nurse so adamant I can’t get my stitches wet? Risk of infection. Is there NO risk to a C section scar? I don’t understand and if anyone from the medical profession can enlighten me please do.

My mood turned blacker when I listened to the radio.

Severe Siberian winter weather is heading our way for the next 4 weeks.  Typical, it’s my birthday in a fortnight and my parents have promised to visit “if we don’t get snow”.

Here’s a very apt  Eeyore quote for the day

Expect the Worst

Even if someone remembers to come to your birthday party,

they will almost certainly eat your present on the way or break it!

I could have curled up under the duvet for the day quite happily sulking.

But I want to be more positive and cheerful (read eliminate the negative) so this is what I did…

My mother-in-law who has all manner of medical supplies for her own ailments gave me some adhesive dressings I could cover my wound with. I’d not actually used them but on closer inspection they proclaimed to be “water repellent” – aha!

If I just stuck one on I could probably get away with a quick shower and hair wash without getting too soggy.

It wasn’t the best shower ever but for the first time in a week I feel CLEAN and on top of the world.

Best of all it worked perfectly, the stitches stayed completely dry and I have enough dressings to see my through until Monday.

So Eeyore you can take a hike with your doom and gloom here's what Winnie the Pooh has to say for the day.

If the string breaks try another piece of string

because

You never know when a piece of string might be Useful

Think that’s another round to Pooh!

Have a Happy Friday!

Twin Your Toilet Today!

I’ve been struggling with what to write today.

You see I’ve set the bar pretty high now both with quantity and hopefully quality of writing.

Blogging has become an enjoyable daily habit. Besides if I miss a day my stats drop dramatically and I begin to fear no one loves me – go read yesterday’s blog!

On the quality side of things I wrote the other day that “I feel I really do have something to say”.

But do you really want to hear about the stitches in my bum and how because I can’t get them wet I had to stick my head over the bath to wash my hair? 

Last time I had to conduct my ablutions in this manner was when I had my wrist in plaster and Andrew kindly washed my hair for me. I have some wonderful memories of those times that I think I’ll keep to myself and not share.

Or would you like to hear about how painful it still is for me to sit down, especially sitting on the loo where my scar just catches the rim of the seat – ouch!

Too much information? Yes I think so too.

However my own aggravation pales when you remember how fortunate we are to have fresh clean water supplied directly from the tap and deliciously warm water flowing from the shower daily. We take so much for granted until we have some kind of inconvenience to deal with. Then we pause and sometimes even take the time to think a bit.

40% of the world’s population are without a clean and safe place to go to the loo and every day 5000 children under 5 die from diseases caused by dirty water.

Those frightening stats come from a website about “toilet twinning”.  The idea is a simple one working in much the same way as towns are sometimes twinned with one another.

For £60 you twin your toilet, at home, work or school with one in Burundi, Democratic Republic of Congo or Cambodia.  Tearfund and Cord will use the money raised to help provide access to better sanitation, clean water and hygiene education.

 

Once you’ve made a donation you receive a framed certificate of the latrine your toilet has been twinned with, along with its GPS coordinates so you can even look it up on Google maps!

Our new church hall has 7 bright and shiny purpose built flushing loos – or will have when they are installed and fitted. We are now raising money to twin them all.

Hopefully the certificates and photos will serve as a reminder of just how blessed we are and how much we have to be thankful for.

OUCH!!!!!!!!!!

Well I’ve been putting it off for a long time but today was the day when I finally had a small lump removed from my leg. It was just below my left bum cheek to be precise so I am sitting rather lopsidedly as I type!

It appeared a couple of years ago and I ignored it for as long as I could.

Three out of the four GPs at our practice had examined it, all declaring it was nothing suspicious but easily removed.

Just knowing it wasn’t – oh let’s just say it – cancer or anything “nasty” was a huge relief. I am now a lone parent and the mere thought of having something seriously wrong with me fills me with fear for the boys’ future. They have lost one parent already so I have even more reason for needing to be fighting fit.

All that was required was a little bit of courage. I have to close my eyes it I watch Casualty – too much blood and gore and that’s not even real. Nursing was never a profession I aspired to.

There was an appointment available in November – too close to the anniversary – sorry can’t make it.

The next month went by and I was offered a slot in December – I had a brilliant excuse, Christmas and we were away!

Well I finally ran out of excuses and had to face my fears.

The GP had a glint in his eye as I arrived – he’s that sort of character but his manner does put you at ease and I was able to laugh and joke my way through the procedure.

He had to take a bit of skin away too which would leave my lower left buttock more taut and firm.  What with that and the soft breast tissue I discovered I possessed at last week’s examination I joked I had plenty of plus points to add to my on-line dating profile.

“You know I’m not really THAT sort of girl?”

He assured me that if I was there would be no laughing about it. Phew - I don't want them getting the wrong idea.

Less than 15 minutes and the lump, a lipoma (?) and may I also add it was bigger that it first appeared, was out. 

 

(I looked up Lipoma and it is made of Adipose tissue - it didn't look like this though!)

Ten stitches later I was “done”.

"What sort of pain relief should I take?"

The GP said I wouldn’t need much because I wasn’t a whinger.

Well what good does it do you to always complain? 

With a smile on my face at his compliment and trying to walk tall I left the treatment room to make an appointment for next week to have the stitches removed.

Ok, so I may not whinge, I’m thankful for my health and oh so many blessings beside.

But TEN stitches – all sympathy gratefully appreciated!