Go away, black dogs

It’s been a tough week. My leg is getting better, slowly, but each day is a fight against pain. It’s a pretty well established sequence by now – it’s not very painful when I’m ready to get up, but as I put my feet on the floor and the fluid redistributes, it hurts quite a bit. I stagger to the bathroom.

By the time I’ve showered (with a black garbage bag tied over my left shin) it’s not bad.

But then the Silver chain nurse arrives and changes the bandage. That relieves the pressure and soon after the jabs of pain start again. At first it’s bearable, but I’ve been told to take pain relief before it builds up, so I take two Tramadol or Oxy and within an hour, I’m getting woozy, but the pain is still bad. It slowly subsides by midday or 1pm, but I have to sleep, or doze anyway. By 5pm it’s just a background thing, still sore but not really painful.

At least there was visible improvement this morning – less redness and signs of scabbing forming. The area seems less too. They assure me we’ll get on top of it, but this week has been a write-off, unable to do much except sleep and write a bit. I’ve got a home open on Sunday and I’ll try to do some vacuuming, but I tire very quickly.

But this morning, I felt stomach upset too, and felt quite down in the dumps. It’s not surprising I suppose – constant pain does this, and the antibiotics must be making me feel queasy. Two more days and I’ll be finished those.

I’m certainly paying a price for not looking after myself, not taking things seriously enough. The stress of all I’m going through with all my battles and financial troubles isn’t helping either. I’m full of good intentions about exercise and walking … now to live up to them. It sure took me by surprise. When you realise you’ve got a problem, you’ve already really got a problem. Kapow.

——————————————————————

At least one good thing has come out of it. I was nearly ready to send my Java book off to the printers last weekend, bit it was delayed to to the above. Then yesterday, I realised I’d forgotten to include a huge chunk of text and photos from my 1996 spell in Jakarta. I would have kicked myself if I’d sent it off last weekend.

So today has seen the writing of five A4 pages of text, and a plan of what photos to include. Unfortunately, as I said, they’re in a box in the shed, but which box and where exactly? No problem – I know the negs are there, so I’ll find them.

This was a marvellous time for me and I have a store of stories to tell. It’ll be good to get it down into book form at last, 16 years later.

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