TGIF

A lot has happened this week. TGFJ Thank Goodness for Jerome. We agreed Dipstick hadn’t read the script last week.

Following that confusion , best forgotten, we moved to Jerome’s plan B or is it C D or E?he had some time ago introduced me to Consultant Infectious Diseases. Mrs CID. Her NHS clinic you might recall from previous blogs is in a random building off Tottenham Court Road. As you go in the ‘Freedom – Condom shop’ is the first encounter. That has now become the covid quick temperature check station. The Freedom stickers and posters everywhere somehow redolent of a previous unlocked down world.

Monday I had been invited to see CID in person. 

After some discussion. Including a brief history of urology by me to her very astute medical student. CID came to the conclusion  that 2 weeks of iv antibiotics would  break this current cycle. My face dropped from  smile to tears.  I simply could not ever be in hospital again. Surely not. And for 14 days. ? No no

BUT.  she went on, we could teach you how to do it and then do it yourself at home.  I could have actually hugged her. If that was allowed. 

Thus it came to pass every day this week I’ve caught an empty train having parked in an empty car park and arrived in the deserted St Pancras. Then a short hobble, past the Freedom Condoms, to what is ( as I now know)OPAT. whatever the hell that stands for.

It was here that a ‘long line’ was put in my arm. A guide wire followed and a tiny long cannula tube guided in. Not for the squeamish this one! 

I was shown how to clean glove clean glove again. Draw up the drugs. Mix in the water stuff. Wash wipe glove and flush the line. Then it was slowly push the drug in. Flush again. Wash up. Tidy up. All done.    

My daily commute which on Monday found me fumbling for the right app to park the car. The right app to show the ticket barrier and the right app to order my (free ) Pret coffee. Let alone fumbling needles in phials and fumbling blue gloves on off on off.

By Friday I nonchalantly waved my phone around and passed through barriers coffee in hand. Pinging blue gloves with flourish of Hattie Jacques.

The Clinical Nurse Specialist who taught me all week had us both laughing so loudly doctors came in to check we were ok. I just called her Trunchball and told her poor colleagues she’d broken my foot. Stabbed my arm and hit my nose. They retreated rapidly. She had me sussed suggested gin might be a good infusion!

Best of all I’ve felt better and better. Grumbling bladder has calmed down. Painful kidney has disappeared and even dare I say it pee is crystal clear. At last. After weeks of is it isn’t it maybe it’ll go away.

The icing on the cake ?  I’ve seen daughter 2 every day. How we’ve laughed and chattered and giggled.  

Broken foot is erm slightly hampered by now broken boot. I don’t think it’s designed for daily commute. Daughter 2 personalphysio at my service has rigged a temporary measure. I am not sure the fracture clinic will be impressed. But that’s next week. Now Ibetter go to scrub up for the next iv. .

not a soul about