Zometa

We went for my first Zometa infusion today.  It was fine.  I did get a migrainy type headache later but think that was the bright sunshine – if I hadn’t read it on the side effects leaflet I wouldn’t have given it a second thought as being medication related.  When we got back I did have a nap on the settee but I don’t know if that’s Zometa relating or needing to catch up on sleep after a busy few weeks and a Buddy week!

To show that my husband doesn’t listen to me/retain relevant information – the penny dropped while we were sitting there that this method of protecting my bones requires four weekly visits to Liverpool!

Further proof that I sometimes just provide background noise arose last Thursday following my tooth filling on Tuesday.  We were heading back from purchasing Buddy stuff with Buddy in the back seat when the following took place…

Me:  YAWN – ‘My mouth is still a bit stiff’

B:  nothing

Me:  ‘What’s that Buddy, well yes it is.  Thanks for asking!’

B:  ‘Well you shouldn’t have gone out in your wellies.  You won’t do it again!’

Wednesday night I had taken Buddy (or dog as he was then) out for an impromptu walk having previously decided we wouldn’t bother that night, we’d let him settle in instead.  However around 22:30 he perked up so I took him round the block to de-perk him.  I popped my wellies on as they were close to the back door and so I wouldn’t get my pyjama bottoms wet – okay, I can’t believe I’m confessing to going out in my pyjamas but as I said impromptu!  In no way am I condoning my action by telling you that my sister in law drove over to meet dog earlier than evening in her pyjamas!  I would point out that neither of us (yet) have ventured as far as the supermarket thus attired – which seems to be a growing trend.  Anyhoo, my wellies had given me blisters, so my feet had been a bit sore – hence the wellie comment.  I suppose I can expect a response to my jaw comment about a week on Tuesday.

The highlight of my few hours at the hospital was provided by an 87 year old chap there for a blood transfusion.  He had created a bit of a hoo-haa in the waiting area by pulling up one of the staff about how long he’d been there – about 10 minutes at that point – but he wasn’t complaining you understand.  I was crocheting some Share a Squares in bright red wool and he asked if I was knitting underpants.  I politely informed him that I was not knitting but crocheting underpants!  Apparently this colour of wool should only be worn in such a manner.

So there we were, us and eight other people attached to various drips and the lady closest to the old chap informs him that his chair could recline. He, in a manner reminiscint of the m-i-l, said that he didn’t want this and then asked her to do it for him.  Oh, and he had a loud voice.

Old bloke: ‘Just back a bit!’

Nice lady:  ‘Is that okay?’

Old bloke:  ‘Yes, that’s fine.’

Nice lady:  ‘Would you like your legs up?’

Old bloke:  ‘Yes please, as the girl said to the solider!’

I ask you – and they talk about the youth of today!