‘There’s nothing like a day out’

B was heard to say as we got back in the car today after going to Liverpool for our first kidney clinic appointment.  ‘Yes’ I replied ‘and that was nothing like a day out.’

I’d inadvertently cramped our dining possibilities by telling Auntie Eleanor at weekend that B would pick her up and bring her to visit this afternoon.  Since our appointment was 11.30 I didn’t think it was physically possible to get to the Asian restaurant that had been recommended, by a friend of Sean, eat and get back.  We’d only said on Friday it’s four months since we actually ate out and when we asked for my blood counts on Saturday my neutrophils were high enough to deal with bacteria laden restaurant food – though with all the spices potentially involved it would probably have been a safe bet anyway.  I’d had a GCSF injection on Friday and my neutrophils on Saturday were 12!  Yes 12 – normal range is 2.0 to 7.5 and I don’t know when mine have ever been near the higher end of this so it took a bit of digesting before I remembered the neutrophil boosting injection.  As it turned out I’d decided that I’d rather see Auntie En than eat out on this occasion so I wasn’t waiting for din dins.

I’d thought that after a long day yesterday we’d just nip out to the Royal today, have the appointment and get back home in under three hours.  Yesterday no ambulance transport had turned up by 7.00 to ferry me to dialysis so I rang and they confirmed that the team had left and I was on the list.  They then rang back at 7.30 and said they’d sent a taxi.  In the end I was only hooked up to the dialysis machine at quarter to nine so finished at quarter to one but didn’t have to wait that long at all for a lift home.  The trip home itself however involved a visit to a nearby hospital to collect and then drop off another patient and then a stop of an hour and a half at another hospital as the patient there couldn’t be located.  They or rather we, went to every conceivable collection point.  It turned out that another team had collected her hours ago but no-one had told our crew that she was no longer their responsibility.    At least I know that if I go AWOL at any point they won’t leave without me.  B had decided that he was going to come get me and when I rang him to say that we were finally on our way it turned out he was nearly there – although he didn’t tell me that.  The first I knew was when we pulled onto the main dual carriageway and stopped at traffic lights and my attention was caught by someone shouting outside.  My attention was peaked further as I thought ‘I know that voice’.  B was stopped at the side and was shouting to the driver ‘I’ll take Paula home’.  They pulled over at the nearby bus stop and one of the ambulance guys carried all my bags and coat to the car and explained/apologised to B.  So from being ready at just after six AM it was half three when we got back home.

As it turned out today we did do it in under three hours.  Well, we did the trip to the Royal and the trip home but we didn’t get the clinic appointment.  No, it wasn’t me, I had the right date/time.    We’d waited for a bit in a busy waiting area and then decided we’d go for a drink.  The receptionist said we should check with one of the nurses as there was only a few in front of me in the clinic I was in.  The nurse asked what time my appointment was (11.30), said that they were up to quarter to ten and gave me two free tea/coffee/cup of water tickets.

We had our free cup of tea/coffee/cup of water and in fact I hadn’t quite finished mine when our buzzer went off and we headed back to the clinic.  The receptionist said that the doctor had just left and the nurse would have a word with us.  As it happened a very apologetic health care assistant came over and explained that she’d weighed me and taken my wee sample but had put my file in the transplant pile rather than the renal pile and the consultant had gone without seeing my notes but they were going to see if one of the registrars would come down and see me.  About five minutes later we got called in and told that the registrar was in a meeting but either someone could see me on dialysis tomorrow or we could come back next week.  B is back at work next week so we opted for tomorrow.  I said ‘Well at least we got a free cup of coffee’ and she said ‘Well you would have got that anyway’.  WHAT! – we’ve never had a free cup of water let alone tea or coffee at the blood clinic and we have an ‘ology in waiting there.

On the upside all this transportation has meant imposed craftiness time and indeed after making a denim and white stripped Myeloma Buddy for a member of the Royal catering staff a friend of hers asked for two too…

and the catering lady asked for something else for her first grandson who is due in May.  She was telling me that her son and his girlfriend are going to give the baby her younger son’s name as a middle name since her younger son had died a few years ago at 19 after being ill since he was six weeks old.  You know that old saying about treating people considerately because you never know what things they are dealing with is sometimes so true.

Anyhoo, we opted for a little aran type jacket age six to nine months which I started yesterday…

but there’s a boo boo! I noticed something was amiss when the pattern on the front wasn’t finishing at the same point as the pattern on the back.  Now I had trouble working out where exactly I’d gone wrong and I’m pretty sure it’s not that noticeable and I could probably get away with it but could I live with that?   Probably not.

And here’s a photo of Bud that I’ve been meaning to take for ages but have never seemed to have the camera to hand at the right time…

he starts to get off the settee and then just stops with this front legs on the floor and back legs, stretched or bunched up, or in this case 50/50 still on the cushion and then just stands there for ages.  His Auntie Chris told him he looks like a dork but I find it quirkily endearing and it’s not like I’m biased or anything.

Advertisements

5 responses to “‘There’s nothing like a day out’

  1. The mistake in your knitting is so obvious Paula, I don’t know how you missed it !!!!!

  2. Bud is so funny. Pip liked to sit with her back legs on something much higher than the rest of her …. but Bud takes the biscuit!!

    I have to say I wouldn’t have noticed anything was wrong with your aran knitting if you hadn’t said anything. But I’m a bit like you – if I notice it, it annoys the hell out of me and then I start frogging …. (just done that on a sweater … wish I’d noticed sooner as there was a lot to frog!).

  3. I stared at that knitting for ages before I saw the mistake. You are a perfectionist!
    Your patience is outstanding. Being a patient is a full-time job.

  4. I like the statement made by some bigwig or other that nothing is perfect and so he deliberately had a mistake made in some work that was being done – nothing critical – and it was part of the ‘art’ he felt. So I didn’t see any mistakes you made. It’s all your glorious art!

  5. Love Buddy’s relaxing, yoga-like pose.

    And the Myeloma buddies continue to be some of the cutest things I have ever seen.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s