Life in Middle Girth

Monday, 11.16pm

This new keyboard is a joy to type on.

Okay, a brief catch up. Hard to be brief about something when your every waking (and half your sleeping) hours are spent mulling it over.

Hubby’s aforementioned pooh tests came back as positive for blood traces, so the next stage was a gastroscopy and colonoscopy. The drawback here was that a day’s fasting was required before the procedures - and that’s a pretty big ask for a diabetic. However, with the aid of apple juice, lemonade, jelly and other fun stuff he managed his sugar levels, and at the same time didn’t have too much grief from the sachets of picoprep he had to take to “cleanse the colon”. He expected to spend the day on the loo but it wasn’t too bad at all. Mind you, the price of the stuff cleansed the wallet pretty thoroughly!

Fear plays a large part in these things, but if you ever have to go through it, don’t stress too much - although you don‘t get a general anaesthetic, the drugs are wonderful, the only drugs you are actually allowed to enjoy! The gastroscopy was fine, he remembers nothing about that, and the colonoscopy went well (he quite enjoyed watching his innards on the TV screen but felt nothing physically). Well, when I say went well, the procedure did but the results weren’t so hot - he has a large polyp at the end of his bowel which was too big to be removed endoscopally (is that a word?) so the doctor took some biopsies off it and we are awaiting results on that now. He said one part of it looked abnormal but not to worry, it had to come out and once it was in a bucket it wouldn’t be a problem. Sounds like they will remove quite a large section of bowel and stitch the rest back together, maybe a week in hospital if they can do it laproscopically. Now we are waiting to hear from the surgeon and are beginning to fret as the doc who did the first bit thought we’d hear last Friday or today, but so far, nothing.

So, the cloud is still there, threatening. Actually Father bear took the news of the needed operation very well, far better than when the possibility of something was rearing its ugly head. Well I thought he was but we had the most dreadful row on Saturday on leaving a function at squash…long story, we’d all had too much to drink probably but it had been a cheerful time, when wham he went all stupid about driving home. I made Mike block the truck in so he couldn’t drive, pretty staunch of the kid seeing his pride and joy could easily have been backed into by something with bullbars - then I removed the keys and got my lineage roared at me. Small dissolved into a quivering jelly, medium got the angries, large took them home, and I took off on foot after father bear. We had a slanging match in full public view on the footpath, he said I was a *@# bitch who didn’t even care so I slapped him (!) and we power walked from there, freezing our butts off. God it was the most awful thing, but no matter how little or much alcohol was involved that was the most hurtful thing he could have said, that I didn‘t care. I said that if I didn’t care I’d have let him drive, and if I was really a bitch then I would have called the cops and told them he was driving. Oh yes I know he’s under stress. Aren’t I? I know I shouldn’t have lost it but I have been turning myself inside out trying to keep things on an even keel between him and the kids and work and worrying myself stupid……..for nothing? My arse.

Sorry, I have vented now.

No, there’s more I need to unload. The day following, nothing. No apology, no acknowledgement of what had happened, nothing. Not a bloody thing. Towards the end of the day I spat out how I felt totally devastated as much by his silence as by what had happened, and tried to explain how completely gobsmacked I was and how much it had hurt. Oh sorry he said. It’ll take more than sodding sorry I said. And that’s it. As far as he seems to be concerned, that’s it over now. All better. Arse again.

Of course I am being totally unreasonable given the circumstances which is bloody unfair.

I think I’d better stop - I know I’ll feel guilty about this rant. Bugger.

New coinage came into effect today, its funny. So little. The oldies are going to hate it.

Went to Parent Teacher interviews tonight, all well on that front, good on ya Greg.

Bed time. Amazing how much distance there can be between the edges of one bed.

Jaybee.

Where do I start tonight? Wade right in.

Husband hasn’t been feeling too well over the last wee while, I mean apart from his recently discovered hip deformity (where was his Plunket nurse when she should have been doing hip checks?) and his diabetes, in fact he was feeling so rotten one day he decided to visit the doctor. Following day he felt much better and decided not to go but I nagged, and off he went. He was worried about prostate trouble, or more precisely, the exam for prostate trouble. Seems that the doc couldn’t locate any problems there but sent him for bloods which he did and forgot about. Move forward a week - phone call from doc at nearly nine o’clock at night requesting he go for more bloods. Odd time to call we thought but as the doc was leaving the following day for holiday we put it down to late night paperwork catch up. New bloods duly taken, but hubby unwilling to phone for results - however, he needed a new prescription which I usually do over the phone but I used it as an excuse for him to go on in and find out about the tests at the same time. Well, he’s come away shell shocked really. He’s anaemic, even though he has a good diet, and his blood count is very low for no known reason (no injuries or nose bleeds etc), and the doctor mentioned the possibility of bowel cancer having these effects, was there any familial history? No, says Brent, completely forgetting Uncle Jim and Grandad who both died of it…. He now has to take poo samples for 3 days then more bloods a week after that then, depending on what they find, undergo a complete investigation (what the hell does that mean? Camera up the spout? Surgery??) He is convinced he’s got IT and is terrified. And its tearing him apart. And I don't know what to do. Couldn’t it be his anti-inflammatories causing stomach bleeds? The doc wouldn’t give him any more, dished out Panadeine or Panadol instead, and Losec, and iron tablets (felt like I was doing the groceries by the time I collected that lot from the chemist, plus two lots of insulin, and diabetes drugs as well). His back has been very sore this last week with no anit inflams, so I’ve been rubbing Voltaren on it, with some success thank goodness. Watch this space, and cross your fingers for us.

We’ve had a big squash tournament on this week, Brent played somehow but didn’t do any good, litle wonder really; Mike got runner up in his Division (nice Rimu CD tower), and I was pleased with the way the kitchen went even though we weren’t as busy as last year. I think it helped occupy his thoughts, though he broke down at one stage while telling a good friend…I don’t know how to do or say or be. Have mentioned the possibility to the big boys, but as daughter and I are not talking haven’t told her. Sent her an email about something else tonight to try to open up the lines of communication…..I’m feeling guilty on one hand because I told her as she was leaving last time to think carefully about coming back again, she might find the locks changed - remember we’d had two excruciating weeks with her in residence and I was at my wit’s end - but on the other hand, we don’t need to be treated like that. But if her Dad does have major problems I’d hate her to hear it from his mother (who loves to share bad news) or somebody else. Heck.

School goes back tomorrow. Duncs doesn’t want to go but he’ll be ok once he gets there. We should have had getting up practice because he’s been watching TV in my bed till about ten every morning! I’ll have trouble too - we didn’t get much sleep last night what with getting home late from squash, and the state of mind, then Brent got cramp….

On a lighter note, our lovely friends (that he confided to) took us out for a beautiful lunch at one of their favourite haunts in Wanganui - Indigo Café - just what we needed to lift the mood. It was such a glorious blue sky day that afterwards we walked right round Virginia Lake. There was a bunch of half a dozen old men racing their radio controlled model yachts, neat to watch. They were having great fun. Wasn’t that a nice thing for them to do?

Bloody cat bit me this morning, his top fangs fair sliced my hand open. He never ever scratches but those teeth are razor sharp and do a lot of damage. I think he’s psycho - you just KNOW when he’s about to attack, he can be as sweet as sugar then his blue eyes turn black, literally, and you know its coming. The only thing you can do to avert it is grab a water pistol - I have several stashed around the house for that purpose, and even if they’re empty, the sight of one will halt him before he springs.

Ok, enough for now. I took the precaution of typing this in works first tonight, getting savvy in my old age. I’m about to do another Colin letter, I have a sneaking suspicion it’s the first one on the hospital ship.

Sold two things on Trade Me!! Two more I should say - getting hooked I think.

Till next time,

Jaybee