I don’t get it!
How is this within Trumps remit? How can he make decisions on Ukraines future with out the full involvement of Zelensky?
This is nothing more than a land grab deal between Trump and Putin, and the price will be the erasure of Ukraine as a sovereign territory.
This is so wrong on so many levels
A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with NAFLD, or Non Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease, to give its full name. Or, to put it another way, Cirrhosis of the liver.
Over the last couple of years, I have been prodded and poked as part of the monitoring process. As yet, I am not on any medication, but I do get regular lectures about my diet and my lack of exercise.
My Hepatology consultant has wanted to carry out biopsies to prove her diagnosis, but I have resisted. I really don’t fancy the idea of someone pushing a needle into my side.So far she has had to make do with me having regular Fibroscans, blood tests and the occasional gastroscopy.
And so it was, last Tuesday, after two years had elapsed, it was decided that it was time for me to undergo another gastroscopy.
I vaguely recalled that the previous procedure wasn’t actually as unpleasant as everyone had told me. So, when I presented myself at reception in the Queen Alexandra Hospital Endoscopy Department, I was fairly relaxed.
On arrival, I was asked to complete a two page questionnaire regarding my medical history. Given the number of times that I have provided this information, over the last few weeks, I question the need.
After all, my height and weight are still unchanged, I still wear glasses, and no, I still don’t have any metalwork inside my body. The drugs I take on a daily basis are also unchanged. You would think, in this technological age, that they could print out my record and get me to confirm that nothing had changed. It would save bit of time.
Anyhow, questionnaire duly completed, it was time for me to head round to where the procedure was due to be carried out. I followed the nurse, like a dutiful hound called to heel. But first, we made a detour into a small office space where the nurse talked me through the questionnaire and I pretty much had to answer all the questions….. Again!!! We could have done the form filling and verbal confirmation all at one go. The only difference was that the nurse decided that I needed to provide a blood sample for my blood sugar,
Oh and I had to sign a consent form and in return I was given a standard hospital bracelet.
And then we walked round to the theatre. Where, once again, I was interrogated. Name, rank, serial number.
Then it was down to business. Sit on the table. Lay back. Open your mouth and hold your breath while we spray this stuff, Xylocaine, to the back of your throat. I had been warned that the spray tasted of rotten bananas. Perhaps not quite that bad, but more like overripe bananas. The spray is required to reduce/stop the natural gag reflex when the endoscope is inserted.
As requested, I rolled over on to my left side. And then the doctor was there with endoscope in hand.
He suggested that I might want to close my eyes as he began his hunt for varices.
But I didn’t want to miss the tv show. Unlike two years ago, I had a screen to look at. Full HD, I reckon. So I watched as the camera began its journey down my throat. The doctor was giving a full running commentary as the camera travelled down. It’s a bit like a train journey where the name of the next destination is announced.
Soon we were in my stomach which, much to my surprise, was empty apart from some fluids. In my head I envisaged the doctor, wearing a miners head lamp and wellies, sploshing around in my gastric juices. Strangely, I could feel the endoscope moving moving under my hand, which was laying on my belly, as the doctor had a good look around. So the gastric train reached the terminus and then began the return journey. Like any good tourist, the doctor paused the extraction to take a couple of photos.
And then we were done. Endoscope extracted and the doctor was saying that all was clear. In medispeak “No endoscopic signs of portal hypertension”, no varices.
After a few minutes I was taken to a discharge waiting room while the doctor was writing up his report. A nurse appeared and presented me with an “After gastroscopy care leaflet” Nothing to eat or drink for an hour. This is to allow the effects of the throat anaesthetic to wear off. Too soon and I could choke. After an hour, just small sips of water and if OK gently increase intake back to normal.
I was also given a copy of the doctors report and informed that I would be called in for a repeat performance in three years. And so I was formally discharged and allowed to go home.
Obviously I am very pleased that nothing sinister was seen and perhaps slightly less pleased at the thought of doing this again. But I am glad that they are continuing to monitor for the adverse symptoms of NAFLD.
A photo from a good few years ago. Taken at Manor Farm, Hampshire
This Peregrine Falcon was part of a display focussing on birds of prey.
Spitfire and Hurricane pilots demonstrating some close formation flying at the Goodwood Revival.
Sorry if I have posted this before.
This is just a nostalgic photo from a family gathering at my parents’ home in Hastings, many years ago.
So, Maureen is the eldest of Kathy’s daughters. And, Kathy was my mums eldest sister.
Mum and Kathy were two of six siblings!
I’m not sure of the occasion or why they were sitting with ‘wellies to the fore’ but I do know that getting any of them to sit quietly for a photo would have been a challenge as they all, like me, could talk the hind leg off a donkey.
Whilst I don’t yet have a date for my surgery, the NHS is keeping me on my toes. I recently had to make a trip to the hospital to hand over some more of my blood.
I knew they would want to check to see if the iron infusion had done the trick. So I already had that appointment in my calendar.
However, a telephone call out of the blue informed me that they wanted more blood. Apparently they needed to check my liver function and also to ensure that my blood is clotting correctly.
Over the last few weeks I have had so many needles inserted I beginning to think I’m in an episode of Hancocks Half Hour, namely the Blood Donor.
Here I am continuing on my nostalgia trail and, following on from, the previous evenings hard rock blast with Uriah Heep and friends, we were out again.
Two nights on the trot is considered to be hard partying at my age.
And so, Friday night found us sitting, with eager anticipation, in Portsmouth Guildhall. We were there to see Brit Floyd, a Pink Floyd tribute band.
Gerry and I had been to see Pink Floyd back in February of 1972 at the Colston Hall, Bristol, when they, Floyd, were on their Dark Side of The Moon tour with complete quadrophonic sound system. The audio and visual show back then was stunning. So we were wondering if Brit Floyd were going to be up to snuff.
Well we needn’t have worried.Brit Floyd hit the stage running and never slowed down.
The sound was spot on and, dare I say it, they were note perfect.
They were on stage for around two hours and thirty minutes. Performing numbers from many Floyd albums. Including Meddle, Dark Side Of The Moon, Animals, The Wall, The Division Bell, and Wish You Were Here.
The central theme for this evenings show was to celebrate the 50th anniversary of “Wish You Were Here” which they played in its entirety.
The entire show was stunning. The quality of the sound system was second to none, the laser light show was fabulous. The projected imagery was spot on, some of it was the original Floyd material but had been updated to include some of the current political figures.
Back in 1970, when I was just eighteen years of age, a fledgling english rock band called Uriah Heep released their first studio album. That album ” … Very ‘Eavy ….. Very ‘Umble”, struck a chord with me and probably set the foundation of my musical tastes.
Over the years I saw the Heep live, several times, bought many of their albums and still listen to them regularly.
So imagine my delight when I found that they were touring…
So tickets purchased I waited with anticipation. Of course there were some concerns. After so many years, most of the original band members have passed on. Would the current line up sound anything like the band that I followed.
And so, last Thursday, I arrived at the De La Warr Pavillion, Bexhill. Before I could answer the Uriah Heep questions I was going to be entertained by two support acts.
The first to perform was Tyketto, a band from New York, USA. Having never heard of them I assumed they were a relatively new band. How wrong could I be. They have been around since 1987!!!
They gave a very good account of themselves and were well received by me and the rest of the audience.
Following Tyketto, the next act very quickly set up their kit. They were April Wine and had also passed below my rock radar. Also not a new band, having formed in 1969, in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Although categorised, like Tyketto, as Hard Rock, their style is very different and dare I say it, more complex. Once again their reception was very positive.
But then it was time for the main event, the reason most of us were there.
After a surprisingly short time, the support bands kit was cleared away and the stage was set for Uriah Heep.
Also, like April Wine, Uriah Heep formed in 1969. Fifty six years entertaining their fans.
In that time they have produced some 25 studio albums, 20 live albums, many compilation albums and singles.
Their sound is very much as I remember although the current lead singer Bernie Shaw has a different sound to David Byron who fronted the band back in the day.
There is no doubt he has the stage presence and the voice needed to front Uriah Heep
Of course they did all the favourites as well as some newer songs. For me the highlight was to see and hear the lead guitarist, Mick Box, perform his unique magic.
Mick Box is the last surviving, original band member.
All too soon the show came to an end. This show was the final one of their UK tour.
Although the tumour in my colon is trying to hog the limelight we have found time to deal with other medical matters.
First up my wife had an appointment at St Mary’s Community Health Campus in Portsmouth. The appointment was made back in December and was scheduled for 13:00 20th February. We arrived twenty minutes early. As per our last visit there was no one in reception.
So nobody to register the fact that we have arrived or to inform the clinician.
While sitting twiddling our thumbs I was reading the various notices one of which caught my eye. It was directed at deaf patients, advising them to go to reception who would advise the clinician of their presence as they may not hear their name being called. Brilliant, if there had been a receptionist.
This lack of receptionist became an issue for us as we still had not been called by 13:20. So I can’t speak to anyone and having wandered around to see if our clinician was present I decided to phone the hospital.
Amazingly, someone answered the phone almost immediately. I explained our situation. Her first comment was that all appointments had been cancelled. Of course I challenged this, asking when and how patients had been informed.
In the meantime she is sifting through my wifes notes from her last appointment. Informing me that there was nothing about a follow-up appointment, no record on the system, no indication that a notification had been sent out.
We were able to tell her that the clinician had, at the last appointment, written the appointment details on the original invitation letter.
We were promised that an incident was being raised and that we would be contacted to discuss it further
The net of this was that we had had a wasted journey, 14 mile round trip, as well as having to pay for parking.
Later this same day I had a totally different experience. At short notice I was invited to attend the Hepatology Department for a Fibroscan. I have these every six months or so since I was diagnosed with NAFLD (Non Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease).
If you have never had one of these it is probably simplest of scans. It is a form of ultrasound and the sensation for the patient is that it feels like someone has flicked you on your side.
So, just before 16:00, I presented myself at the department reception. Yes it was manned!! Hardly had my bum hit the seat in the waiting area than I was called through to the treatment room. A few minutes later, after being scanned, I was on my way out of the hospital.
The following day we received a call from the clinic supervisor. She was very apologetic and put our experience down to human error. Nothing like stating the obvious but they were doing something, and quickly.
So we have a new appointment set for next week.
We also discussed the lack of receptionist. Obviously the receptionist is entitled to a lunch break but there should be some form of cover. Especially when there are active clinics underway. If no receptionist then there should be some better signage giving useful information like telephone numbers to be called.
If I didn’t have a smart phone with access to the internet I would have been stuffed.
Thursday 13th February, and another appointment. Once again, at the Queen Alexandra Hospital. I’ll soon have my own allocated parking space if my visits carry on at this rate.
This time my appointment is with an anaesthetist in the Outpatients department.
My appointment was at 10:00, and right on the button, I was whisked away for some observations. I had my blood pressure, weight, and height measured, again. I was also given an ECG. And then it was back to the waiting room where I had time to make friends, playing peek-a-boo with a toddler.
After a short while my name was called by the anaesthetist wearing an amazing pair of electric blue shoes.
After the usual pleasantries she revealed that we had met before. Ten years ago, when I went in for the brachytherapy treatment for my prostate. She was the anaesthetist who drew the short straw for my procedure. As a patient I was not very cooperative, not on purpose. With me sat on the table in theatre she attempted to give me an epidural. Three times!! My body just refused to play ball, would not give up my spinal fluid so no further attempts were made.
Once the procedure was underway it was time for me to misbehave again. I unconciously decided to vomit. She unfortunately had to deal with that, and call in Dynarod to suck out my tubes.
I apologised to her as in my head I was to blame, having had rather a lot of cheese as my last meal the night before the procedure. Nobody told me that they tilted you head down to insert the nuclear seeds. She showed me the copious notes taken following that little episode but she was quite magnanimous. Noting my, as yet undiagnosed, type 2 diabetes which apparently can have the effect of slowing down your stomach process, causing “pooling” which in turn can cause regurgitation.
After reminiscing about old times we got down to the business in hand. We had the inevitable chat about my health in general and specifically focussing on weight, fitness and diet.
I was given a thorough but gentle arse kicking. Likening preparing for the operation to an athlete preparing for the olympics. Apparently the procedure will last about four hours and, although I will be unconcious laid out on the table, for my body it will be akin to running against Usain Bolt. So, as she put it, I need to be in the best possible shape to deal with the procedure but also the fitter I am the faster I will recover.
Exercise and weight loss are the order of the day, supplemented by plenty of practice with my spirometer. She wants me to up my daily walking. That shouldn’t be hard since it is negligible at the moment.
We also talked about diet with regard to my diabetes which can have a negative impact on my post op recovery. And right there is where I get into trouble.
In general the medics extol the benefits of a balanced diet, with plenty of fruit, vegetables, nuts, seeds and so forth. Quite often promoted as the mediterranean diet. Below is a typical chart promoting a balance diet. All stuff that I like.
Due to the location of my tumour which is partially blocking my bowel I have been advised to stay on a low residue diet which conflicts with the idea of a balanced diet. Which in turn also conflicts with a diabetic friendly diet.
What that means is that the only food that I can eat from the green zone is carrots which have been peeled and cooked until they are soft. I can have cucumber but I have to peel it and scoop out the seeds. From the yellow zone I cannot eat any of the wholegrain items. I can have potatoes cooked without their skins and not shown I can have white bread, rice and pasta.
Hang on a bit, actually, for my diabetes I should not be eating any quantity of carbohydrates as this gets turned into sugar, bad for diabetics. So between the diabetes and my tumour everything in the yellow zone is pretty much a no-no.
Things do get a little better when we look at that strange pink zone. I can eat the tinned tuna, chicken, fish, eggs, and mince. Although my tumour says no to fish skin and bones like you might get with sardines and pilchards. Meat is fine but no gristly bits, no bacon rind etc.
And on to the blue zone where I am allowed small amounts of cheese and milk.
And so, I am resigned to eating a mainly protein diet, not quite leaping into the full carnivor diet. Supplemented by squidgy overcooked root vegetables.
As if meal preparation wasn’t already difficult enough.
Ah well, as the anaesthetist says, it is only for a few weeks.
Sad to say, I still don’t have a date for my op.
WrAnTz 