Here is a warning for anyone who has cats but loves scented candles. I was in the living room practising my relaxation and had lit my lavender scented candle when my lovely Russian Blue cat Smirnoff wandered in. Before I could stop him he had jumped on the table and tried to sniff the candle. There was a squeak and he took off up the stairs like he'd been shot. Fortunately Andrew was sitting at the kitchen table studying so he went upstairs and brought Smirnoff back down. A quick but thorough examination revealed no damage except for some missing whiskers. I have used many scented candles, insense burners etc in the thirteen years Smirnoff has been with us and he has never tried to sniff anything before. I've no idea what possessed him to sniff this one. From now on the candle will be put in a place Smirnoff cannot get to though I doubt he will try to do that again. Poor pussy, lost his dignity until the whiskers grow back but at least it wasn't more serious.
Plucked up the courage to ring my mother yesterday anticipating some fallout from my sister's visit but no she was perfectly OK, mainly because she hasn't yet seen my sister. So another week passes without me having to act as peace maker, lovely.
Off to the Warfarin clinic again this afternoon so a chance to see how my needle phobia therapy is progressing. I am having to bribe one of my son's to come with me this time though. The problem with my local hospital is parking, there is no access to any part of the hospital by car so whichever car park you do use leaves you with a good long walk. The cost is another matter. It used to be £2.50 for four hours now it is £4 for three hours though they do give you the first twenty minutes free. Whoop-de-doo, fat lot of good that is when everything is at least a ten minute walk away. As a result of the hospital being more interested in money than its patients, my husband always comes with me and drops me off as close to where I need to be as possible then goes and finds some street parking nearby. After I've finished at the clinic I call him and he returns to pick me up. Today Andrew came with us as I cannot walk even the shortish distance to the clinic this arrangement offers. The place was packed with OAP's as usual and we had to tuck ourselves into a corner so that the old biddies wouldn't trip over my wheelchair. I usually draw some curious looks as I tend to be, at fifty, one of the youngest there. Being youngish and in a wheelchair meant that I was suddenly the focus of attention as some openly discussed what could be the matter with me.
When my name was called Andrew expertly weaved his way through the forest of walking sticks and into the cubical. I offered my arm and the nurse tied a strip of rubber around my bicep, this is when I usually start hyperventilating but today I was perfectly calm. The needle was produced and I remained quite calm, it was only when the needle was in and blood was being draw that I started to feel a bit panicky. A definite improvement though it has to be said the nurse remembered me and used the smallest needle she could find. Nevertheless I was quite pleased and am looking forward to building on this development in future sessions.
Read some sad news today regarding a fellow PH sufferer. Dan has had a Hickman line for the past ten years and has been fairly well on it but now, as it tends to do, his PH is progressing and the line is no longer enough. In February Dan went for an assessment to have a heart/lung transplant where he was told that he was far to well for transplant. He went for another assessment recently as his health was deteriorating and this time was told he was too ill for a transplant and would die on the table if they tried. How can this happen? Surely one or other of the assessments must have been wrong in the first place for there to be such a difference in a couple of months. Dan is refusing to give up and is doing what he can to get as fit as he can in the hope that they will assess him again and change their minds. Dan also has a blog and it can be found using the Joey Pouch link to the right of the page. Hoping you win the fight Dan.
Plucked up the courage to ring my mother yesterday anticipating some fallout from my sister's visit but no she was perfectly OK, mainly because she hasn't yet seen my sister. So another week passes without me having to act as peace maker, lovely.
Off to the Warfarin clinic again this afternoon so a chance to see how my needle phobia therapy is progressing. I am having to bribe one of my son's to come with me this time though. The problem with my local hospital is parking, there is no access to any part of the hospital by car so whichever car park you do use leaves you with a good long walk. The cost is another matter. It used to be £2.50 for four hours now it is £4 for three hours though they do give you the first twenty minutes free. Whoop-de-doo, fat lot of good that is when everything is at least a ten minute walk away. As a result of the hospital being more interested in money than its patients, my husband always comes with me and drops me off as close to where I need to be as possible then goes and finds some street parking nearby. After I've finished at the clinic I call him and he returns to pick me up. Today Andrew came with us as I cannot walk even the shortish distance to the clinic this arrangement offers. The place was packed with OAP's as usual and we had to tuck ourselves into a corner so that the old biddies wouldn't trip over my wheelchair. I usually draw some curious looks as I tend to be, at fifty, one of the youngest there. Being youngish and in a wheelchair meant that I was suddenly the focus of attention as some openly discussed what could be the matter with me.
When my name was called Andrew expertly weaved his way through the forest of walking sticks and into the cubical. I offered my arm and the nurse tied a strip of rubber around my bicep, this is when I usually start hyperventilating but today I was perfectly calm. The needle was produced and I remained quite calm, it was only when the needle was in and blood was being draw that I started to feel a bit panicky. A definite improvement though it has to be said the nurse remembered me and used the smallest needle she could find. Nevertheless I was quite pleased and am looking forward to building on this development in future sessions.
Read some sad news today regarding a fellow PH sufferer. Dan has had a Hickman line for the past ten years and has been fairly well on it but now, as it tends to do, his PH is progressing and the line is no longer enough. In February Dan went for an assessment to have a heart/lung transplant where he was told that he was far to well for transplant. He went for another assessment recently as his health was deteriorating and this time was told he was too ill for a transplant and would die on the table if they tried. How can this happen? Surely one or other of the assessments must have been wrong in the first place for there to be such a difference in a couple of months. Dan is refusing to give up and is doing what he can to get as fit as he can in the hope that they will assess him again and change their minds. Dan also has a blog and it can be found using the Joey Pouch link to the right of the page. Hoping you win the fight Dan.
Have you ever considered getting a test meter so that you can check the INR yourself?
ReplyDeleteI used to go for a test once a week for about 9 years. I'm on the high range (INR 3.0 to 4.0) and not particularly stable. About 18 months ago I purchased a CoaguChek XS meter from Roche, and have persuaded the local lab to extend my test interval to 1 month. It uses a tiny finger prick device - no needles!
I have thought about it but am put off by the cost. All the ones I've looked at seem horrendously expensive.
ReplyDeleteAnd it doesn't really solve the problem because, as you know, I still need to have drips and things put in when in hospital. It's a good idea though and worth thinking about again.