When I checked on the dentists website that the appointments I’d booked by phone were showing up, I noticed a section called “invoices”. This showed payment for the three extractions I had a few days ago as due on 2nd June – it was then 4th June. I had never been sent an invoice, and there were no instructions on the website as to how to pay, and as I had to go into town anyway, I dropped in on the dentist and paid the expected £366.
Then on to my reason to going into town – ear wax removal. Unusually, my right ear (which was the one I’d been most worried about) was almost clear. The left one, however, was blocked solid, about six months after my last wax removal. As usual, it took a lot of determination on both the part of the audiologist and the student she was supervising to get things clear, but at least this time it wasn’t a case of giving up, asking me to repeat the olive oil for another week, and return. That was £60. I’ve been advised to put olive oil drops in once a fortnight as a preventative measure. I did get a stock of free NHS hearing aid batteries, which was useful – I’ve been using up the vast stock that was lurking in Mum’s bedside table after she died, and most of them were very short life as they were distinctly past their best.
On a more positive note, assorted bits to make wireless headphones work with the video projector and satellite feed arrived, have been installed, and do do the job.
This afternoon was a trip to the dentist for three extractions. Lower front teeth, just about my only remaining ones (there’s a crowned upper rear left molar, and one central lower incisor left). That all went very painlessly, and although I did go very woozy for a short period I didn’t actually faint. The dentist used some kind of automated tooth-removal tool, rather than gripping the tooth and pulling, which seemed to go well, and he didn’t have to hold my head in a vice-like grip (unlike some previous extractions elsewhere.)
That all means a diet of mush and soup for the next week or so – a large shepherd’s pie has been made that will do several days. The gums will have to settle for eight weeks or so before the moulds can be taken for new dentures, and I’ve decided that it’s worth getting both sets made at the same time (to ensure a decent bite, and for colour matching) but it’s going to be rather expensive. All told, the course of treatment – extractions and new dentures – is going to be a couple of thousand quid, but I think it’s worth it. I’ve had dentures for a decade, and they were last modified eight years ago to add a couple of extra teeth that had had to be removed.
There’s some suggestion that bacteria from dodgy teeth and gums can get into the bloodstream, leading to low-level inflammation and other stuff (including early Altzheimer’s), so there’s that consideration as well as the cosmetic one.
Nap time! Outside temperature is 27.4C in the shade (I’m in a bit of an urban heat island). Fortunately, having bough an air conditioner after suffering heatstroke last year, the bedroom temperature is a quite enjoyable 21.4C despite being south-facing.
It’s the first time for nearly a fortnight that I’ve felt confident enough to have a shower. It is deeply scary when my right leg goes through a spell of collapsing without warning … and I can’t wear my fall alarm when showering. Sitting on the loo scrubbing myself with a damp flannel is not really much of a substitute for showering!
Thankfully, this spell of agony from dodgy discs (2x prolapsed, 1x herniated) seems to be on its way out, which is very good news.
The overnight change from it being hot enough for me to scamper round the garden in just a pair of shorts to this morning’s grey and damp weather has hit me hard. Despite having taken enough painkillers to make me a bit stupid, and sat for a couple of hours in the heated back-brace, I’m still in a lot of pain and my right leg no worky. So, crawl upstairs, lie flat, and watch recordings of “The Victorian Kitchen Garden” on the bedroom video-projector. Hopefully, thing will improve a bit this afternoon. I *hate* these reminders of just how fragile my normally fairly mild disablement is!
I’ve had a fall alarm from Buddi for nearly three years. I felt I needed one as I live on my own and have osteoporosis – the risk of a fall breaking a serious bone is not to be ignored. My feelings on this got stronger this New Year, when my sister (who is five years younger) had a fall and broke bones, from which she is still suffering the fallout.
Sadly, Buddi informed me earlier this week that they are discontinuing the service. Bugger! I need an alarm that is GPS based and uses a mobile network (so it works out of the house), and on a wristband. I find bulky pendants impossible, both because of sensory issues with them (due to Asperger’s) and because having a lumpy thing with a big red button tends to make people think that one’s faculties are in decline along with physical ones.
All the (rather few) possible replacements are bulkier than Buddi, as they incorporate watches, “fitness” stuff, and suchlike. However, I’ve settled on one from Stride, which I will be getting to grips with over the next few days. Roughly £60 to buy, with about £20 a month subscription (including fall detection). The call centre actually seems better than Buddi, in that it will try to determine the best course of action – and has a note of my key lockbox number, in case I’m at home but incapable, so ambulance or whoever can get in.
It’s been a difficult few days. Good Friday is always a day I set aside for contemplation, anyway (I also set New Year’s Eve aside for the same reason), and this year it was on 3rd April, which was my mum’s birthday.
At the end of last week, brother Simon told me that he had minor but curable skin cancer. On Good Friday I had an email response to a card I’d sent from my sister Jane – she’s having enormous pain from the wrist she broke at New Year (it’s CPRS again), and is having to have paid assistance in the house.
Today – Easter Monday – is 6th April, which is the first anniversary of committing my mother’s ashes to the River Evenlode that she loved.
A bright spot was being invited to Clare and Ian’s last night. Roast beef, which was glorious, and good conversation: a welcome break.
The river Evenlode, after scattering mum’s ashes in 2025.
Today was vaguely sunny in patches, and the first day this year that I’ve managed to spend time in the garden. Last year’s tomato pots were emptied and cleaned, and the spent compost put on the bed that will have beans in it. The “done” side of the rotary composter was emptied – the “compostable” Waitrose bags haven’t really composted at all, and the rest was soggy and squelchy: I think I’ll have to drill better drainage holes in the beast. The compost, such as it was, was trenched in where the runner beans will go.
As the stock of 8-foot bamboos bought about ten years ago are now nearly all broken or otherwise past it, I’ve ordered a metal construction to grow runner beans and climbing French beans up. A bit over £30, so if it does a few years I’ll be happy. Indoors, courgettes and a squash have been sown (tomatoes were potted on last week, though I had to re-sow the “Monkton Wylde” as only one germinated).
The project to get rid of the gas cooker progresses (slowly and expensively). I’ve accepted a quote to run an electrical supply (which will also provide a connection point for a future air-source heat pump when the ten-year-old gas boiler dies). Today, I’ve booked in a “gas safe” (was CORGI) to cap off the gas as soon as the kitchen work is done. I also said goodbye to the hob kettle – I’m now the proud owner of an all-singing, all-dancing electric kettle that boils in less than half the time – photo below! The whole project is going to be around £3,000 by the time I’ve added in the cost of the cooker, redecoration (which I’ll do myself, but materials cost) and suchlike. However, a cooker with a wipe-clean surface (induction rings) and a catalytic self-cleaning oven will remove an enormous housework/cleaning burden that I really haven’t coped well with. It also will mark a stage in getting rid of fossil fuels in this house, which is unlikely to save money but which is very much driven by my Green conscience and awareness of climate change.
Also electrical: the Mayfield Road house electrical inspection came back as “unsatisfactory”. Part of this is non-double-insulated fan/light fittings put up by Clare and Ian, which Ian has agreed to deal with. Sadly, the fuseboard cover is broken, so a new fuseboard is needed, which is going to be a couple of hundred quid (including labour), but I clearly do need a valid electrical inspection test certificate.
Last Saturday was the Rainbow Hill & Fort Royal “Big Day Out”. Based in the old chapel opposite Mayfield Road, about 40 people in total over the day. I was there all day, in a “support” role: opening doors when people were carrying things, helping set furniture, looking after the occasional lost-looking person, and so on. Form 0930 to 1615, on my feet most of the time; nearly 10,400 steps for the day.
Monday was also an active day, at rather over 6,000 steps. A GP appointment in the afternoon, postponed from a fortnight ago. All tests came back negative, and apparently I seem to be in quite good shape for my age. However, I’m still troubled by aches in my arms and struggling to keep weight down – I’m mulling over a private checkup and tests.
A good day yesterday. Gethyn and Sue came over for coffee here, and then we went into town. Parked in the Copenhagen Street car park, and went towards Bowns. Council workers were hosing the mud of the quay walkway – the Severn has just got back within its banks, Although there were steps up to the Browns entrance, they were blocked off. Uncertain as to whether it was open, we walked round the back, where it clearly was.
A pleasant lunch, but brought to a bit of an abrupt close when I got a phone call from the Green Party saying that a delivery driver was outside my house – where was I? I’d actually not expected the unused 45,000 sheets of paper to be collected until next week, as today is Election Day in Gorton & Denton, where our candidate stands a very good chance, and I’d expected everyone to be far too busy to deal with it. Fortunately, we’d all finished eating, so were able to scamper back to Gethyn’s car and back to Church Road. They had other plans for the afternoon, so it was a hasty goodbye.
Today, I’m not feeling great. Overcast morning, and when I woke from an early nap the rain had reurned. My back really did not appreciate it! Fire lit around 4pm, and settling in for a long evening – today Worcestershire County Council considers its budget, with a County rise of nearly 10% (the City’s bit of it is only 3%), which looks like passing. It’s the Gorton & Denton by-election, and some good pix of WGP folk who’ve gone up to help on social media. It doesn’t look as though there will actually be a BBC election special, just rolling updates on the BBC News channel, though I think that Sky are doing an actual programme. Result expected sometime around 3 or 4 … I’m guessing it may well go to recounts.
And I’m overdue for a veggie day. I must summon up the energy to make an apple pie for later, which can also do if I get peckish while waiting for the byelection result. Rather a shortage of other veggie stuff, so it looked like making a batch of chickpea fritters (frozen ratatouille to go with them), but in the end I exhaustedly settled for baked beans on mix toast. Which used up the last of the loaf, so the bread machine is currently working on a replacement. That won’t be ready until well after my usual bed-time, but I’m trying to stay up or, failing that, awake for the by-election results.
As it turns out, I could have had an extra three hours in bed this morning! I had a GP appointment due at 0905, which meant getting up shortly before 0600 so I could shower, shave, get a couple of mugs of coffee inside me, review the test results and emails, and so on. I’d planned to leave at 0830 – it’s only a 20-minute walk normally, but it’s uphill all the way, and my walking is not brilliant at the moment. At about 0810, I had a phone call from the surgery to say that the doctor had rung in sick, so they’d have to re-schedule, and would ring me later to do so.
Like many autistic people, I’m really not good with short-notice changes to plans, though if it’s a change that is clearly necessary (as this was) I can cope with just having a vauely unsettled feeling, rather than the major problems that avoidable or unnecessary changes cause me. But the unsettlement is enough to glitch my executive function – having reckoned on stopping off at the post office on the way back from the surgery, I now need to find a mental slot for that, given that supermarket delivery is booked for the second half of the morning, and I’ll defintely need a longer post-lunch nap due to the short night. But it’s a “tracked 24” postal item to the solicitor as part of the final phase of dealing with my late mother’s estate, so can’t just be stuck in the nearest postbox … Aaargh!
