A Pain, Some Wood and A Boat
Having had some abdominal discomfort since January and subsequently changing doctors due to lack of support, I decided to take things into my own hands. After our lovely break in Pembrokeshire a few months ago, I called into Werndale clinic on our way home to ask if they could offer any private MRI diagnostics. They could if I saw one of their consultants first, so I opted for a urologist as a starting point as my dad had prostate cancer and it’s one of those things in the back of my mind. So after an expensive “digitus rectus insertus” consultation and blood test, I was booked in for an MRI with contrast imaging – kerching. An interesting experience accompanied with much clunking over the top of Radio 2, followed by a cannulae insertion, contrast solution injection and more clunking / Radio 2.
The results showed a smaller than normal prostate, a normal PSA reading, but some slight shadowing. This was the trigger for another procedure, the dreaded trans rectal biopsy which my father described in his book as the most painful experience he had ever endured. Fortunately, my doctor gave me loads of local anaesthetic and it wasn’t as bad as predicted after what initially felt like a traffic cone being inserted. At least the theatre staff had a sense of humour as the doctor was ribbed about “his time would come” for this procedure. I was also dosed with three different antibiotics to help reduce unexpected complications. The doctor asked afterwards how I was and was very pleased when I gave him an 8/10 score, and no, I don’t want to come back for another one. I now have to wait till December for the results appointment.
My sister and Steve had a new garden room delivered and it arrived on numerous wood pallets. I am now the proud owner of multiple piles of pallet wood of various thicknesses and lengths. Steve delivered about three loads and I broke down the balance for another two. I have all winter to plan some wood based projects for next year and anything surplus will be added to the kindling pile.
A number of months ago I had a daft idea of buying an old dingy to use as a shelter, pond or large planter for the garden. Eventually, I found one for £50 delivered on Marketplace classed as “a project”. When it arrived, it was just what I wanted and defiantly not even duck pond safe. I slapped on some paint to tidy it up a bit, dragged it into position with my ride on mower and then surrounded it with 6 bags of gravel. It then took 12 75l bags of compost to fill and numerous plants and bulbs to finish off. We christened it Juniper II and now wait for next years growing spurt to see our results.
