Retirement health. A BBC article on my phone this morning was about Lenny Henry – ‘I tried to moonwalk and snapped a tendon in my ankle’. Not exactly the same as my injury but close enough to my Achilles heel damage. The one noticeable difference is that he knew exactly how his injury had happened, unusual though it may be. I on the other hand had no clue as to how my injury had occurred.
True, I’d been working in the vineyard the day before. In the same way I had one hundred times before that without any problem, so why now? And herein lies the problem I have with my health. Not the actual injury or condition, although that isn’t great. But why now, what’s the logic, why me at this point?
I know what you’ll say, you’ll say, simple, it’s your age. But hear me out because it seems to me it’s not quite as simple as that. My garage man tore his Achilles tendon but, as he was on his bike at the time he kinda knew how it happened and, incidentally, he’s only in his late fifties. And, while we’re on the age thing, a friend of Mrs Summerhouse’s sister tore hers circuit training, she is in her forties. So no ‘age logic’ there.
Back to me. Take the wobbliness when I walk. Sometimes I wobble and the next day, as straight as an arrow. Or my shaking hands. One day I’m guiding the wine glass to my lips with two quivering hands and the next, an unerring trajectory straight to my open mouth.
Incidentally while we’re talking wobbliness. I tried using a stick for the Achilles injury. Useless. Apparently you need lessons in how to walk with a stick. Ha. My attempts have simply made me feel even more hopeless. Surely not right.
And don’t even mention the various pains in my feet. The gouty pain (which is severe) comes and goes with no logic to it whatsoever. This can be replaced by other pains of a different type, location and strength, more or less debilitating, my Sciatica for example, with absolutely no explanation from either the medical profession or God him or herself as to why and when or even how painful. For feet as the location feel, free to change that location to shoulders, stomach, fingers. Pretty much whatever part of the body you care to name. And, as you’ve guessed, no logic whatsoever.
The next of my hospital visits is this week. This one for my enlarged prostate problem. Again which varies tremendously in its effects. I have no idea what I shall discover about this condition on this visit but I’m hoping for the standard miracle cure with little or no inconvenience to myself. Fat chance, you say.
After the negative result for the DAT scan for the Parkinson’s and, don’t get me wrong I’m very grateful for it, but now I have to have a CT scan in case I’ve had a minor stroke. No part of my body knowingly under-represented.
My blood tests also shortly to be conducted and with these comes the whole diabetes thing. There really isn’t time to worry too much about the diabetes. As I’ve written before my dance card is already full with the above.
But, that said, it’s nice to spread one’s worry more thinly instead, as at the time of waiting for Parkinson’s diagnosis, to have all the worry in one column. Cancer, heart attack, sorry no room for worrying about you. Hope I don’t regret writing that.
And while we’re on the health thing. I woke up Saturday morning with a sore throat, and then read on my phone that this now was the number one symptom of Covid (remember that?). I tested myself with the one, probably out of date, strip we had in the house. Sure enough the line rose to the C level. I’ve got it I thought. But, because the test was so old, much against my better judgement, we bought a new pack. Once again the liquid went up and the C line appeared. Only difference was in reading the instructions that came with this pack (we’d lost the other set), it appears that means you haven’t got Covid.
Retirement health summary
How we laughed. If we can screw up this simple test it makes me wonder how many of my other symptoms are imaginary. I know this sounds unlikely but it is at least some kind of explanation as to why I’ve got all these problems. I’ve simply imagined them. Job done.