No pressure then?

Yay! The nurse phoned about around four and said she'd be about 10 mins. I decided if I got my jeans and skates on I could post a letter at the end of the terrace and pick her up on the way back. It was only about five mins after she called that I was heading up the road and I passed a car that had just arrived further up the street. When I got back and had been waiting on my doorstep for a few more minutes I realised that the woman waiting patiently in this car outside another house was probably waiting for me and popped up to ask her. Oh I'm sorry she said...it is number 4 pointing at the building in case I was confused about where I lived I guess. I'm not, I live at flat 4, number something else entirely.

Well we got in and did the biz and then she asked me something very strange. She said she had to ask everybody it was her job and asked me how my bottom was! I said do you mean how are my bowels as I know nurses here for the first time sometimes think I might need to discuss their function but am too shy/forgetful/incompetent to broach the subject myself. She said no, was it sore? I won't tell you the kind of things that went through my mind at that point but I couldn't see what relevance any of them might have to a community nursing team...or me for that matter...so I had to make a few more encouraging enquiries and discovered she meant did I have pressure sores. Pressure sores? Pressure sores? Chance would be a fine blooming thing! What kind of fragrantly nurtured life does she think I'm living here for goodness sake? (I know they are horrid by the way and I don't mean to be flip but if I was sedentary enough to get them I'd die of a lot of other things before they caused me much trouble I can tell you!)

I offered to show her my (smooth as a baby's) bottom and she said no, she'd take my word for it if I was sure but I ought to have a risk assessment. The implication seemed to be if you're poorly enough to have us come round to visit you probably ought to be sitting still and getting them. Pat, my dear, you've picked a bad day for an ex nurse to have forgotten what 'lea' is (yes Lynn, we talked about it on Cancerchat months ago), you need to say something very perceptive and wise as soon as possible to save the reputation of your sisterhood's brain power!

Anyway, I'm sure I've made Carol grateful today, she was saying I should feel free to have a rant sometimes and most of the time I know I am and don't really feel the need...I just have a chuckle instead. I'm grateful I amuse myself at least with my bitchy wit and think maybe I should apply for that job myself Lynn! I'm grateful I don't have bed sores and that I didn't have to prove it! I'm grateful for my fidget arse ways that reduce my risk even when I only get up and do things in instalments. I'm grateful I had enough ink in the printer to get the letters I'd written on paper and in the post as that machine can be very truculant about having the cartridges changed. I'm grateful I've decided exactly what I'd like for my tea (had brunch earlier so didn't need lea!) and have the exactly the ingredients to make it - one of which is cold cooked potatoes so not something you have to hand every day. And I give thanks on your behalf dear readers that I'm going to stop wittering on now and let you lot get on with your lives!