24/11/19

Another one of those days. If it's true they come in threes, only one more to go...

Woke up feeling really good - a mood soon broken by the discovery that the heating was off. Phoned our plumber and he came round within the hour to have a look and do some diagnostics. We expect him back on Tuesday with a new valve. In the meantime things are working, but not at the level where we're exactly confident that they'll stay working. It's a hassle that we could both do without.
Eventually got out for a short walk and a coffee (and toasted teacake, half each) in Oaklands Park - both of us feeling the need of some fresh air and what now passes for exercise.
Roasted a chicken for dinner and while doing the washing up Sue gave herself a nasty little cut over a thumb knuckle with the big chef's knife that somehow slipped out of her grip. Of course she's on blood thinners at the moment, which doesn't help clotting. That kind of day.

My battle with extreme constipation continues. Laxido - so far - has been no improvement over Senna. A glycerine suppository came to the rescue again. I'll spare my readers from the details, and myself from remembering them. Bowel health is now becoming a bit of an obsession rather than something I've pretty  much taken for granted.

While doing the Pill Organisation Thing this afternoon I discovered that I haven't got any Allopurinol - that's the anti-gout drug to control uric acid that I'm supposed to take every day. Either I'm not meant to have it at this stage, or Springfield's pharmacy didn't include it in my last package, or I've somehow lost the entire box of them. I'll have to phone the cancer  nurses in the morning to sort that out.