Have you missed me? Dear diary, I've been so in-between... Okay I borrowed that line - structurally - from the Moody Blues... But it has been a more interesting couple of weeks. No gates attacking me. They say of course that the devil has a go at you from the organist's stool. Not so these days. It's technology that will break you down, or grind you to an emotional pulp. Let me tell you how that worked this week....
It's all about my left leg. Funny thing really, because the radiographer asked me today whether I had had problems with it before. No, I say - only the right leg. Three times. She prods at my veins on the left appendage and explores further the history of the right one. "O just a few breaks" I say. "And a knee that need a scope and what have you." I avoid the silly things I did that got me plastered three times (my leg in a cast, I hasten to clarify).
So the left leg also needs surgery to get rid of a BCC. Whether there is one or not is the other debate at the doctor's rooms today. The mole man didn't write a letter to the doc to tell him what the biopsy found. Of course the terms are confusing. "Have you had your autopsy yet?" is probably the wrong question. Reminds me of the old lady years back who rejoiced one Sunday that her grandchild had been born despite complications on account of the biblical cord being around the poor child's neck. The congregation also rejoiced in this victory...
Anyway once the doctor got the letter he agreed it was a BCC. No this is not an email client's secret carbon copy option, but a common form of skin cancer. Which was to be removed. Until the hospital postponed that by a week. Which is okay really when you consider the rest of the left leg. Of course I'm left wondering whether I imagined the whole thing. But I am glad the doctor believes me now.
Sorry diary. you're probably confused. Me too. Back to the ultrasound lady today. The left leg, BCC issues aside, is being investigated for DVTs. Love the code. I hasten to add none was found. The swelling of the ankle and leg remains an inconvenience and a literal pain. But that's where I started. About the technology. Come with me to Sunday morning...
This left leg has been a problem for ages. The left always is… Just have a listen to the average labour party leader… So, I decide I will do the Jesus thing. I’m going to sit and preach. Teach. Speak. Tell stories… Having explored a literal interpretation of the idea – lake, boat, speak…. Mountain, crowds, speak… I go for a stool up front with the lectern removed. Yes, that means throw away the notes. They call it “The Rev unplugged”. So, off I go.
The plan was to rest the left leg. But who, dear diary, sticks his diabolical proddy fork into the mix? The demon of technology! Again. When I sit, the radio microphone shrieks. When I stand – all is well. So that was that. No Jesus’ teaching methodology. No romantic notion of boats and mountainsides. Just me wandering around telling the story of the day. Which is about the anxieties of the age. Oh read it, do. On paper anyway. The stories I told kept us going past the hour. And that left leg just had to deal with it. Swell, the Americans might say. Swell it did.
I won’t bore you with the speaker that distorted. And how I switched it off. It’s on the left of the church too. And what is was like to play the piano with the radio mike transmitter balanced on the left – probably on three very lonely keys which I expertly avoided. Why? Because when it was in my jacket pocket it SCREAMED AT ME. Say no more...
So now the new week of new medication begins. I’m reading that peripheral edema can be caused by one of the other medications I take. Don’t go there today, I tell myself. Take the spill pill. Limit sodium intake. I will resist munching on sodium biscuits for a while then. And then we will run some more tests – in the auditorium I mean. We will sort out the shrieking microphone. On Friday. Sunday of course – anything is possible…
It's all about my left leg. Funny thing really, because the radiographer asked me today whether I had had problems with it before. No, I say - only the right leg. Three times. She prods at my veins on the left appendage and explores further the history of the right one. "O just a few breaks" I say. "And a knee that need a scope and what have you." I avoid the silly things I did that got me plastered three times (my leg in a cast, I hasten to clarify).
So the left leg also needs surgery to get rid of a BCC. Whether there is one or not is the other debate at the doctor's rooms today. The mole man didn't write a letter to the doc to tell him what the biopsy found. Of course the terms are confusing. "Have you had your autopsy yet?" is probably the wrong question. Reminds me of the old lady years back who rejoiced one Sunday that her grandchild had been born despite complications on account of the biblical cord being around the poor child's neck. The congregation also rejoiced in this victory...
Anyway once the doctor got the letter he agreed it was a BCC. No this is not an email client's secret carbon copy option, but a common form of skin cancer. Which was to be removed. Until the hospital postponed that by a week. Which is okay really when you consider the rest of the left leg. Of course I'm left wondering whether I imagined the whole thing. But I am glad the doctor believes me now.
Sorry diary. you're probably confused. Me too. Back to the ultrasound lady today. The left leg, BCC issues aside, is being investigated for DVTs. Love the code. I hasten to add none was found. The swelling of the ankle and leg remains an inconvenience and a literal pain. But that's where I started. About the technology. Come with me to Sunday morning...
This left leg has been a problem for ages. The left always is… Just have a listen to the average labour party leader… So, I decide I will do the Jesus thing. I’m going to sit and preach. Teach. Speak. Tell stories… Having explored a literal interpretation of the idea – lake, boat, speak…. Mountain, crowds, speak… I go for a stool up front with the lectern removed. Yes, that means throw away the notes. They call it “The Rev unplugged”. So, off I go.
The plan was to rest the left leg. But who, dear diary, sticks his diabolical proddy fork into the mix? The demon of technology! Again. When I sit, the radio microphone shrieks. When I stand – all is well. So that was that. No Jesus’ teaching methodology. No romantic notion of boats and mountainsides. Just me wandering around telling the story of the day. Which is about the anxieties of the age. Oh read it, do. On paper anyway. The stories I told kept us going past the hour. And that left leg just had to deal with it. Swell, the Americans might say. Swell it did.
I won’t bore you with the speaker that distorted. And how I switched it off. It’s on the left of the church too. And what is was like to play the piano with the radio mike transmitter balanced on the left – probably on three very lonely keys which I expertly avoided. Why? Because when it was in my jacket pocket it SCREAMED AT ME. Say no more...
So now the new week of new medication begins. I’m reading that peripheral edema can be caused by one of the other medications I take. Don’t go there today, I tell myself. Take the spill pill. Limit sodium intake. I will resist munching on sodium biscuits for a while then. And then we will run some more tests – in the auditorium I mean. We will sort out the shrieking microphone. On Friday. Sunday of course – anything is possible…
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