Woke up in London this morning with the gland under my right ear very inflamed and painful. It hurt to swallow even coffee. If I had any teeth that would have been the cause but I haven't so perhaps I cut myself shaving or ruptured something in a sneezing fit. I hoped earnestly that the cause was a bacterial infection by a non-resistant strain and the docs would give me a huge broadrange antibiotic injection or failing that a box of powerful quick acting pills.
We were coming back here today anyway and herself made me ring the doctor in one of our small towns. It hurt a lot even to swallow saliva which one does surprisingly often without usually noticing. The answering machine said the practice was shut for training and said in emergency press 1 for treatment. I did. It was closed. Tried again an hour later and got a person, NHS direct perhaps, or perhaps not. The person said my local practice was opening again at 5.30 and did I want an appointment then because there was one? I did. All fixed they said.
We got here early and unloaded the motor. Then I waited in agonized impatience for 5.10 to arise so that I could be well on time in case the quacks were kicking their heels. Got there at last, only two cars in the park, hooray! they would be ready for me.
But they weren't there. The public-interface women blushed a bit and said they had no knowledge of any appointment. They were closed for training. I griped a bit but said I knew it wasn't their fault - it really wasn't. I made an appointment for 9.20 tomorrow morning, far too early for me so you know I was really suffering.
Herself made me try the practice in the other small town but I knew what it would say and it said it. The public-interface women were completely interchangeable with the ones in my registered practice, poor darlings.
Meanwhile though herself had got some paracetamol. On top of the aspirin I took leaving London, washed down with two very large vodka and oranges, it sort of worked, well enough for me to be able to post this. Couldn't have done it two hours ago.
Ah yes, Rocky. Rocky is a Trinidadian friend of mine, a carnival person, long-time leader of an itinerant dance troupe, a really cool old hooligan. Some of you may recall him from a TV ad for some sort of financial service: a shaven headed old cat with lots of gold necklaces and bracelets, chunky gold rings on all fingers and ornate gold teeth, some with jewels as well. He walks past a barber shop full of black guys and everyone howls with laughter.
Well, Rocky is rocky, rockier than me. Of course he's ten years older and has undoubtedly had a harder life. He was in hospital for a heart bypass I think and there had a stroke. I was hoping to get him down here for my 75th in the summer but barring miracles it won't happen. But I am going to miss Rocky among all the other people you miss by my age. We aren't the same by a long chalk but we understand one another somehow.
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Hope you sorted out soon A.C. Nothing worse than severe pain I have been there.
I had a bit of a scare last week pain in the private region.Thinking I ruptured myself again had a operation four years ago.Doctor a she, had a good check and all is ok.Did some cycling few weeks ago problaby caused my problems.
Some people you meet in your live are always there bless Rocky.
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Harrumph. This should make Lygonos snigger.
By the time I got to the doctor this morning (on time) I was feeling a great deal better and the symptoms had sort of mutated into something more like a slightly sore throat. The doctor, large, African and personable, said my parotid gland had become inflamed owing almost certainly to a blocked saliva duct. That, he said, might well have been caused by smoking. Had the gland been seriously infected it would most likely have been viral, he added, making antibiotic useless of course. He recommended chewing gum and more attention to oral hygiene. And not smoking of course. Anyway once you have had this condition it is likely to recur, he said not very sternly.
I ought to feel ashamed of being so wimpish about the symptoms and so wrong about their cause. But I don't, or not very much. It's great feeling better.
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Clicked as thread tiltle indicated you might have been to a private Stones gig.
Glad it was a small blip in the end... saves Pat wheeling you down the field in her barrow to a plot near the moggy.
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Lud would have gone in the manner he deserves.....I would have borrowed the landau from the village fete committee:)
Pat
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>> This should make Lygonos snigger
Not at all: assuming you don't hang around at the quacks, we actually like seeing guys who rarely attend because there's a much higher chance they are actually unwell.
And even if they are not, these infrequent attender guys usually show up because they think they are more unwell than they acutally are so they're often quite grateful to be reassured they don't have head/neck/thumb/willy cancer.
On the other hand, if you're down every month my opening gambit after hearing your woes would likely be "and what painkillers have you taken for it?"... when, inevitably, the reply comes "Well I didn't take anything doctor in case it made it go away and you wouldn't know what it was".. that's when I snigger and reach for the golf club under the desk.
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I like to think I don't hang about faffing at the doctor's Lygonos. I usually go when I think I may need a few Sumatriptan shots if I am going to be away from home where I have oxygen. Untreated cluster headaches are hardly even for one's worst enemy, and one's anxiety level when threatened with that - even a low percentage threat level - knows almost no bounds.
I hate having my gut examined so tend to put that off. No one's perfect.
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>>No one's perfect.
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My wife says I am... err
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"On the other hand, if you're down every month my opening gambit after hearing your woes would likely be "and what painkillers have you taken for it?"... when, inevitably, the reply comes "Well I didn't take anything doctor in case it made it go away and you wouldn't know what it was".. that's when I snigger and reach for the golf club under the desk. "
Much the same as when we rock up in our big yellow taxi for something that would never pass the test of the big letters 'Emergency Ambulance' on the side of said big yellow taxi.
"Have you rung your GP?"
"Nah, I've got no credit on my phone, innit?"
Head. Wall. You know the rest.
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>> Doctor a she, had a good check and all is ok.Did some cycling few weeks ago problaby caused my problems.
Yes Dutchman, a pain in the gonads is a worrying thing. I had one some years ago and the doctor then, also a woman oddly enough, attributed it to a 'grumbling appendix'.
Glad you are OK. Try not to jump on yr bike straight out of the upstairs window in future. We old guys need to draw in our horns a bit.
:o}
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>>We old guys need to draw in our horns a bit.
I fear advancing years. More or less everything I like doing requires a certain level of physical capability.
Not likely to be a worry though given the abuse I've given this old bag of bones over the years. I expect it will scrap itself before it becomes a problem !
:-)
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"I fear advancing years. More or less everything I like doing requires a certain level of physical capability."
Try a gentle exercise routine of yoga and strength exercises.. Do it regularly.
I have followed the yoga side for the past 13 years and it makes the odd aches and pains disappear quite quickly and improves flexibility...
A proper yoga teacher is require for the first 10 years or so until you adapt. Of course, if you are younger, you will adapt more quickly...
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Feeling rocky - Dutchie
