Poor Bendycat, 17 is old for a cat, and this cold weather is hurting her. I know because she behaves in exactly the same way I do when in pain, gimping from room to room of the flat emitting pitiful yowls as she goes. At least her medication works well, so she'll be fine in a day or so and I'll still be contemplating the tuna/metacam cocktail myself.
I need to stop eating before I start on the furniture.
I suspect the reason I forgot to blog about Pain Clinic is that it wasn't especially interesting after all that fuss. I arrived and had just enough time to pop to the loo before I was called through-it must be the most on time hospital clinic of any. Ever. There wasn't even enough time to take BogOff photos.
I was a bit nervous when Dr Pain started to ask questions about how the Ehlers Danlos Syndrome was diagnosed, as that's often a precursor to a doctor taking it upon themselves to insist I'm not that flexible. Fair point if you're comparing me to an actual rubber band, but less so if compared to a functioning human being. However, Dr Pain was just curious and further endeared himself to me by insisting none of the pain clinic staff have any idea what it really feels like to live with chronic pain. The plan to continue slowly reducing the dosage of Oxycontin by 10mg every two to three weeks was confirmed and another appointment made for three months time, by which I'll hopefully be Oxycontin free. Like I say, hopefully.
Somewhat stupidly I forgot to bring up the subject of overall pain management, but as it's not really going to be possible to get an accurate idea of what kind of pain control I'll need until the effects of the Oxycontin are out of the picture that's probably sensible. Unfortunately this is all coinciding with the most significant cannabis drought in months. Fortunately some nice, slightly dodgy, but compassionate
The most interesting part of the whole pain clinic experience happened when I was leaving. My local hospital has the pay at a machine located not next to the parking barrier system, which is an absolute nightmare for anyone of limited mobility. Being wise to this before I left the clinic I asked the nurse how far it was to the machine. She told me 'it was just there' which wasn't overly helpful, and insisted on confirming how 'just there' it was by taking me to the window to show me. A further 'but it's just there' was the initial response to my asking if someone could perhaps walk to get the ticket for me please. In the end I had to very specifically state that although, 'yes, it was just there, just there was further than I could walk' before the penny dropped and she agreed to ask the Healthcare Assistant (HCA) to get the ticket for me.
The HCA very kindly did go and purchase the ticket on my behalf, and I was particularly comforted by her statement that 'I really was in a bad way wasn't I' when she saw me walking. Most people just comment on my shiny red boots!