Good days and Bad days

Good days, Bad days.

Well, that's life, innit?!

You win some, you lose some.

And other appropriate cliches.

 

Happily at the moment the Good days are much more frequent than the Bad ones and included another outing to the Olympics to watch athletics on Wednesday. No finals or medals, but a great atmosphere and lots of cheering and flag-waving nonetheless.

But Tuesday this week was a Bad day, principally because my NG tube, through which I take all my food and medicine, went on strike late on Monday evening and refused to allow anything to pass up or down it. And of course it was at too late an hour for anyone to come and sort it out for me. I tried pulling, I tried pushing (through a syringe, that is). I tried cold water, warm water and fizzy water. All to no avail. So I had to take my evening medication orally (which at least proved that I could manage it if absolutely necessary) and forgo my usual overnight feed entirely.

 

Hence on Tuesday morning I felt even more feak and weeble than usual, and no doubt prompted by the unexpected change in my feeding routine, Montezuma took his Revenge suddenly and unpleasantly. I summoned the strength to make a few calls to various health professionals for assistance, but happily on Tuesday afternoon, just as I was bracing myself for a visit to A&E at St Thomas's to have the tube replaced (not a particularly enjoyable experience) the current tube declared itself open for business again. So at least the story had a happy ending. I felt much better on Wednesday and Montezuma has withdrawn his attentions again now, so my bowels appear to be back to normal too, thankfully.

 

And just to prove that Life does have a sense of humour, you might like to note the Irony in the name of the unfortunate competitor in the screenshot below who failed to finish her hurdles race in the Olympics. With thanks to my nephew Gulliver for spotting it.