Monday, October 18, 2010

A Final Bouquet

From the garden that is. Red and yellow fragrant roses, bright pink sedum , good old Michaelmas daisies and the new dahlias. I've decided I am not going to dig up the dahlias for winter, as it is the house is full of indoor chrysanthemums. I think they are meant to be in a green house but they have to make do with the sun room. They are growing apace and I remember being captivated by their photos. It'll be great if they actually come to fruition. I'm going to mulch the dahlias. I think that means covering then with all the ferny, woody detritus from our woodland bit.

Today we go to Taunton to meet the chemo doctor. That should be interesting. I see he's done a long cycle ride for charity so he sounds a good egg. I'm keeping an ear - over Radio 2 - for a bang on the window. Our new chiming door bell has given up the ghost so I have had to put a note on the door asking them to bang on a window. Very embarrassing. Even more embarassing our new freeser delivered on Friday wouldn't fit adjacent to the existing freezer. For a nano second I nearly lost it but one of the men suggested we put then alongside each other. That worked but the plug wouldn't reach and when I saw the mad tangle of wires in the shed I gave up and they are meant to come this morning to fix an extension , or what ever it needs.

It's all these stupid little things that go wrong that are the last straw. Otherwise things are going well and it's heartening to see the patient tucking in to the goodies he has always enjoyed. If I can just get him to stop crossing hie legs!

Wouldn't you know? Just had a phone call bringing our appoinment an hour earlier. Better get cracking.
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The Unbearable Banishment said...

When you said a "final" bouquet I drew all sorts of harsh conclusions. Do be careful.

Charles Bukowski has a great poem about how it's not war or disease that kill a man, it's the accumulation of small indignities that finally do him in.

Scarlet Blue said...

Yes... you can battle uphill against all sorts of atrocities, but the smallest things will have you in tears.
I think this is the true meaning of being stressed.

kenju said...

I hope the appointment goes well - and also the one with the new doc. Sorry about the doorbell and the freezer.

mapstew said...

What Scarls said!

Lovely flowers. :¬)


R. Sherman said...

It's nice to have beautiful flowers throughout the summer and this late into fall.

Good luck with the chemo doc.


Four Dinners said...

Chemo doc???? I know I've been away a while but????

You ok babe????

Pat said...

UB: sorry about that dear. Bukowski talks sense.

Scarlet: you're right. The tears didn't spill over but I scared the hell out of one of the deliverers and he fixed it this morning for me.

Judy: it's just the door bell now.

Mapstew: and doubly delightful when one has grown them:)

Randall: thanks honey. He was nice and got us giggling when he said 'Just see the Sister - she's on the way out.'

Four D: You must pay attention. Email on way.

Queenie said...

I remember, after my beloved grandma died, the one thing that reduced me to a sobbing heap on the floor was: finding I'd run out of tinned tomatoes. Yep, the small things. I hope the doctor was congenial and that your workmen, er, worked.

Eryl said...

One can cope with the big things, I reckon, as long as all the little things that support you actually do their job. I remember watching in amazement once when a friend, whose marriage was on the verge of collapse, spilt some salt. She threw the packet down, jumped on it and screamed: 'I hate salt, I hate salt...' over and over again, until I realised I would have to lead her away from the kitchen and sit her down.

Glad to hear the chemo doc was as good an egg as you hoped, and that the freezer is sorted.

The flowers are lovely. I could arrange the flowers left in our garden in a thimble.

angryparsnip said...

Much like Scarlet said it is the stress.
I can deal with the overwhelming problems but the internet dropping out in the middle of a post... (all my sent mail is now in cyber-land) I flip out.

Glad to know all is going well, patient, doctors, freezers and lovely flowers.
cheers, parsnip

Kim Ayres said...

Like UB, the title of the post had my heart in my mouth as a feared the worst.


Good to see the sun is still rising in the morning :)

Mike and Ann said...

Were you ever a nurse, Pat? Whenever I'm sitting (or lying) comfortably, and cross my knees or ankles, Ann (who was a nurse) says ""Don't cross your ankles, it's bad for.......". Whenever I've stayed in hospital there's always been a nurse who tells me not to cross my ankles (or whatever), because it's bad for ..." blood pressure or whatever. I've never understood it.
Can anyone enlighten me???
P.s. my sympathy to Y.T.L. Glad he's enjoying life again.
Warm regards to you both. Mike and Ann.

Pat said...

Queenie: poor you - I know how you felt. We both liked the doctor and the freezer is fixed.

Eryl: both your and Queenie's tales brought a tear of recognition to my eye.
A thimble arrangement would be stunning. Go to it:)

Parsnip: the internet probably causes as much stress as anything but somehow it seems much less important to me now as does my book. Priorities change.

Kim: I am sorry. How awful - I must be more careful.
Some magic power keeps me upbeat and I forget sometimes that not everybody feels it. Long may it continue.

Mike and Anne : yes I trained as a Sick Children's Nurse and am an RSCN. But that was a lifetime away and I boggle at the procedures in hospital these days.
Crossing legs and ankles interferes with the circulation. MTL had to wear full length long white silk stockings for a month or so after the op. I broke all my nails putting them on as they were impossible tight.
When the girls have coffee we are always telling each other to uncross our legs. And yet when one was younger the mantra was:
'When in danger cross your legs.'

Guyana-Gyal said...

I once read somewhere that when life is wearing you down, have something to look forward to each day - a book, a cup of tea, a letter.

For me, the kindness of bloggers and people who comment, their nuttiness, their humour and wisdom, have helped me more than anything else.

Stay well, Pat, take care of you too x x x

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

I must say Pat, I have no patience for all the little things that go wrong these days---and there seem to ALWAYS be things going wrong---If it isn't the Cable, it some Lights there are impossible to change because they are hard for me to reach now, etc., etc., etc.
How exasperating that the Doorbell isn't working...UGH!!! Life, and all it's little picky things....!

Happy to hear the patient is doing so well. And much good luck with the Chemo doctor, my dear...
((((((HUGS)))))) to you both!

lom said...

It was the washer packing up the day after my mom died that set me off. I had a rant at the repairman when he said the parts would be a week then burst into tears. We are a funny lot!

Pat said...

G: that has always been my maxim. There ALWAYS has to be something to look forward to.
Re Bloggers I don't know how I would presently cope without their unfailing support.

Naomi: yes I have to accentuate the positive good health signs and eliminate the pesky negatives and don't mess with Mr inbetween:)
MTL says he feels much stronger and all the signs are good.

LOM: it makes me wonder what men do under similar circumstances?

Zed said...

That's a lovely bouquet of flowers although the scissors don't quite match. I love the placing of them though :)

Errrr - I know I've been away - but chemo? Are you OK?

Pat said...

Zed: just tried to email you but the address doesn't seem to work.

Madame DeFarge said...

Lovely flowers, and I too was thrown by the title. Dearie me. Hope all goes well. Take care both.

Pat said...

Madam D: sorry - I will be more careful in future . I was going to call it 'Last rose of summer.'