Over the last few days, progress has been minimal, as I said last post. The district nurse came today and after she'd finished telling me off for not ringing them when I'd been concerned, she said the wound was re opening along previously healed bits. The culprit was probably that iffy bit where the kin is kinda pleated, like a teeny flap overlapping. His side is swollen and tender and she rang to ask for the doctor to come and visit. She got the lovely student nurse to push some 'aquafibre' into the open but and cover with another of the comedy sized plasters.
He came over a bit queer then, full on sweating. He had to sit down. Jo, the nurse was lovely. She told him off for being brace. She could tell he's not had the news he wanted. And that he was gutted.
The doctor came an hour later.
Efficient but rude I thought.
She enquired as to the problem. She took his temperature. Raised. No shit Sherlock !
She ripped back the plaster - no warning!
Said 'ahhh yes, there's pus weeping' let's get some antibiotics for that.
You see, she went on, it's slow to heal because of the, and I'm not saying this to be rude, thick layer of fat that's not got a good blood supply.
Don't mince your words madam!!!
His side was SWOLLEN and he's not got that much fat there. Cheeky cow.
Anyway she prescribed flucoxicillan and some codeine to try as the tramadol is making him itch.
He was devastated as he'd built up this day to getting in the shower. Instead, he got sorted and we took a slow stroll in the Autumn sunshine to the chemist for his pills. Which by the way, is a right ball ache. To be taken on an empty stomach. An hour before food or two after. That's ok. But he's been non stop bloody eating machine!
So a set back. We"ll have to just keep on keeping on. Can't wait for this to be over.