Ticking away ... Day 884 ~ Charles Wildhouse ?

I'd not been to hospital for three weeks or so ... so another visit was on the cards today. I was off to Derby for a follow-up appointment ... not about the life limiting illness this time but the one that causes me so much inconvenience ~ my mallet finger.

Having a bath/shower ~ what a pain. OK I can wear a plastic bag on my left hand taped to my wrist with selotape but unless I leave my hand higher than my elbow then some water will get onto the plaster on my hand. I can cover quite a lot of ground with the soap in my right hand but when it comes to washing your right arm ... or your right armpit ... well, you try it sometime. I have to get help ... fortunately help is available and there is something so deliciously decadent about someone washing you.

Of course washing the pots is right out.

So, there we were in the Pulvertaft Hand Centre within the Royal Derby Hospital [to give it its correct title] just before 10.30am when my appointment was due. Various therapists and physios came in and called out a name as that name left the waiting area for attention.

Then a young woman came in with a clipboard. She was over my left shoulder and I heard her say quite softly "Charles Wildhouse ..." ~ I only really heard the 'Charles' ... but she repeated the name a little louder this time "Charles Wild ..." [she looked at her clipboard hesitantly] "... house'.

I piped up 'Wildgoose' ? She looked at the clipboard ... "Oh, yes ..." so then we were off to the treatment room.  

I never got round to asking her why she didn't come out with it and say "Wildgoose ...".

As usual I have gone on too long [as is the norm]. Longish story short[ish] ... I got a new split. My washerwoman Beloved had to put the plaster on too, in front of the professional to see how she was doing ... she nearly got full marks which pleased you know who ...

I got to choose a new colour for the splint ... even more shocking than the red one ...

How's the finger doing ? OK apparently ... well as far as they can tell. It can't be bent for another four weeks but it looks ok.  

This isn't the first time that my surname has been so badly treated. I have been called 'Wildgorse', 'Wildgrove', 'Goose' and many more. Worst of all is those damned computer messages that are left on my phone. I am always referred to as 'Charles Wiljus' by them.   

Ticking away ... Day 867 ~ the low side of normal ...

Six visits to hospitals and a medical centre in eight days ... and now I've got a bit of a break, not literally thankfully.

I'm not going to go into details as regards the visits you will be pleased to hear but I can show you a photograph of my mallet finger in its splint made especially for me by one of the therapists at the Pulvertaft Hand Centre within the Royal Derby Hospital ...

Except when I wash my finger every four or five days the splint has got to stay on for eight weeks and then for four weeks during the night after that. If I bend the end joint of my finger once in that time then we're back to square one. Oh boy.

The most important visit though was probably the last one on Wednesday [Day 864] when the doctor at the Chesterfield Royal Hospital told me everything seemed to be going ok in the circumstances and, wonder of wonders, my potassium level is up to the low side of normal [namely 3.5]. What have I been doing that resulted in this revelation ? My theory is that it's the red wine ... I need more red wine.

After the good news Jamie and I adjourned to the Cafe@theRoyal and had a bacon bap each ... well Jamie had two.

We walked to the car and a photograph was taken. The old boy's hair seems to be getting whiter ...

I am in good spirits and enjoying life.