Dupuytren’s contracture

The Writing On The Wall

Yesterday, I finished reading ‘Lymington and Pennington, Then & Now’ by Brian J. Down. This is a local history book given to me by Mother Santa for Christmas. Full of fascinating research and information about local residents and institutions, I can forgive the fact that, in common with most such works, it is not great literature.

Lymington history001

It is the front cover that provided, for me, the most intrigue.

My post The Disembarkation from February 24th, 2016, contains this photograph of

New Look. Research tells me that the worn out writing on the wall covers the original advertisement for Rand & Son, the previous owners of the shop, which would have read

‘RAND.
(& S)ON
(GEN)ERAL
(DRA)PERY
(WARE)HOUSE
(?)NERY
(?)S’. (taken from http://www.ipswich-lettering.co.uk/lymington.html)

The word underneath WAREHOUSE, in the cover photograph, which must have been taken in the first years of the 20th century, could perhaps have been MILLINERY.

Mum, Elizabeth and Jacqueline visited today for lunch and dinner. During the conversations, the older of my sisters described a couple of conditions on the left hand of our cousin, Jane, in America. This reminded me of my Dupuytren’s Contracture, so we sent a link across the pond.

Early this evening we dined on Jackie’s perfectly cooked roast lamb, roast potatoes, parsnips and sweet potatoes; cauliflower, Brussels sprouts and carrots. Jacqueline, Elizabeth, and I drank Roc de Lussac Sainte-Emilion 2014, and Jackie and Ian a Charles Renoir Chablis 2014, both brought by Elizabeth. We finished up with Jacqueline’s Christmas cake. A little later we drank a toast with the Fortnum & Mason champagne from Luci’s Christmas hamper. My mother and sisters returned home at 9 p.m.

On a bright, crisp, morning I set off for the woodland walk. No sooner had I entered the brassica field than the sky rapidly darkened and a biting hailstorm hit. In order to protect my face I turned my back on it and stood, like the scarecrow Worzel Gummidge, on the soggy footpath. I felt as if I had been transported to the Dragstrip Ear Piercing Studio in Bitterne, and fled for shelter in the defunct phone box. The missing window rendered this less than totally effective. My ears, incidentally, are not as pretty as the one in the picture before it became bejewelled.

When the storm abated I walked back home.

Jackie’s Modus was repaired by Downton Service Station today in time for her to drive me to Lymington Hospital to keep an appointment with a consultant about my Dupuytren’s contracture. The car’s problem was an ignition coil and spark plug that needed replacing. My repair will take a little longer. The hand needs surgery in the form of a fasciectomy which, according to the website of Mr. Simon Richards who examined it, is:

‘Fasciectomy – Correction is obtained by removal of the fascia to the affected finger. The wound is stitched up in a zig-zag manner, but occasionally an area is left open to heal by itself (open-palm technique). This is the most common surgical option.’

Waiting time for the operation is 2/3 months.

We dined this evening on Jackie’s luscious lamb jafrezi (recipe); egg fried rice that any self-respecting restaurateur would be proud to place on the menu as special fried rice; onion bajis and samosas. We both drank Kingfisher.

A Remarkable Year For Flora

Early this morning we kept a GP appointment in Milford on Sea. I was given a referral for my Dupuytren’s contracture. This photograph from the internet best shows the stage mine has reached. I know it looks unseemly, but it is awkward rather than painful. I cannot straighten the finger.
Afterwards, on this exceedingly mild day I took a stroll round the garden. Apart from the cyclamens, pansies and other flowers normally blooming at this time, we have mahonias, hellebores, roses, and bidens.
More camellias are budding, and even nasturtiums have survived. This really has been a remarkable year for flora.

A pig with a ring through its nose winked and smiled out of one of the multicoloured stumps on the back drive.
Paul and Margery came for a visit at midday and brought back unsold framed photographs from the Ruby exhibition. Our friend is pleased to have become a dab hand at the difficult task of leaving our front drive and emerging into Christchurch Road.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious lamb jafrezi (recipe) and savoury rice with egg custard to follow. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I consumed a little more of the cabernet sauvignon.

A Statuesque Beauty

Jackie dropped me at Silver Street again this morning. This time I walked along this road, which, like many local ones has no pavement. I the turned right into Woodcock Lane and crossed Everton Road into Hordle Lane and, eventually, home.
Peterson’s Folly is visible from our front bedroom windows, but there was a much clearer view from Silver Street, where moon daises were still blooming.
The ditch in Woodcock Lane, that is liable to flooding, is beginning to fill up.
A creature appears to have taken up residence in a dead tree stump.
Ponies, some wearing jackets, could be seen through a hedge. Their owner, a young woman, noticing me poking my lens through the shrubbery, politely enquired as to whether I might be recceing the joint with the intention of returning to steal the ‘rugs’, which I took to mean the jackets. Apparently this is a common occurrence. We had a long, enjoyable conversation in which she told me that the horses were all foresters, and became very inquisitive and advanced on watchers, thus alerting her to their presence. She pointed out the unclad grey, which she thought the most beautiful.
Further along, sheep in a field were colourfully stained, perhaps decorated for Christmas.
A public footpath on Hordle Lane, where I met another inquisitive pony, has been blocked with barbed wire. Perhaps the doggie poo bag had been tossed beside it to indicate what a rambler thought of this.
This afternoon we visited New Milton for some banking and postage stamps. After this we went on to Milford on Sea to make an appointment at the GP’s. On my left hand I have a Dupuytren’s contracture which has been progressing nicely for about five years, and is now becoming a little awkward, so I need a referral to a surgeon. Patient.co.uk has this to say about it:

‘Dupuytren’s contracture causes thickening of tissues in the palm. If it progresses, one or more fingers bend (contract) into the palm and you cannot straighten the finger. The cause is not known. In many cases it remains mild and does not require treatment. If the condition becomes more severe or the function of the hand becomes affected then a specialist may recommend treatment.’

Jackie’s sister Helen has discovered an early postcard photograph of their mother and her friend, Sheila. My lady volunteered my services for producing a set of prints for Sheila’s daughter Margaret and various family members. I scanned the original and, after a considerable

amount of retouching, made six copies. This photograph was probably taken around 1939/40 when Veronica Rivett, my delightful late mother-in-law, the statuesque beauty to the viewer’s left, would have been about eighteen.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s scrumptious cottage pie; roast parsnips; crisp carrots, cauliflower, and brussels sprouts; followed by bread and butter pudding and custard for me, evap for her. She imbibed Black Tower B rose, whilst I did the same with Longhorn Valley cabernet sauvignin 2012.