fasciectomy – derrickjknight

In The Verges

Today was sunny and warmer. I made my way this morning down to Roger’s footpath and back. This was more of a hobble than a ramble, but the swelling on the knee has subsided and I have left off the Ibuprofen.

To be found in the verges of Downton Lane are:

Crocuses Celandines

Primroses

Primulas

More celandines

Daffodils

Grape Hyacinths

and drink cans, like this one from Budweiser which will soon be nestling in ladies’ bedstraw.

We have blue celandines in the garden, where

Jackie has continued work on the new bed,

and we have erected a plastic chain to enhance the barrier at the end of the drive. This seems at least to have deterred a plumber’s van.

When the tits give them a chance, chaffinches are now visiting the bird feeders.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to Lymington Hospital for my pre-assessment to see whether I am fit for surgery for the fasciectomy. After completion of a questionnaire, checking of blood pressure and pulse rate; measuring height and weight and calculating BMI; taking swabs from nostrils and groin to check for MRSA; applying an ECG; taking blood tests; and anything else I might have forgotten, it seems that I am. The operation should take place some time in April.

Elizabeth came for a visit and, later, we drove off to Lymington’s Lal Quilla in our separate cars, and enjoyed the usual excellent meal and friendly service, including a chat with the chef who really loves his work. My meal was king prawn naga and special fried rice. We all had onion bhajis for starters and drank Kingfisher.

Dupuytren’s Contracture

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.