Up The Farway Tree

I've been home a week now and at last I'm starting to feel a bit stronger again. I must say however that I was a little disappointed when I first got home, because strangely enough the doctors did not manage to restore my lung function to 100%, nor indeed did they give me a new pair of puffers during my hospital stay. The result being that its still a big effort to climb the stairs, to get ready in the morning, to walk any great distance and, more importantly, to recover stolen pants and socks from Seb. That being said, I am definitely less breathless than I was 2 weeks ago, so I need to now concentrate on improving my general fitness, so I can manage such tasks with a little less huffing and puffing.

Limiting my general activity this week has been pain at my peg tube site. For those that don't know, a peg tube is a small tube going into the stomach, to allow me to do feeds overnight and therefore improve calorie intake. The only part that is visible is the small 'button' sitting on the surface of my skin, which for all intents and purposes looks like the valve on a beach ball. Luckily the primary aim of the feeds, is indeed to make me look more like a beach ball, so at least with the valve in situ, I'm half way there.

Otherwise health is on the up, and my chest is much better. Annoyingly I did have a tickly cough at the start of the week which was preventing me from getting to sleep. After the first hour of sitting propped upright, watching the clock ticking on, I thought to myself 'What would mum advise me to do?'. The answer was clear. Out came the honey jar and I indulged in a good couple of spoonfuls, in the hope of 'soothing my throat'. Another hour ticked by, and still I continued to cough, splutter and blow my nose loudly enough to make sure Andrew couldn't sleep either. I then thought to myself 'Well, what would my dad advise?'. Again the answer was clear. Out came the whisky bottle and I poured myself a large whisky liqueur. Two(or was it three?)glasses later, I felt much better. The cough had gone, sleep was imminent and all was well with the world. I may or may not have ricocheted of the wall on the way to the bathroom, however clearly this was due to poor lighting in the hallway.

Lastly, for completeness I feel I have to mention the latest window cleaner episode. I was going to promise that this is the last time I mention them, but that may prove to be an outright lie, so I wont. In fairness it must be about 4 weeks since they last visited my house, so frequency is not the issue. The issue this time, is that they decided it was appropriate to sit in my garden and eat their pieces and drink their tea(for any English readers, pieces=sandwiches), before they started on my windows. Now, I know they need to have tea break, but do they not have a van they can sit in? Why do they have to come into my garden and sit on my wall? Maybe they would like it if I put some patio furniture out the front, so they could at least relax in comfort. To make matters worse, my mum was visiting and on coming up the driveway saw these two strange boys ( I say boys, because they looked about 12)sitting on my wall. As mums have a tendency to do, she asked "Can I help you boys?". Now on paper, this sounds a fairly reasonable question to ask but if you know my mum and you understand the tone used, and the facial expression donned, then re-read as "I don't know who you two are, but you look very suspicious and indeed, very scruffy. In fact, if you don't provide me with a good reason for your being here in the next 10 seconds, I shall phone the police. Or if called for, I will not hesitate in making a citizens arrest" All that conveyed with a look? You haven't met my mum. So I think if there was ever a window cleaner conspiracy (or in fact surveillance on me, as someone helpfully suggested) I am sure she has just successfully ended it. Mums are useful for all sorts really.