Up The Farway Tree

The CF nurse just phoned to remind me I'm due to have my port flushed on Friday. This is fantastic news. It means I have been off antibiotics for nearly 4 weeks! Over the past few months I have barely been getting past 2 weeks before needing at least oral antibiotics, so I'm feeling strangely smug. I am also wearing a strangely smug expression. Its verging on scary though, so I am now reverting to a more comfortable and relaxed expression. Worryingly this is slightly scowl like. I have bad habit of frowning inadvertently and therefore looking like I strongly disapprove of what's being said, when its more likely I am in fact not even listening ;-)

The nurse also asked how I was getting on with the NG feeds, and had I made any decisions about removing the peg tube yet. The short answer to the last question is "no". I just can't decide what to do. I feel very much trapped in a no win situation at the moment. I have managed fairly well with the NG feeding, however I remain extremely anxious about the prospect of removing the peg tube. Its like my safety net. I can manage to get the NG tube down at the moment, when I'm well...but what if I was feeling sick? (which is often); what if I have a cold with runny nose and tickly throat?; what if I need oxygen and therefore have tubes jostling for position on my face; what if I need to do extra bolus feeds during the day?; what if I have a sinus infection (which again, is often)? Even writing that list is making me hold one hand over my peg tube in case a passing mad man steals it. Yet on the flipside, the damn thing is still sore. Its reached a new plateau of pain; not quite as sore as before, but still sore enough to make me swear (under my breath of course, and only posh swear words like "drat") at least once a day. On balance though, Seb makes me swear (and pray at the same time), more than once a day and I'm not having him removed. Yet.

Speaking of the fluffy creature himself, I will now update on the eye drop fiasco. I have now discarded all attempts at both the 'softly softly' and the 'stealth' approach. Sadly I had to also abandon the giant dog treat outfit. The hire shop only had a 'bonio bone' outfit. Seb doesn't like bonio bones. I think they are too dry and tasteless. And they are clearly not cheese (which he would kiss a cat on the lips for). Anyway, I have now progressed to hard line tactics. Namely getting him into a headlock while Andrew administers the drops. To be fair I am taking the most dangerous position, especially since he is so wriggly that I had to mash his head against my head for extra leverage. Quite obviously I was taking the risk of having my nose bitten off, but instead I found my eyeball being nearly licked out of its socket. Thankfully while Seb was engaged in this endearing, yet 'wrong on many levels' activity, Andrew got a couple of drops on target. I am due back at the vet tomorrow for a follow up, so we are all hoping for the all clear and no more drops outcome. An all clear that costs another £30 no doubt.

Seb, it's time for your eye drops. Where are you?