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The week from hell

I'm back -- don't cry.

My apologies for the absence of this column for the past week or so, things have not been all wine and roses around here during that period.

Unfortunately the wife and I caught Covid again (the second time in just a few weeks) and this time it really hit hard. So hard in fact that I also developed a secondary bacterial infection of the pipes that saw me in A&E on Saturday morning just over a week ago.

As someone with Parkinson's, I'm used to getting the occasional urinary tract infection (UTI) but normally, as soon as I feel it coming on, I just drink gallons of water, cranberry juice etc and it fades away of its own accord.

Sadly, being somewhat preoccupied with the rather more severe symptoms of a bad CV19 infection, I failed to notice that the UTI had kind of gotten away on me so I ended up in pretty bad shape.

At the A&E they hooked me up to all sorts of plumbing and advised that my kidneys were now being affected. Great news eh?

Despite my rather foggy brain and uncooperative meat-suit, I did make some rather interesting observations of how our health system works -- and perhaps why we're seeing such a deterioration in the levels of service being delivered. This will be matter for another column but I do believe that changes have to be made. In essence, we have good people trying to cope in a badly flawed system and that's a recipe for disaster.

Fortunately I'm feeling much better now (although still not 100 percent) so it's business as normal for this column.

I have to say though, it was a hellish week.

When I was a young teenage lad, my parents warned me not to go with the "fast girls" because I'd catch VD and end up "pissing barbed wire" as a result. (Anyone else get this speech as their hormones were kicking in?).

Well I spent a week enduring all the effects of a bad infection (albeit not an STI) yet having had none of the pleasures my parents warned me of with those fast girls.

Having to go pee every 20 minutes or so was bad enough, but peeing blood and feeling as if your man-parts were being reamed with a hot poker made it a million times worse.

I'm generally a pretty stoic character but I have to say I've never felt more sorry for myself.

Not only was every muscle in my body aching from CV19 but this three times an hour torture on the toilet was very close to unbearable. It's the sort of thing you can handle for a day or two but by the time the fourth and fifth day rolled around I was going batshirt-crazy.

Although the antibiotics knocked out the infection within a couple of days, the damage that had already been done to the plumbing was so significant that I'm still experiencing "discomfort" when using the toilet. However, I'm extremely pleased that what passes no longer contains lumps of clotted blood and other indescribable detritus.

Oh... I hope you're not reading this over breakfast, sorry!

I started the week concerned filled with energy and enthusiasm. I finished it a tired and downcast mess.

Once again it has been rammed home to me very forcefully that, as we age, we just don't have the same resilience as when we were young. I'm very pleased that I started from a high-point of strength and energy because if I was a typical "frail" person in my eight decade on the planet, the outcome could have been a whole lot worse.

On a day-to-day basis I certainly don't feel my age but when things go wrong you quickly appreciate that your time on the planet is limited and it wouldn't really take that much to pop your clogs.

Never mind... Christmas is on the horizon, summer is definitely just around the corner and the sun is shining from time to time.

Carpe Diem folks!

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