Dirty Girl?

I have not had a shower or bath since Monday.

Sounds disgusting to some people I know.

I have been warned not to let my dressing get wet and that, if I take a shower,  I should try to stick my leg out of the cubicle .  That won't work as we don't have a cubicle but an overhead rain shower wet room type of arrangement so it would be pretty difficult to avoid getting my leg wet.

However,  you may be relieved (or not) to learn that I am still able to keep myself clean using the old fashioned methods from my childhood.  Perching on the edge of the bath with a washcloth and soap for an all over scrub and leaning over the large sink in the utility room with a plastic measuring jug and shampoo to wash my hair.

Brings back all those shivering cold 1960s bathtime memories.  At least nowadays I can have the heating on. 

All Done

For anyone not interested in other people's medical "stuff", you can look away now.

I had my second op on Monday afternoon.  They were running late so I didn't get into theatre until 5 pm.  

I had erroneously thought that the wide margin excision was going to be on the surface around the edge of the original melanoma site but the surgeon explained that he needed to cut away tissue beneath it, in case any abnormal cells had infiltrated to a deeper level.  At least no skin graft would be required. 

This time around I found the procedure a little more uncomfortable.  There was much zapping and sizzling with the cauterization tool and firm pressing down with thick swabs so I presume there was some blood letting going on.  I could feel the none too gentle tugging  of the surface skin being yanked closed and stitched and then there was a blast from a spray can before the dressing and bandage was applied.

The tissue removed is being sent to the lab in Liverpool for testing.  The surgeon is confident it will be clear.  If they do find anything though  I don't think I want to have any more surgery.  As it is supposedly a non aggressive form of melanoma I may just take my chances and carry on.

I have been in quite a bit more pain this time around but that's probably because it was a little more invasive.  

My walking pole has come in handy to help me wobble around the house but I haven't been able to get up and down the stairs.  I actually quite like sleeping on the sofa beneath the big stained glass window.  The moonlight shining through it is quite magical and, as it faces east,  the rising sun also catches the colours in the glass.

P has been very good  fetching and carrying for me.  He stocked up on convenient ready-meals  from the supermarket for our supper these past two evenings but I think I am ready to try to prepare some "real" food now!  

Once I have the stitches removed and the 4 to 6 week recovery period is over I shall look forward to getting out and about again.  It will be spring by then.   Lovely.



Not Such A Good Idea?

When we moved into our new home I was pleased to see there is a quite a large storage cupboard downstairs, fitted out with lots of shelves, hooks and a hanging rail.  Ideal for a shoe and coat "room".

Our winter coats and shoes are now stored here, ready to just pop on before we go outside without taking up space in the entrance hall or having to go upstairs for them.

P stores all his running and fell shoes on the shelves, which is ideal for him as he can choose which ones to wear and put them on just before he leaves the house.  One downside to this I noticed today.   After some particularly wet and mucky runs, the inner soles of his fell shoes get wet and become extremely smelly.  I noticed this odiferous quality as soon as I opened the door just now.  

Like his father before him, P has a very poor sense of smell and just doesn't notice it at all but it nearly blew my head off when I opened the door.

I liberally applied half a bottle of Febreze spray, squirting it into the inside of every shoe.  Hopefully that should sort out the problem, at least for now.

Must put more Febreze on my shopping list.

A Laxey Loop

Today (Thursday) was one of those beautifully crisp, dry and sunny winter days with hardly a breath of wind.  My walking partner suggested we take advantage of the weather and have a good morning's walk and lunch out before my enforced period of rest starts next Monday.

I drove us to Laxey, a few miles south down the coast, and we parked at Ham and Egg Terrace, opposite the tram station.  The terrace was given that nickname back when the residents of the terrace of little cottages used to sell food and beverages from their front rooms.

We walked uphill, past the Great Laxey Wheel and the salmon farm to the tiny village of Agneash.  We could see across the valley to the Snaefell Mountain Railway track  leading up to the mountain road and on up the Peak at Snaefell.

We nimbly hopped over a stile and continued up over a couple of fields,   very boggy after the wet winter we have had so far. 

At the top we paused by the disused mine building to catch our breath and take in the view.



As we descended back towards Laxey we stopped to visit the Megalithic tomb known as King Orry's Grave. However, as the tomb predates the arrival of the Vikings by a century or two, it is  unlikely to be his bones resting there.



Lunch was a very tasty fish chowder at the Ballacregga Corn Mill cafe.  A very pleasant interlude with a very pleasant companion.

Now back home for a hot shower and a cup of tea.

Whilst I was out walking, P met a friend for a run over the fells.  He said it was freezing up there so we had been lucky with our walk lower down.  He took this photo from the top....brrr...







The Memorial Garden

Tucked away in the western corner of our grounds lies the Chapel memorial garden.

When the chapel was converted into a private dwelling the gravestones were lifted, keeping the original graves in place, and many of them were moved to this space to create the memorial garden.

There is a covenant on the property giving public right of access to the memorial garden on Sundays between 10-2, although as it was originally a "Strangers' Graveyard", for visitors who succumbed to illness whilst here or shipwreck  victims washed up on our shores   most descendants of those interred here would be off-island.

There is  a fascinating little book called Story From Stone;   written by two local ladies it recounts little stories with an accompanying history about 40 of these graves.

I shall probably post more about this later but here are some photos  taken on this rather dull afternoon so please excuse the poor quality.