Monday, 23 October 2017

Shit week, last week...

Lump scan...

So far so good, but who could think your chum Scrobs had a breast problem?

Fabulous girls and boys in Pembury Hospital - I was the last to leave well after 7:00pm...

29 comments:

A K Haart said...

I hope all goes well. I suppose we have reached a certain age and must expect it. Still comes as a shock though.

Thud said...

Chin up....sending good wishes your way from all here.

rvi said...


Good luck pal. Hope whatever it might be has been caught in time. Fingers, eyes. knees etc etc crossed.

I had a very narrow escape a couple of years ago when a generally painless undetected cancerous growth (which weighed 1.6kgs according to the doc after the op!) appeared on, not in, the top of one of my kidneys. Happily it was caught just in time (thanks to me for demanding an MRI, which the doc upgraded to a CT scan - which then resulted in urgent surgery two days later) but meant the loss of the kidney concerned. The oncologist, a charming Chinese doc, assured me that I only had something under 18 months left if I took no action, which was a great incentive to do something pdq!!

All ok now but I have to watch what I imbibe to make sure the only one left is treated with great respect! Please keep us all informed as you get the results etc..



Goosegirl said...

As you know, Goosegirl used to wear a white coat so what she says is ever thus: lumps can be due to all sorts of things so it just needs a good going-over to see what's what. If the lab they use is as good as ours, it'll all be sorted out before you even hear the rustle of a nurse's apron. I know this will deprive you of some errant lusting but at least you can blame it on the after-effects from the anaesthetic! Just don't say what I did when I asked my pals if they had mint sauce with their ice-cream!! Now (and said with a stern wing pointing straight up into the sky) you'd better let us know how you diddled or we'll drink all your tinctures before you get home!

Michael said...

Thanks Mr H, so far so good, just a couple more tests to finalise, and we're done! Bummer really!

Michael said...

Chin definitely higher than a kite, Thud - thank you!

Michael said...

Yup, you were very quiet about that back then, Reevers!

I'm glad you got over that particulat time, and maybe having one less body-part-machine also helps the tincture situation, by letting you have more nice stuff rather than lots of cheap stuff isn't such a bad idea after all!

Michael said...

We're actually nearly finished, Goosey, but talking of crisp white uniforms doesn't help, as the blood pressure mounts. I saw a doctor, two specialists, two machine operators and lots of lovely people just willing me on. It was sad to see some of the faces in the waiting rooms though; I had to get some friendly banter going which hopefully helped.

There's so far nothing worth chopping out, so unforch I'll have to do without the poking of the page three items...

Will know finally by the end of the week!

rvi said...

Scrobs.
Regrettably tinctures is orf. Doc's orders. Do you know I cannot honestly recall the last time I partook of a beer, a spirit or a glass of grape(*) juice. After the first 3 years it gets easier to not think about it and settle for a glass of iced lemon tea...

Michael said...

That probably has several upsides, Reevers!

I know that trousers are a good sign of a certain intake, but that stabilised a few years ago...

Goosegirl said...

I didn't know you could get trousers with stabilisers. Sounds a good idea when you've over-imbibed!

Michael said...

They're the sort with wide wheels, Goosey, so I can steer easily!

Nothing like a couple of big wheals to get the corpuscles churning...

(As said earlier, we don't have mods here; I do all that! ;0)

Goosegirl said...

Well slap my thigh with TLC and a large tube of Arnica! Which corpuscles churn the most? the red ones, the white ones or both? Does it require a special implement? If so, can you get it on-line or under the abacus(if you get my drift)!!

rvi said...

Mr S,

Being nosey, I checked out your reference to whealy trousers - and got this:

"Wheal-and-flare reaction | definition of wheal-and-flare ...
medical-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/wheal...

Looking for online definition of wheal-and-flare reaction in the Medical Dictionary? wheal-and-flare reaction explanation free. What is wheal-and-flare reaction?"

Now, I know my memory is not what it used to was, but I distinctly recall not wearing flares back in the 60s. However, I must have missed the wheals fashion (mainly perhaps because I was in the middle of Africa for much of that decade). Not sure I really missed much though. Do tell us more and stop keeping us in suspenseders.

Goosegirl said...

Ah - wheal and flare reaction (or as Spooner could almost say "feel and wear" however that does not answer your question). Say someone gave you a good caning, then the tissues at the point of impact send out a chemical message saying "Ow, that bloody hurt" then you get these wheals that look like a red flush surrounded by a flare which is more of a blush-colour. This reaction is due to the ever-alert white corpuscles (the "soldiers" of the immune system) responding to their message. When they arrive they concentrate on the impact point and release certain chemicals which the tissues react to (hence the red wheal) and while they are doing their duty to bring things back to normal they send some other cells out to report back on how the surrounding area is coping. Because this area is not as badly affected it doesn't need as many chemical-releasing cells and that's why it's not as red.

rvi said...

Yes Ms Goosey, I know all that, but I still fail to understand how red wheals relates to trouser stabilisers.... or perhaps I am intruding on some in joke twixt you and our stabilised trouser host. If so I apologise and will bow out forthwith.

Goosegirl said...

Ah - so my detailed response was, how shall I say, a bit pants?! Mea culpa. I will now try to explain the problem re- wheals and trouser stabilisers and it may take some time. As you well know when you look on Google for something like this, besides getting a lot of completely unrelated stuff your mother never told you about, it's a case of "you get what you pay for." If you are a bit how shall we say, lacking in the wallet area you may be tempted to go for a cheaper option especially if it comes with a guaranteed waterproof cover, Wi-Fi connection and a free six-monthly trial of "The Local Taxidermist" which you don't need (you don't do you??) then afterwards you can always enjoy telling them to get stuffed, may I gently suggest you invest in a sturdy and decent quality set of stabilisers in order that they remain securely attached to the trouser area because if they don't they will have you banging your legs everywhere you go and cause wheals in certain areas I'd prefer not to mention. To get what you need, avoid the NHS as they only dispense them free of charge if your house has sloping floors (mine has but they slope the wrong way), ensure they are eco-friendly by using your own breath to blow them up, choose the correct size for the terrain you normally go on (personally I don't think a cup 46D qualifies) and above all, don't pay for an extended guarantee as you can easily get some compo by loosening a few nuts. Actually, and after all this palaver, why don't you get some red braces like my OH did. Far more swanky and you don't need to swat the moths coming out of your piggy bank. You can also get a matching bow and red socks but you have to be a good boy or Santa won't come!

Michael said...

Sorry to be so tardy on responses here, folks, I'll be on the case as soon as possible, but we've got no hot water at the moment, and as Bill is not getting here until three this afternoon to put a new box on the circuit, I'm just going to smell, and the washing up will have to wait too...

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible!

rvi said...

Thank you for that detailed exposition of the dangers of walking inside ones own house (and probably other places too!)with dodgy unstabilised trousers. I have seriously considered your advice and agree wholeheartedly that, with effect from noon tomorrow, I shall attach my 1956 edition cricket pads and heave a great sigh of relief that my legs will henceforth remain unwhealed. I really cannot understand why I did not think of this years ago!

Goosegirl said...

Hello rvi. You don't know how happy that makes me to know I've been able to assist you in avoiding certain unnecessary injuries, however I have been rather amiss in addressing the whole issue as per avoiding getting wheals outside the "box" (if you get my drift). My dear friend Baron Munschausen had a very nasty experience when he'd had a bit too much Gluehwein during the local Saurerkraut competition because he came a runner-up to Delia Smith. As he approached his palatial house he skidded on his gravelled path, fell backwards, banged his head and went out like a light. When he regaining consciousness he realised how his initial comments of "Das Fuhrer gergunnensteppen macht mein stumfstern besoren und ist angeschissen" in front of his servants reflected badly not only on his personal status but also on his forthcoming entry to the "Kuchenbakenoff" competition, so he went to his study to ponder on the meaning of life as he saw it. Somewhere between Aardvark and Advocaat he had a light-bulb moment, so he grabbed his pad and pencil and sketched out a new stabiliser design that would not only compensate for any left and right deviations but also those which may result from a north and south attack. His only problem was where to attach them and how. I will keep you informed if I hear any news but I wouldn't hold my breath!

rvi said...

That only leaves me to acknowledge the terrific advances in German trouser stability tech. It is seen daily all over the place and as the Baron probably (didn't) say _Mein pants ist vorsprung durch technik.



PS: Vous savez sans doute que je ne parle pas la langue kraut, mais je vous assure que j'ai bien compris ce que vous avez ecrit! Au revoir.

Goosegirl said...

Merci rvi. I would have responded earlier but I've just received my bank statement ... anyhow, having had a couple of early tinctures, I may have had an out-of-the-box idea about trouser stabilisers. Rather than spending lots of hard-earned wonga on items made in Germany which arrive flat-packed (which is ok unless you don't live in one) only to find a miniscule stamp on the inside of one of the legs saying 中國製造, I may finally have an answer to your problem. Whilst in my lab last night, I came up with a formula that produced amazing results. All you need is a large stainless steel cooking pan filled with five litres of warm water to which you add five tablespoons each of agar, carrageen, cellulose, gelatin, Guar gum, locust bean gum, pectin, and starch. Bring to a simmer for one hour, leave to cool then pour the contents of the pan into an empty Lenor container and put the top on. Now comes the interesting part! Put your un-stabilised trousers into the washing machine, add soap powder as normal but, instead of adding softening liquid, add one capful of your mix, set the wash programme to 40C and press start. In my next post I will tell you what to do (and how much Goosers Ink will charge you for the necessary essential info) when the washing cycle has finished.
As for Michael, I assume his boiler is up and running and he's well-scrobbed by now.

rvi said...



S C R O B S!! H E L P!!!

I am being sexually assaulted by a person (fowl??) of the female gender (I hope!!!) who is insisting I do some washing!! Whatever next??

That activity is the prerogative of the lady who comes once a week to take our soiled clothing to a nearby river where she beats each item against a sturdy rock. If I accept the suggestion made and undertake my own rock-bashing, I will have to ..er.. disengage said lady - who will then no doubt rush to the nearest ambulance-chasing lawyer to claim unfair dismissal and demand 25 years' back pay and NI contributions - and, as a devout, practising layabout, such action would certainly drastically impinge on the lifestyle to which I have long become accustomed.

However, the most interesting thing about the recipe above is that I can generally produce an identical result by simply spending half an hour or so in the garage under the car trying to locate that persistent, infernal, gearbox oil leak. As proof, I offer my 1956 (now very colourful) cricket pads which have stood alone and upright for the past 60-odd years.

PS - If you really need a shower, please drop by. I shall airmail you the ticket before the weekend. <:-O



Michael said...

Reevers, I can assure you that Goosey is a sturdy, extremely good-looking and enticingly upright citizen, well-known in gardening circles as an expert in most things, and her professional life was spent mixing chemicals in such a way that even I was wondering if that mixture would work...

As for the plane ticket, er - which of us is using it, and - er - where are we going?

(You may have noticed a reference to Angela Snow in recent months; that's our Goosey...;0)

rvi said...

Thank you Scrobs. I now feel much relieved - not least because you have at last been able to have shower. Thus that ticket is no longer required and I can put the cost towards my next trip to your neck of the woods probably some time next year.

I confess I had not noticed any reference to Angela, but since she arrived this space has certainly become a lot more entertaining and intellectually stimulating and interesting. Mr Trumpet, Elias and Boris might, however, not approve, but who cares what they think anyway!

Goosegirl said...

Um - there seems to be some tangential deviations from previous posts re- wheals and flares to the eternal and never-ending subject of washing. Have you unconsciously revealed some Freudian slips here (not that I'm suggesting you two wear them) but rvi's comment on feeling I've somehow sexually assaulted him is rather worrying. I know the subject is never off the news at the moment but one has to consider the ramifications of the public knowing you get someone else to do your laundry and how that could be interpreted as a chance to enhance your libido. By that I mean supervising your employee slapping said clothes on sturdy boulders could suggest one is getting one's rocks off during the process. Nay lads, nay! Best to keep in under wraps and invest in one of Goosey's "Launderdown Washo-matics" which not only ensures your clothes come out clean as can be, but as they're pedal-operated, so not only do you get some exercise and a reduction on your electrical bill, it also saves you from searching for your binoculars you inadvertently left by the river as you'll need them to read the small print on the guarantee. BTW - is there any way I can avoid having to keep entering my name and then prove I'm not a robot?

Sen. C.R.O'Blene said...

Well, well, well! Someyears ago, I mentioned that I had a friend, who had a three-legged dog, and his dad owned a laundry! This was hailed by an eminent poster here as pure poetry, which was stretching a point, but very welcome!

I'm glad the theme has resurfaced after all this time!

Goosey, I'm not sure how you respond as you describe. I never admit to being a robot, what do you do Reevers?

rvi said...

Ha ha ha!! Lovely post from Goosey. Those exchanges were pure delight.

It brought to mind my first day at grammar school way back when...

The school had a secondary stream and a grammar stream (and a few years later, a technical stream too.) On the first day, about 70 newbies clustered in the playground looking forward to the next five years. It was easy to spot the grammar bods as we had been instructed to wear the school uniform of grey (unstabilised) trousers, smart blue blazer with the identifying badge and of course the inevitable cap. The secmod lot merely wore what their mums put on them that morning.

At around 9am a couple of teachers appeared in the playground to sort us all out. A whistle blew and everyone stood still. One of them said that he was going to call out names and when yours is called to go and stand in a line in front of the other teacher. The grammar line of capped chaps was eventually called and we were all (23 of us) shepherded into what was to become our 'home' classroom.

Another teacher appeared and told us his name and announced that we were 'his' class for the next 12 months. He had a piece of paper in his hands which listed our names. He proceeded to read them out one at a time and, as our names were mentioned, told us which desk to occupy. We had a few "interesting" surnames, one of which was "Gosling".

In the way of the world back then, before the end of that day everyone of us had acquired a suitable nickname by which we would be known among the group for the next five years - and indeed long after we had left. Many of us still maintain contact some almost 60 years later and have the odd reunion from time to time.

Master Gosling of course became "Goose".

Re the robot thingy, I have mentioned this already several times, but the program seems to have no memory capability to remember regular users. I find it intensely annoying to tick all the relevant boxes and the still be asked to do it all over again (several times) before it actually agrees that a humanoid and not a robot is trying to post comments.

New post I see. Onwards and upwards....

Just took 7 goes!!

Goosegirl said...

Before I look at this new post, I have to say "mea culpa" and bow my head in shame because I meant to say a very big thank you to Mr. Mc'Srobes for allowing me access to his wonderful blog. I've never blogged ever; blagged a couple of times, eaten blog, even made some, but since the gardening forum I used went all PC and, having had no outlet for how shall we say my quirky and slightly outré sense of humour, I have been languishing in the depths of despair. Now I feel refreshed and rejuvenated to the point where he may sometimes wonder if he'd done the right thing; however I never let a chum down as he well knows. As for rvi, thank you too for your kind comments, however the recent allusion to washing resulted in me going out for a nice time with my dear niece today and guess what I brought home? Yup - a mop! BTW, strangely enough when posting yesterday, for the first time I didn't have to prove I was a robot. SPOOKY!"