Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Blue.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 4.
Tears: Yep - but not sad ones.
Clever Bird got Baggy to put her big girl pants on this morning, and call the doctors' surgery. (As a little aside, her big girl pants, are very slightly less big than they were a week ago! It's not rocket science that carrying an excess four-stone, is not doing Baggy any favours when she can't breathe anyway because of the anaemia; so for the last week she has been making a bit of an effort to shift some of it. She's using a combination of: 'Don't be a total idiot Hormonal Hannah and effectively self-harm by totally over-indulging' and doing her own (not anywhere near so strict) version of the Slimming World plan and getting Furry Mama walking, rather than dawdling, with the pooch. It seems to be working, as she's already lost 7lbs!)
Anyway, she spoke to a receptionist, who agreed a doctor needed to call her. A doctor called an hour later - Clever Bird's lost count, but she thinks it was the fifth different one she's spoken to about her anaemia!! To cut quite a long conversation short; (Hormonal Hannah was determined not to be fobbed off, so she kept hoicking her big pants up and asking questions), Baggy isn't much the wiser.
'Yes, four weeks does seem too long, so get your bloods retaken in two weeks.'
'Okay, but.....still feeling worse, blah, blah, even though on iron tablets, blah.......'
'Are you absorbing the iron?'
'Urmmm - no idea!'
'Well, how is your bowel action?'
'Oh, I see - well put it this way, I'm doing back-to-back bluey-black cowpats.'
'So clearly you're not absorbing the iron.'
'Right, well that makes sense. Sorry, that hadn't even occurred to me,' apologised a slightly embarrassed Clever Bird. Even as Hormonal Hannah wondered why the hell she was apologising.
'We'll try you on a different type of iron.'
'Rightho.'
'If that doesn't work, we might have to consider an iron infusion by injection.'
Funny that, thought Freda Fretter, who'd been thinking that was needed for weeks.
'I'm on the Omeprazole as well, and it's making me really bloated, do I need to be on it?'
'You do, but we can prescribe you a different type.'
Big girl pants, pulled up to midriff, 'Okay, well thanks for that, but do you have an idea what might me causing this anaemia, because seriously, I'm struggling to function now?'
'No. None. As GPs all we can do is try things, you'd need to be referred to a specialist to find the cause. I've sent the new prescriptions to Boots, so see how you get on with those.'
'Thank you so much,' said Baggy.
The doctor hung up, as Clever Bird realised that Baggy's big girl pants had slipped below her knees. 'Why on earth didn't I ask why they hadn't therefore referred me?' thought Freda Fretter as Baggy's pants settled around her ankles. 'Because I'm bloody hopeless, that's why!!' Call over, Baggy showered. When she got out, she felt even itchier than she'd felt before she got in the shower. As she dressed, Furry Mama noticed that Pepper Pooch was once again scratching like a numpty! He'd also spent an age, licking his bottom last night. Furry Mama realised that he must be allergic to the Probiotic Yoghurt treat that she thought he was okay on. As Baggy scratched her itchy, head, face, arms, legs, arms, face, head, legs, arms, bum........Clever Bird suddenly wondered whether Baggy was allergic to the iron - not just 'not absorbing it'!! She does after all have an allergy to metal, and can only wear gold or platinum, or very pure silver! Hannah instantly forgot this thought, and Pepper and Furry Mama headed off to Southwold.
Creative Clara had intended on going to the beach with the pottery and glass on it, but the tide was not far enough out for Baggy to reach it, so instead they went to their 'usual' bit of beach. Amazingly, there was a space in the tiny free-layby, so Baggy treated herself to a cappuccino and a bacon butty, with the money that she usually has to pay for parking.
And yes Baggees, Bear went with them as well - a sure sign that Hormonal Hannah is struggling - but he did have a lovely time. Once back in Billy Bob Jalopy campervan, Baggy decided to set the bed up, so that should the need arise, she can have a snooze!! The need is very likely to arise tomorrow, when Baggy has to drive The Domestic Goddess to the holiday cottage to clean it, as her lovely caretaker is off on hols!
Pepper can now really stretch out!
When they got home, Clara started to write this blog. Clever Bird decided to Google or more accurately, to Bing whether one can be allergic to iron. And yes they can!! The main indicator being itching and she really empathises with the pooch, because frankly if she could reach to lick her bottom, she too might be tempted. No, sorry, you're right Baggees - yuck! So she has decided that she won't take any more iron tablets until she can get her new version, and if the itching continues on those, she will do her best to remember to get Clever Bird to tell the doctor. Of course Freda Fretter is now worrying about what this will mean long term, how after all is an injection of iron going to go down if it comes to that? Clever Bird is beginning to realise that a blood transfusion might be on the cards - but unless someone somewhere works out what is causing the anaemia in the first place, presumably that blood too would ultimately fail. Well at least Clever Bird kept her appointment to actually see the doctor that started this whole process, just another eight days to wait then the big girl pants will be held in place by braces......
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