August

And then after July came August as usual. August started well - exceptionally well in fact; the very first day we had our annual Big Day Out on the beach. We "camp out" all day once a year on one of the huge deserted beaches on the arms of the Ebro Delta, with a fantastic knee-deep bay of water on one side of the beach, and  the wilder sea of the open Mediterranean on the other. See satellite photo below. Cousins, grannies, uncles, friends, we all hit the beach with cars loaded up with sun shades (essential), kites, buckets and spades, canoes, picnics, drinks... and spend the full day there till dusk. A great time was had by all.

Two days later I flew to England with our oldest son (12 today) to drop him off at my parents' in South Yorkshire for a week's break from us and a chance to practise his English. And then I flew back to Catalonia. The rest of us spent another week here, finishing off translation work and coping with the heatwave before joining Andreu in England for a 3-week holiday.

However the day before we flew I felt a sharp pain in my leg which brought back unhappy memories of my DVT 2 years ago and so went to the hospital to have it checked. I was given the all-clear, and a couple of blood-thinning injections "just in case" and told to fly.

For our first week in England we'd decided to go to the Lake District and a grand time was had by all - lake cruises, treks up and down hills, bathing in tarns and lakes, eating Grasmere gingerbread, visiting the Pencil Museum and so on. See photos.

However, again, by mid-week that pain was starting to come back. I managed to finish the week in the Lakes but as soon as we got back to my parents' we went to Barnsley Hospital A&E to check it wasn't a DVT again.... and it wasn't, it was a SVT! I'll explain: instead of a potentially life-threatening deep vein thrombosis which could mean the clot moving into the delicate parts of your body, it was (is) a "superificial vein thrombosis" or "thrombophlebitis" which is nowhere near as bad ... unless it develops into a DVT if the clots start to move from one vein system to another... which shouldn't happen but.... lots of should/might/but/not usually vocabulary used by the doctors who gave me a very thorough looking over in the hospital (long live the NHS!) meant that I spent the next 2 weeks scared out of my brains once again. They were right, though, so far: the pain was intense and unbearable for a few days but has gradually faded, and is now just annoying. They say in 7-14 days more I should be OK again as the SVT is just running its course. It all meant I did hardly anything for the other 2 weeks in England but I did manage to check out a new second-hand record shop in Elsecar, The Vinyl Tap! With a few more blood-thinning injections "just in case" we flew back to Catalonia on 31 August and now the next step is seeing more doctors to see why this has happened and if there's anything I can do about it - and, looking at my history repeating itself, whether these incidents are related to flying.

I am still resting up at home now but hope to get into school for some preparation this week, and aim to be 100% for working when classes start on the 14th. Our kids also go back to school that day, with our son moving up to the Big Boys' School - i.e. secondary school. Time flies.

Leg (s). Mine and others.

No és que sigui hipocondriac o paranoic, però aquest estiu passat vaig viure unes experiencies que encara ara recordo...

... recordareu (o no) que fa un any, vaig patir un trombosisa la cama. Vaig estar de baixa des de l’estiu 2013 fins al gener d’aquest any, i no vaig rebre el OK dels metges fins al febrer quan em van fer les ultimes proves i va acabar el tractament. Pos, a l’agost(2014) vam anar de vacances al mateix lloc on vaig notar per primer cop els dolors del trombosis, un any abans, a l’agost 2013. Pujant les escales empinades i de cargol en una casa que lloguem per passar les vacances de l’estiu – per més inri, en un poble empinat que no fas res més que pujar i baixar tot el dia.

Des de febrer fins l’estiu, jo havia tornat a treballar pero tampoc havia fet gairé cosa més d’exercici per falta de temps. Per tant, les vacances també van coincidir amb les primeres caminades (de mitja  o 3 /4 d’hora només) des del trombosi. En fi, a cada pujada, notava dolor – coses que els metges em van dir que seria normal, però jo no podia evitar de recordar els dolors del trombosi. A les escales de la casa, cada dia, pujant-les a pas de tortuga i encara així tremolava. I a la nit, ja “descansant” al llit, notava cada dolor, cada punxada, cada cansament de l’exercici del dia com si fos un nou atac, fins al punt que passava hores sense dormir, o em despertava a meitat nit suant i tremolant!

Per sort, i per suppost, no va passa res. Vam acabar les vacances i vam tornar a casa. Suposo que era necessarir trepitjar l’escenari del “crimen” per passar pagina, però el meu cap no pot controlar aquesta mena de sensacions i realment va ser un calvari!

En fi, al setembre, em va tocar la revisió d’un any, i em van confirmar que estic curat del tot –algunes venes m’han quedat fetes malbé i això em pot causar (i causa) moltesties per a ves a saber quant de temps, però no genera perill. Un altre de passat...

....

Not that I’m a hypochondriac or obsessive paranoic type person but... you may (or not) remember I suffered from a DVT last year, from summer 2013 to the end of the year. I got back to work in January this year but didn’t get the 100% OK from the doctors until February when the 6-month treatment came to an end. Well, this summer we returned to the “scene of the crime”, the holiday cottage in Staithes where it all started in August 2013. A house noted for its steep narrow, and spiral, staircase – which is where I first noticed the pain. In a town noted for its steep narrow and winding streets. The 2014 holiday also coincided with my first real walks (even though only ½ or ¾ hour ones) since I’d got back to work. Anyway, every walk or climb threw up strange sensations in my legs - and every slight twinge of pain was automatically converted in my brain into “here we go again, get a doctor”. I couldn’t get the bloody idea out of mind for the week we were there. Worst of all was in bed at night as I could feel everything, a twinge here, a sharp pain there, needles and pins, hot, cold, you name it I laid in bed awake for hours on end worrying about it – or woke up in the middle of the night trembling and sweating through some nightmarish thoughts I couldn’t get under control.

I suppose I had to do it, go back there as soon as possible, and close that chapter in my life, but, my God, it was hard – and strange. Hopefully, that’s it now, I can move on.

Anyway, in September I had to go back for my “one year later, check up” and my clean bill of health was confirmed. The scan did show, though, that some of the minor veins in my leg have been damaged which is what’s to blame for this constant niggling pain I feel. Not a danger to my health, apparently, but annoying.