27 Monday Oct 2025
Posted in health, health & happiness, knee saga, knees
21 Tuesday Oct 2025
Posted in health, health & happiness, knee saga, knees
Went to see the GP last week to get the results of last blood test (all good apparently!). I also mentioned my disappointment with the surgeon’s report, that she had only prescribed pain killers, including a fucking opioid, with a revision supposedly in three months time. I explained to my doctor that this WASN’T TREATMENT it was avoiding proper treatment and then I asked how I could ask to get a second opinion.
To my surprise she actually took the time to explain to me that with arthrosis and other knee problems the first line treatment is painkillers until such time that the surgeon agrees that surgery is necessary. She said that for the moment I was not going to get anything else… BUT (and apparently it’s a big but?) she said the fact that they asked for new x-rays and a follow-up in 3 months means that they haven’t ruled out surgery. Yet.
So okay… I’ve heard stories of people waiting four years for knee surgery. And yes, if I had private insurance – and paid whatever add-on – I could have had this done a year ago like my pal Charo. Meanwhile, she had to get hers done over and even now walks with a noticeable limp.
Anyhow, got me thinking that I may well be stuck in this loop for longer than I even want to imagine… so what can I do? The other day I saw a woman pedalling down the street on a trike with a comfy basket to hold stuff and I thought… maybe? A bit of quick research shows me that most e-trikes are super heavy and expensive so not really for me, because I would also like to use this not only for getting around but also for daily exercise. Meaning I’d also want to be able to pedal the thing, not just use it as a get-around vehicle. So if anyone has any experience with trikes, would love to hear from you.
13 Tuesday May 2025
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It seems like all I’m doing these days is going to various doctor’s appointments, either mine or Peter’s. Shortly after Peter saw the nephrologist last Friday, which culminated in the fabulous breakfast you see above, before I had to give a Sherry & Tapas Tasting at 12.30 (no point in going home in between) he suddenly got a call saying he had an appointment for an abdominal ultrasound on Monday. Like wtf? Meanwhile I’ve been waiting since October to see the knee surgeon.
Anyhow, as Peter’s ultrasound was at the Virgen del Rocío general hospital yesterday I decided that, since we were there anyhow, I’d try and find out what’s going on with my other appointments. No small feat. I tried the general info office and was told I would have to go to each different department (in different buildings, natch) and check with their secretaries. To be honest, they were really nice, and when I got lost in the ultrasound dept a very nice woman (there with a friend, not employed by the hospital) helped me find the right secretary for echocardiograms. A shut door in a hallway, like what? And the woman said “just knock and walk in” so I did AND IT WORKED (who knew?) The secretary was on the phone but waved me in and motioned me to sit down. And she was great. Turns out I have an appointment on May 26th at 9.30 am. She said I will probably get the notice in the mail next week. Okay-dokey… but then the most important one was still not accounted for.
Off I headed to the Traumatology hospital (behind the general hospital). Yep more walking. Oh, I didn’t mention that getting a taxi to the hospital the day after Feria closed meant that the usual route was virtually shut down due to everyone trying to close their casetas and remove all their STUFF… when we finally managed to flag a taxi the driver said “it’s hell down there” and said he could find another less direct route so we didn’t end up stuck in traffic forever. What the heck. In the end it only cost about 4 euros more than the usual fare to the hospital and wow did we get a tour of the city! I was really impressed by this guy. But approaching the hospital entrance from “behind” meant we had to walk a bit to get to there. So then having to go BACK to the Traumatology hospital (where the taxi had dropped us off) felt a bit like OMFG… but hey we were already there. Or at least in the general vicinity. Whatever, went for it.
Hobbled over to the T-hospital and, after being misdirected a couple of times to the wrong person to ask, success! Just go down to the basement level and ask for the Secretary there. Downstairs. With only two of three lifts working and taking everyone from the basement, sub-basement and up all the floors up to the fifth one. Let’s just say they were SLOW in coming and then so packed out that I finally said FUCK THIS and hobbled/crutched my way down the stairs. Yeah, hurt like fuck, but so would have waiting half an hour for the fucking lift. Anyhow…
Eventually found the Secretary (I’m getting good at this!) hobbled in and said I was looking for my lost knee surgeon appointment. And, just like the other secretary, she was really nice and helpful, had a look around and said that because the original request for the appointment came from the Fleming Clinic I would have to back there to “reclamar”. And I just thought… oh no…
Because I probably should have done that last December instead of going to the Defensor del Pueblo, who are also very nice but so far… nothing helpful. And I should have definitely done this last March when I went to the Mercado Palmeritas doing research for a Bitesize article and WALKED RIGHT PAST the goddam Fleming Clinic on the way (it’s really not close to home). I could have just stopped in when I was in the neighbourhood. A missed moment? I guess I’ll find out.
Because I have a mammogram scheduled on Friday – SEE IT’S ALWAYS SOMETHING – and no it’s not really close to Fleming but it’s also not far, so I am going to stop in there on the way and ask what’s going on. Because even the secretary at the main Traumatología hospital said this waiting period (since October) is not normal.
I hate to think I may have lost months because I didn’t take a day in December to go back to the scene of the crime and just ask them what the hell was going on. What I found out today is that this seems to be what you have to do. Not call, not write, not whatever else… just go there and stand in front of an actual person and ask them to check for you. You may lose a morning or an afternoon but hey, better than losing months by being in painful limbo.
So, that’s the plan and I guess there’s no point in thinking about what has maybe been lost, or how this or that may have turned out differently had I known this or that sooner, had acted sooner or better. Because it may not have turned out different or better anyhow. And all I can do is hope to get this dealt with. I’m so tired of it all, feeling helpless, always in pain, not knowing when (if??) help will be offered. So very tired.
16 Wednesday Apr 2025
Posted in friends, health & happiness, hope, sevilla, tapas bars
I started off the day more or less okay, though with less sleep than I’d hoped for, and also waking up with a black cloud of “let’s beat up Shawn” hanging over me for not being all I’d hoped to be over the past few days. Without going into details, just a lot of the usual letting myself down stuff and deciding I’m a shit person for always letting myself down… ufff… it was hard to get up.
But I got up! Because Morcilla was looking a bit perkier and I had to prepare her special breakfast of Hill’s ID Prescription Diet, and also dole out a bit for Luna (or I’d never hear the end of it). So a spoonful of this apparently delicious paté for Luna on top of her bics and a fresh bowl of it for Morcilla. Both cats happy.
Then I got on the ol’ laptop, coffee in hand, and started on the usual online stuff. At some point I thought to tell my downstairs neighbour that Morcilla was feeling better and… well fuck me. I got back a pleasant response re: Morcilla but then it was like getting stuck in a time warp of weird.
My neighbour is 80-something as far as I know. She has no family to speak of, so she’s mostly on her own. After I first moved in – summer 2017 – we met up for lunch at a local bar and everything seemed fine. But then things went weird and suddenly I was being accused of being a BAD PERSON and all kinds of other WTF nastiness… all of this happening when I happened to pass her in the entrance. She would literally scream this in my face. And so I backed away…
Over the years there have been goodish and bad times with the neighbour. By goodish I mean she would sometimes stop screaming at me whenever we happened to cross paths. It seems my major crime is that I am not being a Good Neighbour, in that I don’t invite her up for coffee and a chat, that we aren’t always in contact, that (her words) SHE FEELS MORE ALONE WITH ME AS A NEIGHBOUR THAN IF I WASN’T THERE AT ALL.
I mean, fuck. We are in touch on WhatsApp, I am there for her if she actually needs anything, she knows she can call. For example, when she was recently very sick with “a cold” she asked if I had a Covid test at home and could I show her how to use it. So of course I popped down with the test, got it done, it was negative. No problem. But today I was apparently someone who would be better if they didn’t exist. Her words.
Now I know these are the words of a cranky old woman who lives a alone and is in a lot of daily chronic pain and so of course I shouldn’t take this personally. Except I do because they mirror the words I use against myself ALL THE TIME. Without realising it (I think?) she is reinforcing every awful thing I ever think about myself and I end up with that hard knot of anxiety in my belly because of course I’m awful otherwise why else would people keep saying so?
Then I went out with flatmate Peter to have a cold beer and a couple of tapas… just to get out of the house today before the Semana Santa crowds took over. Stopped in at Taberna Zurbarán and – oops! – like many bars during Semana Santa they had removed all chairs and bar stools because of the crowds.
But when they saw me with my crutches at the end of the bar one of the guys magicked a bar stool for me, saying “don’t tell anybody!” and then other bar staff – totally run off their feet – stopped in their tracks when they saw me and it was all “Hey Shawn, so great to see you!” and then the owner of the bar came over with a tapa on the house (that gorgeous tortilla up there), just because. And then suddenly I felt like, hey I can’t be such a horrible person, otherwise all of these lovely people wouldn’t be so lovely to me. And just like that… my day changed.
People get this notion of me being something I’m not, or rather, they take one part of what they perceive to be me and then blow it all out of proportion to suit their opinion. As if I am only just one thing. But one thing I have learned over the years is that if anyone tells me I “intimidate” them (and this happens a lot!) I basically head for the hills because I already know they’re not seeing me as me and nothing good can come from that bullshit.
BUT… today some lovely people at one of my favourite tapas bars made me feel welcome and special, simply because we know that we just like and appreciate each other. Nothing other than that. Because nothing else matters.
14 Monday Apr 2025
Posted in casa azahar, health, health & happiness, hospitals, my barrio, sevilla, spain
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One of the many – out of MANY MANY MANY – reasons I love living where I do is how well connected I am by public transport in my barrio. And especially since getting my old geezer free bus pass, in combination with THE KNEE mobility issues, I can just hop on hop off taking buses for one or two stops… and trust me sometimes that makes all the difference.
Anyhow, today I had an appointment with the cardiologist at the ridiculously beautiful but otherwise not especially efficient Hospital Duque del Infantado. Get this. I saw my GP on March 17th and within a couple of weeks had received dates for two specialists appointments – Cardio and an MRI for my neck and shoulder. In fact, I had to move the MRI forward because I still had that pesky cough from when I was sick a couple of weeks ago. Meanwhile I am STILL WAITING TO HEAR ABOUT THE KNEE SPECIALIST APPT THAT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE OCTOBER. Fuck.
In the past, just like when I go to Hospital Virgen del Rocío, I’ve always just grabbed a taxi at the end of my street in front of the posh Gran Meliá Hotel Colón (always lots of taxis there). Six to eight euros well spent, I reckoned. But this week is Semana Santa, which means the Bastard Taxi Pirates are out for anything they can get. Yes, there is an official Semana Santa surcharge, but I just didn’t want to have to go through the hassle of all that. And so I checked the bus routes and saw… OMG… I could catch the updated Línea 3 not far from home and get dropped off about five minutes from the hospital. FOR FREE.
And it’s a good thing I discovered this as I now have an appointment there on April 28th to get a 24-hour Holter, and that is also where I will see the knee surgeon WHENEVER THAT HAPPENS. It’s actually one of the two specialist hospitals I end up at most. The other one, Clínica Fleming, is also accessible by bus. For now. It’s this time of year that I start to worry about whether my landlord is going to renew my contract in the summer, and I will now be on tenterhooks until July. But for now… just loving living here.
casa azahar 