No guts, no glory

I was originally going to call this blog post “Smörgåsbord”, and it’s not surprising I should have had food on my mind. I came down with gastroenteritis on Thursday, and since then I have subsisted mostly on dry toast, tea, water, and electrolyte drinks. Forays into peanut butter on the toast and lentil soup were unsuccessful. I have only been beyond the gates a couple of times since it all began; the excursion yesterday was to a GP in Camberwell. My loyal readership might think I am taking an attack of the runs a bit seriously to call in a medico. For those who have had immuno-suppressant treatments like chemotherapy, however, the recommendation I have read is to call in a GP if the gastro goes on beyond a couple of days. (This was also the suggestion of my oncologist Dr Parente, with whom I had a brief phone conversation yesterday.) So it’s not just me being a wimp!

A medication that Dr P recommended is called Gastrostop. This contains both loperamide, which helps the bowel contents to firm up, and another ingredient meant to reduce abdominal swelling (which can be quite painful). I can report that this combo works well. It is delivered via a chewable tablet, wherein lies its only disadvantage in leaving a bitter taste. (This may not happen for other people.) To get around this, I have been breaking the tablet up and swallowing it in water. When I did this this morning, I felt quite nauseated; fortunately, I wasn’t sick. This could have been related to my being unable to swallow the tablet fragments, and having to chew them after all. Maybe there is a reflex that makes you feel nauseated if you chew something you haven’t been able to swallow. For anyone remotely interested in how their tums work, I can recommend Gulp: travels around the gut, by Mary Roach. (The link points to the Boroondara Library service record.) This is a great piece of science writing. Just don’t read it in your lunch break: especially when she is talking about vomiting and elimination!

Further in this vein, a good source of information about gastroenteritis (which I sincerely hope you won’t need) is the Better Health Victoria web page . From this and other sources I learned that my gastro is viral, not bacterial. Bacterial is accompanied by vomiting and abdominal pain, and can be treated by antibiotics. Viral has neither of these effects, and can’t be treated by antibiotics, or anything much. The main recommendations here are rest, very plain food, water and electrolytes to replace the fluids. Paracetamol can help reduce fever, but won’t do anything for the gastro. (Something nobody points out — stay near a toilet — i.e. at home. And wash your hands every time you go. My beloved has so far not succumbed, although it is way contagious.) The BHV page is superior IMHO to the equivalent federal government one, which is well written, but contains some weird advice along the lines of “Eat normal meals if you feel hungry”. This is pretty much guaranteed to irritate the gut big time! Stick with dry toast, maybe chicken noodle soup, plain rice or noodles. Avoid coffee, alcohol, chocolate, butter, spicy food, and all other fun things. Some GPs feel that loperamide-based medications like Gastrostop prolong the condition by stopping you up, and thus inhibiting the virus from passing through the system. I tell you what, though — if you have been to the toilet ten times, a bit of stopping up starts to feel like a good thing! At the very least, if you want to get a half-way decent sleep, have one or two of these (as directed) before you go to bed.

Coincidentally with this happenstance, we have been down to one car (the GT) in which to get around. Someone ran into the Camry while my beloved had it parked at Chadstone shopping centre. (She wasn’t in it at the time.) Fortunately the driver of the other car left a note under her windscreen wiper, apologising profusely and including her contact details. After quite a number of phone calls, the mobile C-suite has a new bumper, paid for by the other lady’s insurance. Drop-off Thursday, recovered yesterday. (Fair play to the repairer, Capital Smart, for providing my beloved a free Uber ride home and back to the workshop in the wilds of Mulgrave.)

Things got faintly complicated when our insurer got involved as well. We had a comprehensive policy on the Camry at the time of the accident, and ended up paying them the excess on that policy for the current repair. (When our insurers are reimbursed by the other insurers, we should be fully refunded.) Before I got crook, I ferried my beloved around in the GT; fortunately she also had a couple of drives with me as the passenger. This came in handy when I couldn’t stray beyond the front door! She is a very capable driver, however, and got the hang of it in no time, looking very Agatha Raisin in her string-backed gloves and big sunnies. She ended up taking it out for quite a few spins, including a night-time trip to a pharmacy. We bought an automatic model partly so that we could both drive it, and this turns out to have been a good move. It is a very entertaining little device, and injects fun into the most mundane supermarket trip.

 

 

Sir’s undetectable

There was a line of wigs or hairpieces widely advertised in the media of the 1960s or 70s as “Sir’s Undetectable”. I am hoping that someone of my vintage, or thereabouts, can confirm (or otherwise) that I am spelling “Sir’s” correctly with the apostrophe after the “r”. These products were legendary in our family as “Sir’s detectable“!

Dr Google can only turn up a Yellow Pages advertisement for “Sir’s For Men Wigs & Hairpieces” in Baulkham Hills, Sydney, which assures us that this is “A Name You Have Relied On For Three Generations”. My curiosity being aroused, I turned to Trove, where I performed the following search . This only found results from advertising in the Canberra Times from 1980 onwards. These advertisers of this era were unsurprisingly unsure about whether to spell their product “Sir’s”, “Sirs” or even “Sirs’ “, resorting to all three spellings in the 19 ads retrieved. That apostrophe was indeed a pesky piece of punctuation! Is there a grammarian in the house?

There is indeed method behind all this tonsorial nostalgia. My last PSA result repeated the previous one, I think it was, as 0.01. Apparently this amounts to  being undetectable. (I had been hoping for the “bagel score” of 0.0, but I guess the .01 part is a courtesy amount, rather as people refer to retired military or politicians by a courtesy title.) Anyway, I remain happily in remission. The last chemotherapy session went well, as all the previous ones had. Only one to go, on Boxing Day! (I will be seeing the good Dr P on Christmas Eve to get the go-ahead for this final infusion.)

I am still enjoying punting the little Toyota around. The previous weekend I had the chance to stretch its legs a bit on a run down to Cranbourne. This was the first time I had had it on a freeway. It felt very stable and solid, and there was no problem keeping up with the other traffic. It isn’t the best car for an interstate cruiser, being a bit noisy on coarse-chip road surfaces. But it was definitely fun. I think what is enjoyable about it is not just the attributes of the car itself, but the fact that I bought such a wildly unsuitable and midlife-crisis advertising vehicle in so insouciant a fashion!

Still, I am trying to make it as practical as possible. I had the full size spare wheel fitted and the steering wheel re-covered at the dealer’s (these things having being folded into the purchase agreement). I also had a sunvisor and the reversing camera replaced, both under warranty. It remains a delightful car in being easy to manoeuvre around shopping centre carparks, small enough to fit in most car spaces, and very sporty in which to whip around corners. I am also getting the hang of various features like the ability to retract the side mirrors at the press of a button.

On one of these shopping expeditions, I left it in a brand-new supermarket carpark, and returned to find dark red fluid leaking from underneath its nose (or so I thought). On checking the service record, I found that the last service had occurred about nine months ago. This being, oddly, the service interval for this vehicle, I took it to my local garage for a workshop once-over. They replaced all the fluids, and declared that no leaks could be found. The previous owner having been pretty spotty with the servicing, I know it has been brought up to where it should be.

A crazy day

Crazy it might have been, but it was definitely fun. I have just bought a red sports car, same colour and shape as this one — although mine is about four years old.

A bit late for a mid-life crisis, I know. But not too late to do a bucket-list thing. It all started quite inoocently, going into Camberwell Toyota for some spare brake light globes for the faithful Camry. There was a white GT-86 in the used car lot; not the one I ended up with, obviously. (That one was a manual.) Anyway, I asked if they had any automatics. They had one; red, very low kilometres. That was pretty much game over.

When I took it out on its first test on Friday, the manager did inform me that someone was talking to finance about it. When I got back, it had been sold. I wasn’t bothered. This morning, a phone call from the sales rep. The deal had fallen through. So they are fairly popular cars. Was I being played? Possibly. But my beloved and I chipped enough off the ask to make it worthwhile for us to sign the contract. She was the bad cop in the negotiations, and played that magnificently. As soon as she said “We’ll have to go away and think about it”, it all got more business-like. Being near the end of the month helped as well, I think. Everyone wanted to get it done. I will miss the old Fairmont, just a little — it kept me on the go for five years — but I think I will enjoy driving a bit of testosterone on wheels!

I did some vaguely rational stuff like taking it to our local garage for them to give it the once over. (They found no evidence of prangs, or anything wrong.) I cast an eye over prices of the other automatic 86s for sale in Melbourne. I also bought a two year warranty with it, with roadside service. It is even going to come with a full size spare! (This would have been a deal breaker had it not been provided.) My beloved gave it a test drive also; it’s not much use if only one of us can punt it around. Yes, we can both get into and out of it. We will just need to be a bit selective about where we park it; it needs enough room to open those long doors. And, for a sports car, it makes sense. As the guy from the garage put it, a joint development of Toyota and Subaru has good genes. Like any modern car, I just have to keep it serviced properly (I have read about Soobies). But the $64 question is: is it fun to drive? Definitely!

What else happened today? We had our plumber install a towel rail in the ensuite; initially upside down. (He came back and put it in the right way up.) And we had a new bed delivered. This seems enormous, although it is the same size as the last one. However, it is at least 10 centimetres taller. Thank goodness the sheets fit it! A new bed tends to set off a frenzy of vacuuming; all the dust balls lurking under the old base are fairly unattractive. This delivery was no exception. However, the guys were very careful to only move it in the plastic, so no grubby handmarks on mattress or base. I gave them a couple of chocolate brownies in appreciation.

The chemo seems to be going OK. I get awfully tired if I overdo things. Apart from that, I feel fine. Looking forward to a less crazy day tomorrow; I might be able to get some cooking done, and even get out in the garden. The new wheels should be visiting Burwood later this week.