Books by Ian Rogers
Books by Ian Rogers
Since February I have had trouble with nasty crusts and sores in my nose. Repeated visits to the GP, salt sprays and creams failed to cure it so I was sent for a CT scan of my sinuses before seeing an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist. One sinus was completely clogged and the other largely so. The infected overflow into my nose was the cause of the more obvious trouble. Antibiotics killed off the infection but gunge still failed to escape from the sinuses and drain away. Last week I had a short, sharp cold and - eureka - everything has cleared!
Some months ago my mum passed away peacefully aged 95. All the necessary rites have happened, leaving the clearing of her house pending settling of her estate. The house is about an hours drive from my home and I have been going over there roughly once a week for about 5 weeks. First there was some building work and then, yesterday, I went to fetch another car load of clothes for sorting. A cleaner met me there and, amongst other work, shampooed some carpets. We were almost ready to leave when I took the used shampooer water outside and tipped it down the drain. In my haste to climb the concrete stairs up to the front door I mis-stepped, felt sudden agony and a snap and fell over. I had broken my Achilles tendon.
Praise God for helpful friends. Once we had locked up, the cleaner took me to A & E where, over 3 hours, I was interrogated, examined, x-rayed and plastered. As a carer for my wife I couldn’t stay over as they wanted, to see the orthopaedic specialist in the morning so I left with a letter for my area hospital and instructions to attended there asap. Friends from my home church had come out to keep me company, then the wife drove me home in her car while the husband followed on in mine. A three hour round trip for them. Today another good friend took me to local A & E and waited about for a whole morning while I was de-plastered, quizzed, had a CT scan (yes, the tendon was completely snapped), saw a specialist and a got nice, new, blue plaster-caste. In my rush to go out first thing I had forgotten my wallet so my friend bought coffee and biscuits for us as well as paying for the car park. He refused any payment when he delivered me home.
While the cold had a silver lining, was there one after breaking my tendon? As a carer for my wife, I often feel restricted and as if I am living ‘with the handbrake on’. Sometimes when I get my teeth into things, I really get on the go, often to meet a completely arbitrary target. ‘I will cut all the grass before dusk’; ‘I need to fix that downpipe - oh well, I might as well clear out the gutters too.’ Recently our household helper said to me: “Stop rushing about, Ian. You’re making me dizzy!” Maybe the Lord, speaking through her, was telling me to slow down. Now I am going to have to slow down for 10 weeks and learn more patience!
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