Teriyaki chicken with vegetable and vermicelli noodle stirfry

If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, what do I need to eat to get one to come round?

As you will remember from yesterday’s post, today we were due a visit from a doctor about mum’s ongoing stomach pains.

So when my phone rang this morning, I wasn’t at all surprised that my phone showed it was the GP surgery calling. Except it wasn’t the doctor for mum, but the social prescriber calling to advise me on reducing my social isolation. I told mum I was taking a private phone call which didn’t relate to her at all, shut my bedroom door, and kept my voice low so mum wouldn’t be able to hear me unless she deliberately eavesdropped. Which she did, repeatedly calling out that she was sorry for being a burden, that she didn’t want to bother me, and so on, until the social prescriber suggested we meet for coffee to talk without interruption. He doesn’t have any space in his diary until next month, but at least I know something will be happening to help me meet people, no matter how upset mum gets at the prospect.

An hour or so later, my phone rang again, and I wasn’t at all surprised that my phone showed it was the GP surgery calling. Except it wasn’t the doctor for mum, but one of the ANPs, following up on the results of a blood test I had last month. I had already discussed the results (that my body has gone from not holding onto a particular vitamin so I was dangerously deficient, to holding onto too much so I’m dangerously overdosed) so we just agreed that I will have another blood test in December and politely said goodbye.

Judt after lunch my phone rang again third time and, once again, I wasn’t at all surprised that my phone showed it was the GP surgery calling. Except it wasn’t the doctor for mum, it was a (male) paramedic who specialises in geriatric care and spends a couple of days a week providing that specialism to our GP surgery.

I won’t go into detail about what we discussed, but I will note for the record that pain below the ribcage is epigastric pain, not stomach pain, and apparently I should have known better than to get it wrong. Silly me.

The main outcome was that a female member of medical staff will come out on Friday, as mum has symptoms in an area that she wouldn’t want a man looking at. The secondary outcome was that mum’s many pains disappeared entirely while we were talking to the paramedic, and magically reappeared once she felt she could safely complain to me again. 🙄

Dinner was teriyaki chicken – part of Tesco’s slow-cooked range, which you just decant into an oven-proof dish and reheat in the oven – with stirfried green beans (from the freezer) and mini peppers mixed with vermicelli rice noodles and a homemade sauce of some of the chicken cooking juices, soy sauce, sesame oil, and a splash of white wine vinegar to replace the lemon juice I can’t eat. (Because allergies.)

Mum didn’t seem to love the noodles – I adore the texture of vermicelli, but I can see why someone might not care for it – but enjoyed the chicken and veg. There’s enough left for me to eat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow and, unlike mum, I really will eat it, too.

Tomorrow should be a peaceful day, with nothing much happening, but we’ll see how we go. I might steer clear of eating apples, just in case.