If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram you might have noticed that we didn’t make Scotland. Indeed we only made it as far as Wallesey (to see C’s godmother) and then headed south, back home. C had been complaining of soreness ‘down below’ – a perennial issue – and, after a pretty hectic time with my mum and everything else, and a long trip to Wells to attend the funeral of the husband or her matron when she was a housemistress on the Friday, a combination of the stop/start of Doris, Scotland with the midges (we normally go at Easter when it’s Scottish RAF free) and the constant pain just did for her.
Pain is, well, a pain. It can be debilitating. C’s waiting for a gynae appointment … and whilst she normally manages as it (and other afflictions down south fade in and out), the whole thing came to a head. In short she broke a little … the manifestation of how she was was her lying on Doris’s floor trying to abate everything, as I drove away from Liverpool trying to decide whether to turn left or right when we hit the M6. In the end it was an easy choice. Doris is fab when you’re both on par. It becomes a small white box when the alternative is our lovely, comfortable new house. Things didn’t improve for a couple of days. She essentially shut down, managing basic tasks – including walking with me. But she slept a lot. We spoke to the surgery and we now wait a call with the doctor on Thursday.
There are two issues: physical (tiredness, coldness and soreness); and mental – mostly anxiety, brain fog and need to keep away from folk. It is fair to say that she has got much better, and we’ve a couple of really good days – we did a carboot and she ran yesterday, and we had a day out to Slimbridge today. Indeed, we may be over the worst. But she can’t live with phasing pain, a foggy head and an anxious nature. And it would be helpful to know if one is feeding off the other; or vice versa … but with our Jen we know how complicated the brain is. The good news is we’re already talking about taking Henry away in Doris in the summer. Then Spain in September (no midges). Oh, and as part of the selling work I’m doing here, we’re taking a trip to Paington tomorrow to drop some kit off.
A day by the seaside. Hurrah! The brain’s a funny old thing, isn’t it?In amongst all this I’ve sold some more stuff.
And, a big hurrah, I eventually fixed my bike. You’ll remember that I changed both of our chains. C’s bike worked perfectly first time. Mine was rubbish, jumping links constantly. I tried three different chains (spent £40), but to no avail. Frustrated at my incompetence, I phoned the local bike shop who, in the end fortunately, couldn’t take her in anytime soon. I then contacted a mobile ‘bicycle repair man’ (remember the Monty Python sketch?). He popped round and thought the issue was possibly the need for a new rear sprocket, but couldn’t take the bike away.
So, I manfully removed the rear sprocket (which, with hub gears, is more complex than it sounds) and ordered a new one. It took me almost two hours to fit it … and, hey presto, she was absolutely perfect – until you put power on. It was then clear the chain was sticking on the Panasonic motor’s drive socket, something you couldn’t see before because the rear sprocket was also sticking. My first thought was to buy a new sprocket (an easy replacement of just removing the chain and a single circlip), but then I thought I’d just turn the sprocket around as it would only be worn on one side?
Yay! That worked.Lesson?
Replacing a chain might conflict with your old sprockets. A new chain will, quite possibly, not like the old sprockets as they’ve worn with the old chain. You may have to do both.
Anyhow, all done now.And, thankfully, Mrs Sun is with us for the week. More selling, I feel. And more helping C improve. Easy to do that here.