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had always wondered what the "o" was for
Clive Ooze
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Loose cleats...
HIT THE STREETS!
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Update
Spent the weekend gently ouzing into the bag stuck to my hip and feeling generally low from the antibiotics. Was driven into work by MrsO. Felt crap. Went to the hospital at lunch time for a change of dressing. Was told that I was ouzing too much for a change of dressing. Told to come back when I am only ouzing 10ml a day. Currently I'm running a magnificent 100ml.. Ten days and I'll have filled a litre carton. Fed up with the sight of my wasting legs, I walked home from work which was slow but pleasant. Sat in an armchair. Fell asleep. MrsO came in and woke me. Totally confused. I didn't recognise her. Not a good start to the evening. She forgave me and drove me in today. Put a suit on for the first time. Mistake. Major meeting: clients, QC the works. I'm chairing. Sudden feeling of wetness on my leg. Dashed out of meeting to loo to discover the cap had come off my bag pouring its contents all down my leg and over my suit trousers. Tidied up as best I could and back into meeting. Feeling exhausted.
Looks like I will be at least another week before I can have the wound properly dressed and dispense with my bag. A week or so after that, I may be back on a bike. Still on antibiotics. All i want to do is sleep.
Still, it could be worse. Saw a colleague today who has just returned to the office after seven weeks out, including all of Christmas and New Year in hospital following a charity cycle ride in India which led to virulent samonella and complications to follow. If that wasn't bad enough, he's also grown a beard.
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Dude. Feel for you man. H(heal)TFU
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I've never heard of a problem of this type that was so long-lasting, Clive--surely there must be an underlying reason why the wound just won't heal--and why, even if it did heal, there is still so much pus being produced, which would presumably fill up the inside of the buttock again?
I can hardly believe that you're already back at work--this being rather unresolved, by the sound of it?
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Oliver
My old work mate had this for over a year, 9 months ago he finally stopped going to the Drs to get his dressing changed. it's an area that doesn't heal quickly.I wouldn't want to be in your (potentially soiled) shoes Clive, that sounds terrible. It will pass, make sure you keep eating well to keep you energy levels up.
Sounds like you Mrs O is a saint. that certainly makes it easier.Heal soon man
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Blimey.
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I am thinking of starting a blog for my left buttock.
When I left hospital a week ago, I was given a spare wound drainage bag but told to report to outpatients on Monday for a dressing change. I reported as commanded to be told that I was ouzing too much and that my dressing could not be changed and that they, the outpatient department did not do wound drainage sacks. I was told to arrange to see the consultant once the ouzing had subsided for a couple of days or if it did not subside by the weekend.
By Wednesday, my drainage bag needed changing and so, with the help of MrsO, I changed it. Neither of us having any experience in the art of changing wound drainage bags we managed a decent job but not a perfect job. There was a little leakage.
On Thursday, I called to make an appointment with the consultant to be told that the first appointment I could have is next Tuesday evening. I wnet to the big Boots at Liverpool Street to try and get a new supply of drainage bags. They had not heard of them. I could not show them what one was because it is a busy shop and my bag is on my buttock. This morning my need for a new bag was urgent. I called the hospital who suggested that I go to John Bell and Croyden on Wigmore Street. I did. They did not know what I was talking about but suggested somewhere to buy a colostomy bag. I tried other pharmacies around Wigmore/Wimpole Streets and then the pharmacy at the London Clinic. No joy. I called the hospital again and headed back there in a cab. They said that the person who could help me was away but would be back in 20 minutes. I waited 40 minutes. I was becoming nervous about an important meeting that I had to attend. I went back to the nurses station and asked if I could please have some bags. They didn't know what type of bag I needed. I pulled down my trousers, there and then and showed them. Horror on faces, Five replacement bags suddenly arrived.
I went off to my meeting and then back to the office. My buttock was very swollen and dripping. I decided to go home to change the bag. Good decision. I was alone in the house. I went to the bathroom. Pulled off the old bag and started cleaning off bits of glue from that bag. Suddenly my buttock exploded again. No more swelling. Golden lymph fluid shooting all over the walls and floor in a thick stream. At that moment I heard the front door open. I called down and MrsO (bless her) came upstairs with some kitchen towel and cleaned up while I replaced the bag.
Almost 10 months since the crash.
Three weeks since the operation.
Two weeks since the infection.
A week since I got out of hospital.
And still it flows.I wish I could be writing amusing tales of cycling exploits.
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that sounds seriously funked up :S hope you get well soon!
I'm currently a twat riding with very worn cleats, especially after i got a flat half way to work this morning and decided to walk (hobble) the last mile in plastic look cleats rather than change the innertube, safe to say, theres not much left of the cleats now, another £15
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By chance I met Clive on Tuesday. I had a pick-up at a large, prestigious office block in EC3 that I vaguely remembered being the one where he worked.
Anyway, I arrived a little early and was waiting outside. The weather had picked up, the rain had moved on and the clouds were breaking so I decided to have a little wander. Soon I found myself at the rear of the building, much less salubrious, no wheeler-dealers or power brokers back there. And as I turned the corner I saw something I will never, ever forget. It was Clive, dressed in a suit that had seen better days and elbow deep in a litter bin.
I stopped dead in my tracks and what I saw next....well, you see some sad sites if you ride round this town for long enough but to see this once mighty legal Titan fish out a half eaten burger from that bin and press it to his mouth like a starving baboon.... it beggared belief. And beggar, I am sorry to have to tell you all, is the operative word.
To cut a long story short, and it took several hours and more than one bottle of Turpentine before I got to the truth, Clive has been living rough for nearly a year now. A victim of the recession but too proud, like a Japanese salaryman, to admit it, somehow, through pure dogged determination or base animal cunning, he has been able to keep up the pretense of normality to us all. Making his home in doorways and doss houses, living off what he can find or beg or, I am heartbroken to say, what he can steal, Clive has been eeking out an existence that few of us can imagine. And all the while turning up to cycling events as if nothing had changed. His only possessions are his bikes and some Lycra, the last vestiges of a once proud and prosperous life now tattered and torn. It has taken Herculean willpower for Clive to keep up this charade and is, I think, a most touching tribute to his love of cycling.
Clive has been posting from Internet cafes whenever he has been able to though when you smell quite that rancid and when you have to panhandle for every penny that is not easy. The story of the worn cleat and the consequent hospital visits has been one Clive has constructed in order to provide a convincing cover story for those times when he has - and again it is heartbreaking to report this - had to spend a night in the cells. Or those times when he has simply been too strung out on whatever industrial solvent has got him through another day on the street.
So what can we do? What, as a forum, as friends, as fellow cyclists can we do to help this fallen father-figure? I don't know, there is no easy answer. Many of you might well say, after all, he was a corporate lawyer so really, who cares? And you might well be right in your view. But surely the quality of mercy is not strained but droppeth as the gentle lymph from heaven?
If you wish to help Clive then please let me know. I am sure that together we can help restore some dignity, some hope and some purpose to his life. If you merely wish to go and poke fun at him he can be found behind the Aldgate McDonalds most mornings pissing his pants and swearing at the street sweepers.
Thankyou and goodnight
BRM
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Crispin_Glover
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Only twats ride with worn cleats
Posted by
@cliveo
I'd check ebay and gumtree if I were you Clive, sounds like she was capitalising on your absence to get rid of them.
Glad to hear you're home safe and sound. Avoid weeping on the leather, it'll be a bugger to clean.