Dinner and phlegm dear?

The good news is that the angiogram consultant couldn't exactly find anything wrong with Derek's heart or should I say what was causing the problems, so it appears that he might not have a heart attack as his heart and surrounding bits aren't damaged in that way after all.
All very confusing.
So now they need to find out why the blood tests registered that he had a mild one and to find out why his pulse rate is so low, so not out of the woods yet, but definitely a bit of sunshine filtering in.
Fingers crossed that whatever it is, that it's easily put right and he can carry on skippering on as many ships as he wishes and he go on to help out with the village pantomime again.
A grounded Derek does not equal a happy bunny.

My trainee physio's highlight of the day, was sadly pummelling me. He was thrilled that I was bringing up so much phlegm off my lungs and the more excited he got, the better rhythm he got when pummelling, which in turn helped me bring up the dregs out of the darkest recesses of my lungs...yeah I wish.
I do hope he didn't go home and tell his girlfriend over dinner all about what he had achieved today, comparing the thickness, the colour and the quantity that he helped out of my lungs with other patients, otherwise I can see that as one short romance!
'Oh darling, you could have hang up wallpaper with the contents of her lungs!', not quite a relaxing environment for a young couple.
It always makes my breathing so much easier after I've got over the sheer effort of it all, but blimey it gives you a headache too.
Somehow I can't get into a such a rapturous state over bringing up the contents of my lungs, but it is nice to see someone getting so much out of a training session and enjoying their job as much as him.
I will however get into a state of ecstasy when I can bend over, stretch up or even laugh out loud with out a mouthful of the green stuff coming up.
However scared I am a bedtime, I have to remember what I'm aiming for and then the dark won't so scary.

My downer of the day, was that my iron died on me.
I love ironing and had got everything ready, complete with a good programme saved ready to watch while I ironed away and zilch, the heat faded away and the iron wouldn't work again. So more money to spend out.
Bummer...at this rate, I'm going to have to go back to work before my transplant! I can't actually remember how long I've had the iron, but I think it's probably around the six year mark now, so I guess it's come to the end of it's life span. A bit like me, got a shelf life date on it!

Lots of love Debbie x