I have no idea, beyond using a brush. Which I was doing for about ten minutes before the odor became too unpleasant or my hand became too tired. The dog with gut malignancies used to sleep on this-- it is a narrow piece of work, for a hallway, e.g.: it suits the floor of the laundry room nicely. Anyway, instead of continuing to work with the brush, I sprayed about half a bottle of rug cleaning chemicals onto the carpet and left it sitting draped over who know's what out on the deck. Sunlight and chemicals! Through which decaying deck my foot could easily break; I keep that cheerful thought in the back of my mind and continue about my business. Terce in a few minutes and then I have a video chatting appointment with Dr M. at half past. There is a second wound opened up on my right calf-- of course I cannot see it because it is, well, precisely located to prevent being seen: I have to prop my foot on the table and wrench the leg around to glimpse it. No wonder there has been that additional, odd sensation of discomfort, tsk.
The doctor initiated the video chat early, which generally speaking I would approve; in this case, though, he interrupted the Manus tuae fecerunt me, the last section of Psalm CXVIII at Terce. He is sending me to a dermatologist on the 8th to get a second opinion on the leg wounds and is ordering a new course of an antibiotic the name of which escapes me. We shall see. I asked him at the end if I had to convey some information etc from the 'orthopaedist' (who turns out to be an 'orthopaedic surgeon' cf infra) after the 8th July appointment-- I am new to this business of seeing doctors: apparently, that one is supposed to fast before blood draws is universal and common knowledge, ahem*-- and he had to think for a second, refreshing his memory, and said, 'ah, yes, about the hip surgery'. I laughed and told him that in fact he was very careful, at the appointment a month ago or whenever it was when we discussed this, to mention the possibility of surgery only amongst other alternatives. He laughed also and we moved on; either it was just a slip or else his own reading of the MRI results indicated more than he let on to me: since Dr S. will be making the decisions, I'd have done exactly what he did. If that's what he did.
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