After the excitement of yesterday, it’s been very quiet at home today. It’s always quiet when the ol’ man isn’t here – he always generates such an energy and buzz that it’s impossible not to be swept up with it. On my own with Mum is a different story altogether of course. But it’s been OK.
Difficult to know exactly what has been happening in the hospital with John though, as I am not there. But I do know that he has had umpteen medics popping in and out of his room to listen to his chest; take blood, blood pressure and oxygen levels; provide drugs or top-up drips; or have another listen to his chest; and to instruct him on using the oxygen tanks, that he’s to cart around everywhere with him for the time being.
He tells me that he thinks that because it is a teaching hospital, he is a ‘project’ for one of the student doctors. At Heartlands, he’s always been an ‘interesting case’ and I think his reputation has preceded him all the way to University Hospital Coventry, too. And, well, for those of us who know and love him, we’ve always thought he be an interesting case……
Naturally, he’s a bit fed up. Obviously, it’s because he’s feeling poorly, but also because he’s in a very different hospital and he’s not sure of the ‘routine’. What time will they wake him up, or administer drugs, or give him his meals – and, more importantly, will he get a night-time cuppa and a biscuit??
I think it was such a long day for him yesterday, that he’s a bit confused about what day of the week it is, when he went into hospital, who said what when – and was that today or yesterday? So that’s not making him feel better about himself either!! Fingers crossed he’ll feel better tomorrow after today’s interventions and a night’s sleep.
As always when John isn’t around, I’m a bit like a puppet with its strings cut. So, this morning, I wafted around, not quite knowing what to do first. In the end, the doorbell rang and that moved me on. The delivery was another pair of ‘wheels’ for John’s ‘car-in-the-garage‘. The ‘wheels’ are little trolleys to put the car onto so that we can manoeuvre it without having to start the engine. I’m looking forward to that!!
The delivery chap (thinking he was helpful, no doubt) dumped the parcel slap bang in front of the hallway door inside the porch. There’d be no getting in or out of the front, any time soon, without moving the parcel. It was quite heavy. So, I took it a little ‘walk’ and the pair of us toddled to the garage, nay, to the ‘car-in-the-garage‘, ready for the waltz with the wheels sometime next week.
While I was in the vicinity of the garage, I took the opportunity to put my own car back on to trickle charge. After that, I was off and running for the rest of the day.
First job? Get the weed killer out and have a go at the pesky bindweed. The only trouble was, it was very, very hot just then. The sun was beating down on my back and little beads of sweat were forming on my brow – most unladylike. Phew….puff…. sigh….. stop. Get a glass of water. Sit down for a bit. Puff….sigh…. a bit more. Prevaricate. Try to extricate the mint from the bindweed. Watch out… don’t get the weed killer on the mint! And, as for trying to unravel the bloomin’ stuff from the jasmine….. well, it was at that point I gave up. Another go tomorrow??
I had managed to persuade Mum to sit outside while I tackled the bindweed, and she provided a great running commentary which, for once, I heeded. “Anne, you’re working too hard. Stop and have a bit of a rest.” Oh, OK then….. “Anne, I do think you should stop and have a cup of tea.” Oh, what a good idea!! And so on….
Right now, I can’t decide whether the bindweed is doomed and will get its comeuppance with the weed killer soon, or whether we are doomed, and it will gleefully thumb its nose at us for ever more. I think it might be the latter, if I’m honest……ah, well, it does have very pretty flowers.
And so the day went on, much in the same vein, me pottering in the garden, Mum providing a running commentary, “You need a bit more soil just here….” until she’d had enough and it really was too hot and she had to go in, just in time to watch Tenable, Tipping Point and The Chase. I ploughed on, trying to clear a bit here and do a bit there. It was nice, but oh, so quiet.
In between times, I spoke to John and other family and friends, oohed and ahhed at images of the grandchildren, laughed out loud at the picture of poo that Michael sent – Chester’s ‘mud kitchen’ feast of yesterday now deposited on the kitchen floor – oh dear, sorry to have laughed. I think I must be verging on the hysterical.
But all of it helped keep me going. And then this evening, after applauding our brilliant NHS and care workers, I zoomed upstairs to chat to my lovely girls from college. The more we ‘Zoom’ the better it is, and this evening was gently wonderful. Love them all.
The virus, though, is still high on my ‘alert’ radar and I understand that the rise in figures the other day that I was fretting about was because of the weekend reporting. However, I am beyond words regarding it all. We do seem to be a country in crisis now, although I accept that hindsight may paint a different picture in months and years to come.
Just for the record though, official figures today: 2,615 people infected in hospitals; 251 people have died in hospitals; and 338 people have died in all settings, as of 5 o’clock yesterday. The NHS figures: 44 people have died in hospitals, with 73 having been confirmed yesterday (19 May 2020).
If you are so inclined, please hold us in your thoughts and prayers – John and I both need a bit of a cradle just now.