Month: May 2020

Chocolate!! The great comforter of all things. Confused by the advice of the government? Stay in and eat chocolate. Anxious about your husband’s health? Stay in and eat chocolate. Suffering from lockdown syndrome? Stay in and eat chocolate.

What great advice and, courtesy of dear Margaret and her hubby, Chris, who called on me today to drop in a bar of Cadbury’s fruit and nut, that’s exactly what I am going to do!!

I was so thrilled to get an unexpected knock on the door and see two lovely, smiling faces standing there with such a gift. I was so grateful and overwhelmed and all I could do was stutter a big thank you. Oh, and we had a virtual hug which was nice, too!!! Made my day. Thank you Margaret.

It’s been a day of grateful thanks to many, many people today.

Firstly, we have been (well, as always) grateful to the medics for their attention to detail, carefulness and reassurances in treating John. First nurse of the day reassured us that the horrible mess on John’s arm was still OK for one more infusion – and don’t worry, Joy is coming at lunchtime. Joy is the IV nurse on whom everyone seems to rely. Joy duly arrived at lunchtime and promptly and efficiently sorted the situation. New line in, old line out – bish, bash, bosh!! She returned again this evening and inspected thoroughly, administered the antibiotic and left with a reassuring wave and smile – all will be well. Thank you medical team.

Secondly, every time I have a problem on the computer, I panic. Did I click on something to introduce a virus? Is this a phishing email? Should I put my password in when it asks for it unprompted? And every time, without fail, my dearest friend, George, comes to the rescue. As he did today. And I confessed to him that I was getting less confident with the darned thing as time went on. With the wisdom he has demonstrated over and over again in all the years I have known him, he said, “It’s cabin fever. You’re just suffering from being indoors.” Well, yes, that makes complete sense. Thank you George.

Thirdly, friends and family have offered tremendous support across the e-connections. In particular, Lizzie, with soft words of understanding and advice about my Mum; Michael, echoing Lizzie’s sentiments; church friends offering prayers for better times ahead, with Dawn’s words equally resonating; and Carol, sympathising with us. Thank you, all of you.

In addition to all of that – as if my cup doesn’t runneth over enough – I was blessed with an hour’s chat on Zoom with Meg (or Michelle to me) and delighted in that easy conversation of old friends; and the dishwasher behaving itself all day – I think it was frightened into submission by the thought of us following Malcolm’s very practical advice to put a hand into its bowels to see if there’s blockage!

The other members of the household, too, have had a relatively good day today.

Mum got herself up, dressed herself before going downstairs, and got her breakfast pretty much all unprompted. She then took herself a little walk round the house to be out of earshot of the music on the radio, which was tinkering with her hearing aids adversely, and happily ate our slightly unusual food at lunchtime. Even more exciting was the fact that she sat in the kitchen with me as I prepared the Chapman Family Traditional Hotpot, and she instructed me from beginning to end. Then, while we waited for it to cook, we played a hand of cards which she thoroughly enjoyed.

John was also slightly better today and felt well enough to tackle the curtain rail in the lounge which had fallen off its perch. Mum always closes the curtains for us every evening and had had a horrible shock on Saturday evening when it fell down from a great height. Although I had had a little go at mending it, I didn’t have the time or patience just then, so it had lain limp for over 24 hours, looking a bit like we felt yesterday, very weary. Anyway, the ol’ man got up on the step-stool armed with his trusty electric screwdriver and set about pinning it together – forever – we hope. It certainly withstood Mum pulling on the cords to close it this evening, so fingers crossed it holds!!

Later on in the day, John managed a good few laps of the garden to try and exercise his lungs a bit, so things are beginning to look up. The power of prayer? I like to think so.

So prayers for every single one of us who feels like the latest advice from government has offered mixed messages and left us confused. These Sleaths are not confused because we are continuing to stay put, but….. who knows how the general public is going to respond??

Let us pray that whatever they do, it doesn’t bring a second wave of the virus. Still too many are being infected – 3,877 on the government website – and too many are dying – 289 in hospitals and 210 in all settings. Figures we believe may not show the full picture, and so everyone still needs to take the greatest care when out and about.

Mask anyone?

Well, a better day today – except that the dishwasher is on the blink. For some reason, it is objecting to emptying out the mucky water at the end of the cycle. We haven’t had the thing that long, but it seems to me that manufacturers are now building obsolescence into their products and nothing lasts as long as you expect it to. I’ve given it a Paddington Bear hard stare, just as I did to the cat-trespassser the other day, and I’ve given it a talking to, so we’ll see what happens next. Watch this space for the next instalment on the dishwasher, folks.

And, probably, at this point, you might find that that story is as interesting as it gets today……… oh, wait! There’s excitement at the end of the day!! Wait for it…….

We have done nothing very much at all throughout the day. John was so exhausted after yesterday’s escapades that, after he’d had his early morning dose of antibiotics (which behaved), he went back to bed and slept all morning. I ‘went to church’ and was uplifted by the wonderful piece currently doing the rounds called ‘The UK Blessing’. Actually, this piece is international, with its origin in the USA, where choirs have rendered it there, as well as in South Africa so far, that I know of.

The link is here for your delectation if you haven’t heard it. I recommend that you watch it on a big screen if you can and turn the volume up!

After church, I spent a good hour making up John’s tablets which Mum said looked ‘very pretty’ as she wandered into the kitchen and hung about in the middle of it, wondering what to do next, bless her. I was thrilled to see she had got herself up, but really, she has again been a bit dopey today, not sure where anything is or forgetting what she is doing. I think the weekly effort of a ‘wash and brush up’ takes its toll for a day or two, so am hoping it’s that and nothing else.

So, she’s been fairly happy to sit in the lounge and watch whatever we’ve had on TV. I suggested she might like to come to bed a bit earlier (it would help me…….) so that her sleep pattern is improved. At the time, she thought it quite a good idea, but come this evening when I suggested she might start her move upstairs at 10.00, I was met with incredulity that I’d had the audacity to suggest such a thing! I gently reminded her that we’d talked about her coming to bed a bit earlier, but she was set that she wasn’t going just yet. “I’ll go up about half past ten,” she said, which made me laugh, “That’s the time you normally start going up, Mum!” She looked startled, “Is it?” she replied. Ah well, never mind…..

As uneventful as the day has been, in which we have generally relaxed a bit, John has begun to feel the futility of it all again, and there have been several moments when he’s muttered, “What’s it all about?” or, “What’s the point?”. A reaction, no doubt, to the troubles of the last ten days or so, when he’d been feeling so much better in the weeks beforehand, and it’s another uphill fight to be fit(ter) both physically and mentally.

All I feel I can do is maintain the pilot fish approach of hovering (and sometimes hoovering!) around him and my Mum, cleaning, tidying, feeding/watering and nurturing, and praying that things will look up soon.

Mid-afternoon meds went well with nothing untoward reported and we began to relax a bit. And, despite his fatigue, John tidied the kitchen, which I’d left a mess again – I really don’t know how to cook without leaving a trail behind me – and kept me company while I prepped the evening meal. A meal which we thoroughly enjoyed, of roast lamb, mint sauce and all the trimmings. Mum struggled with the meat. She is struggling to cut up her food now and everything has to be soft. I thought the meat was soft – it was just right for us – but not soft enough to cut through and chew for Mum. Another: Ah, well…….

The evening passed uneventfully, and I thought I’d write early this evening so that I could go to bed a little bit earlier. But hang on a minute…… I hadn’t reckoned on the ‘Sleath factor’ where just as things are going swimmingly there’s a spanner in the works.

Late shift nurses arrived and took one look at John’s arm where the cannula is and decided it was a bit iffy. Our hearts sank. Oh, no….. not again……

This was nurse number one from yesterday, who has yet to gain more experience in fitting cannulas after returning to work from maternity leave. She flushed the line through and it was OK. But she was concerned about the redness of the vein, suggesting it might be phlebitis. She thought she ought to perhaps leave it and ask another nurse from the overnight team to come and re-cannulate. She phoned a senior colleague who thought it would be OK to continue, without seeing it for herself but going on the description provided.

So, she continued but we have clear instructions that if there is any pain whatsoever in the night, we have to phone them up. Fingers crossed it’ll be OK until tomorrow. Honestly, you can’t make it up!! And if you did, no-one would believe you!!

I suppose, in a way, it’s a bit like the current situation with the virus – there are people who don’t believe that there is one and certainly not people being ill or dying. They are thinking it’s all made up and a conspiracy. Well, it’s one helluva conspiracy if it is…..with today’s official figures of 3,923 infectees and 269 deaths as at 9 o’clock this morning.

Keep safe everyone……or should I say, stay alert???….and peace be with you all.

The day has run away with us today at times, then stalled a bit, then run away again. Mostly feeling like it was hurtling downhill with no way of stopping it. But we’ve slowed as bedtime beckons and we’re (hopefully) now pulling into a siding for a breather. Are you ready (and got time for) for the ride?

It’s always an early start now as the nurses arrive to administer John’s antibiotics at 7 o’clock in the morning. This morning, though, John was up to dealing with it all himself, so I stayed in bed, drinking tea until about a quarter past seven. I got up and planned to spend a few minutes doing ‘Mindfulness’ meditation before settling down to a bit of yoga. I’d just started when John rang me from downstairs. Oh, blimey! What now? It turned out that the District Nurse (medic number one) wasn’t able to deliver the antibiotic because there was/is a kink in the line in John’s arm – and she didn’t feel competent to insert another canula as it’d been two years since she’d done one, having been on maternity leave.

What should we do? She made some frantic phone calls. There was no-one on duty with the competence to insert a cannula at that time in the morning. Best bet? Let’s get a non-emergency ambulance crew to come along and do the job. OK then, we’ll wait.

A ‘nee-naw’ turned up, paramedics pounding down the path, just at the same time as Malcolm was dropping off a spot of shopping – can’t stop to talk…… “What’s your problem, then?” they (medics numbers two and three) kindly asked. We explained. “Oh. We thought we were taking you down to Warwick Hospital.” Oooh, no…. don’t want to be trundled off to hospital if we can help it, thank you very much. “Well, we’ve never had a request like this before. Don’t think we can fit a cannula and just leave – that’s not what we do.” They checked with their seniors who looked in the rulebook. No, that’s not what they do, and they can’t leave the premises having left a cannula behind in someone’s body. And, anyway, they are an emergency crew – is there any such thing as a non-emergency crew, they wondered?

Ah……what shall we do now then? More frantic phone calls. The ambulance crew could take John to Warwick A&E and they’ll fit the cannular there? We weren’t keen. “Anne, you could take John to Heartlands A&E and they’ll fit a cannular there?” We weren’t awfully keen on that option either but, if necessary….. Still more phone calls, and they finally plumped on the option of them fitting the cannula, another District Nurse (medic number four) turning up to administer the antibiotic, and then the ambulance crew removing the cannula before they left. No leaving cannulas in anybody’s body at home by an ambulance crew.

It was a hectic morning, and we were both still in our jammies underneath our clothes. We decided against getting dressed just yet and sat out in the garden to soak up the sunshine and try and breath in some peace and quiet. We did do just that, the only interlude being a delightful ‘virtual picnic’ with Freddie and dear Paul. Oh, what a pleasure, that was. Freddie is getting more and more charming on the phone as his little piping voice tells me what he’s doing. A bit of a life raft in an otherwise choppy sea this morning.

John rested a bit while I sorted out Mum’s weekly ‘big wash and brush up’, which always takes a while because of setting her hair. But she was a bit confused today and struggled to think where the bathroom was. No sooner had I finished sorting Mum out than it was lunchtime and food prep was needed.

Lunch was a very pleasant affair, and John and I enjoyed sitting outside together. Mum, meanwhile, had gone upstairs to get a cardigan because she thought it would be cold. We had finished our lunch and I was wondering where Mum had got to, so went on a hunt. She was in the loo – ahhh, OK. But when she came downstairs again ten minutes later, she was minus cardigan. Clearly, she’d got upstairs and wasn’t sure why she was there!!

At about two o’clock another District Nurse (medic number five) arrived – this time a competent cannular fitter. So now John has two lines in…..

At about three-thirty another District Nurse (medic number four again….) arrived, just at the same time as the specialist groceries from Ocado – over which she had to step to get into and out of the house. She administered the antibiotic. All good this time. Phew.

A little bit of rest for John, then tea-time, after which he was still exhausted and went to bed. Mum hadn’t helped – nearly having a ‘turn’ at the tea table, which went off quickly, fortunately, but she decided she didn’t like lasagne after all…… I think, in what had been a long day so far, that was the last straw and John thought to absent himself for a while in case he said something he might regret.

Anyway, the evening District Nurses arrived just before 10 o’clock (medics six and seven) and busied themselves getting ready for the infusion – only to find that the cannula couldn’t. A great balloon of fluid manifested itself in John’s arm and so that attempt had to be abandoned. No worries, the nurse said cheerfully we’ll find another vein. Ha! Ha! If only John’s veins weren’t shot, we thought. Attempt number two: another ballooning of fluid. Eeeeeh, dear. Finally, and fortunately, attempt number three seemed to be successful and he is now pumped full of antibiotics. Whether the cannula will behave tomorrow we’ll see, But, it’s been one hell of a ride today.

Obviously, though, our ride has not been as bad as those who have contracted and been hospitalised with COVID-19 (3,896 infected as at 9a.m. this morning according to the official figures) or who have died (346), but we’d rather not have another day like today tomorrow please. We are ‘Cannula-nackered’.

God bless.

P.S. I never did get to do my ‘Mindfulness’ meditation or yoga – maybe tomorrow? Please?

We have switched off our functioning brains and set them to idle. With astonishing frequency, one or other of us in the household fails to compute what another has said. May have heard it, but not processed it. Sometimes, it causes us all great hilarity and we are amused at ourselves, and sometimes it causes a little irritation because, of course, the person who spoke can’t believe that the importance of their words could have been so overlooked.

I am putting my own malaise of brain-idling down to lack of chocolate. The shops are bare. “Can you order me a large bar of Cadbury’s fruit and nut chocolate, please.” I glibly asked John as he did the Ocado order yesterday, not realising the horror that was about to be revealed. They are out of stock!!

An hour later, Jane, next door, texted to say she was going shopping today and did I want anything? Yes!! Chocolate!! And the gods smiled on me because mid-morning today, what should be posted through the letter box? A large bar of Cadbury’s fruit and nut chocolate……mmmmm…..mmmm…..

I was galvanised by the thought of eating chocolate later on today, and therefore spurred on to prep for the VE day celebrations, climbing the mountain up to the loft to liberate the bunting. We planned to decorate our house with it and offer some to a couple of neighbours. Excitedly, I took first one bundle, then another, then another – only to find that, inexplicably, whilst in the loft and all by itself doing nothing, it had got all tangled up. So we spent a good deal of time fiddling about with bits of string, pieces of card and broken holes before finally putting a great swathe of it from the front door to the gate and back again, and then dropping the spare, untangled bundles in to the neighbours.

It wasn’t exactly red, white and blue – more pink, white and turquoise, with a bit of yellow thrown in for luck – but I liked it and I thought it had a festive feel to it. Coupled with the little table and chairs we’d set out on the drive, laid with the best gold china, a cake stand laden with goodies, and a couple of teapots each filled with tea and coffee, it felt good to be out in the warm sunshine among friendly faces. We spent a blissful couple of hours out there, catching up on the local news, and hailing people as they walked by – each of us, ultra-cautious, backing off until we were probably ten feet away from each other rather than the recommended six.

We retired into the house (which is currently trailing an acrid, smoky smell) to watch Katherine Jenkins on YouTube, singing her tribute to VE Day in an empty Albert Hall. I found it very poignant and it gave me food for thought.

But back to the house. Despite the windows and doors being open all day, the smoky smell has not gone away since the lunchtime burning of the toast. Quite hilarious really. I was getting the lunch ready and John was sous chef. He’d dropped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster for Mum but wasn’t satisfied that they were golden enough, so popped them back in again. In the meantime, the doorbell rang, and I spent a few minutes chatting to one of the women from church when, all of a sudden, I could smell burning, the smoke alarm was going off and all hell was let loose!! Heaven knows what the toaster thought it was doing, but it certainly didn’t pop up when the toast reached a certain temperature. I think the toast was actually on fire as John pulled it from the toaster and plopped it into the sink. Lunch will be delayed by a few minutes, Mum…..

It was a good day. Mum joined in with whatever we were doing, John didn’t feel too bad and had a good old chinwag with the locals and I felt content that we had ‘normalised’ a little bit. Naturally, being a worry-guts, I am now wondering if we did the right thing sitting outside and hoping we didn’t get too near to anybody, after I overheard the next-but-one neighbour telling my next door neighbour, just before we said goodbye for the evening, that her husband was in bed with a temperature and he probably has (formally un-diagnosed) the virus. Whaaaat??? You’re telling me this now? Eeeesh……

Ah, well, too late to do anything about it now.

Take care everyone – one slip-up could make us one of the statistics with yesterday’s official figures, as at 9 a.m. this morning, being 4,649 infectees and 626 dead. Still sobering numbers.

Another early start this morning, up at 6.30 a.m. anticipating the arrival of the nurse at 7.00 who didn’t actually arrive until nearly an hour later. I phoned to see where she was, but she was on her way. After the antibiotic infusion, John went back to bed for a good rest as he’d been up for two and a half hours by the time the nurse left and hadn’t slept awfully well the night before.

I decided to stay up and get on with those little bits and pieces that have been niggling away at me on my ‘to do’ list. Nothing major, but things like sorting the computer out (thanks George); cleaning the fridge out; filling up its water container so that John has cool, fresh water; mopping the utility room floor; painting the windowsills in the porch and so on.

Mundane stuff but made all the more exciting by little interludes of cat/John/Mum fun as I worked. First of all, I was just sitting nicely eating my breakfast when in charged Shadow. He fairly knocked the back door down trying to get in through the cat flap and then hurtled into the middle of the kitchen, clearly fearing for his life. I looked out of the window where I saw, sitting just outside the cat flap, another cat and recent stranger to our garden. Shadow wasn’t going to defend his territory by the looks of it. Unlike Rio last night, who had encountered the very same cat and spent a good half an hour yowling at it. One look at me though, and the visitor turned tail and ran. I had given him a Paddington-style hard stare.

Mid-morning, and it was time to winkle Mum out of bed. She wasn’t quite so reluctant to get out of bed this morning but, by the time she had got dressed, made her bed and come downstairs, it was lunchtime. Oh, the dilemma of ‘Shall I have breakfast, or shall I have lunch?’ She plumped on having her lunch – a spot of cheese on toast. Then, “Would you like a yoghurt for afters, Mum? Or one of your cakes?” Cake. It’s always cake.

After lunch it was a trip to the barbers in the kitchen. Didn’t really notice before he went into hospital that John’s hair needed a tidy-up, but when he came out, we did. So we got the pudding bowl out and off we went. Doesn’t look too bad though, even if I say it myself.

As the sun was shining and the garden beckoned, John took his new haircut and me out into the garden, where we sat on the patio bench, chit-chatting. It was lovely. It is a particular delight to me to just ‘be’ together. No agenda, no pushing to get the next thing done, no disagreement.

But there are always things to be done, aren’t there? And today was no different. While I considered digging out the compost heap to mulch round the buddleia, John did the specialist shopping as he’d managed to get a slot on the Ocado run.

I say ‘I considered’ digging the compost out but it took me a while to actually do it….. Mum was pacing in the house and looking like she needed something more than being sat in front of the TV, so I invited her out for a walk in the garden. While she was getting ready, I studied the pond – the irises, growing so big; the chickweed floating on the top; the fish: lots of black ones, a gold one, a white one and a black-and-gold one; and a newt…….. whaaaat? A NEWT!! Oh, I was very excited to see that! So excited that I had to hotfoot it upstairs to tell John immediately.

After her walk round the garden Mum and I sat on the very same bench that John and I had sat on earlier. She was happy and contented to be sitting there, and she was lucid, too, so we had a lovely time just being companionable. I mentioned to her that I was planning an assault on the compost heap and she suggested I do it while she sat and watched, so I did. Second excitement of the afternoon: you should see my compost! It’s beautiful, top quality and would win prizes, I’m sure!!

And so, to the evening – applause at 8 o’clock for the NHS and key workers, and a bit of a chat with the neighbours about whether anyone was bothering to have a picnic in their garden tomorrow afternoon for VE Day. Consensus was ‘no’ initially, but two or three thought they might if others were, so we’ll have a little go at something about four o’clock, with bunting and fizz. Any excuse for a party – even if it is socially distanced.

After the ‘clap for the NHS’ moment, I zoomed upstairs to catch up with the college crew on Zoom (see what I did there? Subtle wasn’t it?) and spent a very pleasant hour or so looking at lovely faces and talking to lovely people. Same time, same place next week, girls?

Let’s hope so. With the news that one of our former GPs, Dr Vallet, has died from COVID-19, you just never know. With 539 deaths as of 9 a.m. this morning and 5,614 people infected, there is still a lot of virus floating around. Do take care everyone.

No drama today. Just a little bit of nostalgia and melancholia.

It was an early start, welcoming in one of the community nurses first thing, who dealt quickly and efficiently with administering John’s antibiotics. As it was such an early start, it felt a little bit odd throughout the day and neither of us felt quite settled. John was at sixes and sevens because he was home and should be getting on. I was at sixes and sevens because he was home and I did get on with a few jobs, but really wanted to just spend time chatting or sitting with the ol’ man.

For the most part though, that’s what we did. It was such a glorious day, weather-wise, that we spent a good portion of it the garden. We had a lovely lunch, and a cheeky glass of white wine, at the table and chairs in the middle of the lawn, then had a little wander round the garden – me plucking at weeds, here and there; John doing laps of the garden to ‘get fit’; and Mum, telling us that it was too cold or too hot or too bright or too windy, depending on how the mood took her at any one moment in time.

But we did have the most enjoyable half hour or so this afternoon, all together – John sitting on my parents’ bench, and Mum and me sitting on the swinging chair in the blazing hot sun, our faces and eyes shielded by our summer hats – listening to the quiet of our surroundings and the birds singing and the chimes tinkling as the breeze caught them.

And for John and me particularly, we took the time to look back at the house and thrill at the achievement of the building itself, much of which John has created from scratch over the years; and then we reminisced over the boys growing up in it, the parties that had been held both in the house and the garden, and how the grandchildren are now making the most of it – and just the vibrancy of it all. It was lovely – albeit tinged with a little sadness as lock down continues.

So I can’t wait until the lock down is over and we can have the family round once again to run around and play up and down the stairs and in and out of the house. Harriet shared a picture of Lily and Freddie messing about in their (very large) paddling pool (I wasn’t jealous at all), and I thought I’ll do the same with our own little paddling pool when the time is right. I do love a paddle, so why not? Might draw the line at playing in the sandpit though!!

Then this evening rolled up and it was Quiz Night again with our dear Centre Stage friends. I had suggested to John that maybe we’d duck out this week, but he was keen to socialise, so we took part. Between us, I think we got about half a dozen questions right, as neither of us could really concentrate, so thank goodness for the rest of the team!! It was a fun evening, as always though, and there was at least one side-splitting occasion when at least three of us couldn’t stop giggling.

Other than that, the day was interspersed with the alarm going off on John’s phone at regular intervals to remind him to take his tablets, or have his nebuliser, or take a nap, or something, as well as the comings and goings of the nurses to check up on him and pump antibiotics into him. It was a long day for him and, quite rightly, at the end of it, he felt pretty exhausted.

And once again, I haven’t watched the news. Too busy watching one or other of the members of the household to do that, so I haven’t kept up. Suffice to say, too many people are still getting infected with COVID-19 (6,111) and too many dying (649 in all settings) according to today’s official figures.

However this comes out in the wash, however they play with the figures, however much they compare the UK to other countries, each infection and each death has an impact, not only on those friends and family members in direct contact, but on the daily lives of us all. It’s too much and I pray for the day when we can stop looking over our shoulders and stop washing everything in sight!!

God bless – stay safe and sane everyone.

Like a steam train, our day gathered pace and thundered to midnight. It started very quietly, but then gained some traction with a sprinkling of hope; which turned into to waiting; then became reality; and JOHN IS HOME!!

Albeit the delight in being home was tempered by all sorts of not-so-nice stuff, with a diversion on the way back as the A452 was closed, and then a brace of nurses which was waiting for John as we pulled up outside the house, to administer the nightly dose of intravenous antibiotics – and the news that they’d be back at 7 a.m., 2.p.m., and 9 p.m. daily for the next ten days. And not only that, he’d had a frustrating day. So, euphoria was not the first emotion he felt as he stepped over the threshold.

Being cooped up in a room on his own for six days, had John climbing the walls. And then there felt nothing worse than one of the medical team telling him they were preparing everything to send him home today, only to find that the preparations were at a snail’s pace and took nearly nine hours after the initial alert, before the release looked like a reality.

Anyway, at 8.30 this evening, I got the call, and I shot off as soon as I could to pick him up. We arrived back home just after ten and the nurses were already waiting, so we bundled into the house and into a very messy dining room, where the nurses fought their way through the bits and pieces on the table to set out their medicine stall and do their stuff. By eleven o’clock they had left, and it was time to hit the bottle and relieve all those pent-up feelings.

Whilst John had a frustrating day waiting to be let out, my day was mild and gentle until tea-time. It was like this….

As John always says, jobs aren’t always as simple as you think they are in the handyman trade and, if a customer said, “I just want….” then you knew you were in trouble. Well, I just wanted to paint the windowsill in the porch.

I had bought some chalk paint to slap onto the windowsill, minimum effort. “Give it a light rub down.” John advised. So, I got my sandpaper and rubbed. Ha! The varnished peeled off like sunburned skin, leaving a bit here but nothing there, like a patchwork. Hmmmm….. ‘OK’, I said to myself, ‘no worries, I’ll use John’s electric sander to sand it down to the wood. I think you can slap chalk paint onto bare wood.’ John’s sander is now my new favourite toy. Did the job a treat.

Then I read the instructions on the paint tin. Oh. It’s not chalk paint at all. It’s satin paint. Needs an undercoat. Grrrr…… I could hear John’s words in my head…’not as simple as you think!!’ Anyway, the job is started but not finished.

It’s not finished because I had a little break at tea-time. Well, intended to have a little break, but it turned out to be a big break because Mum had a ‘turn’. We had just sat down to eat our tea, and Mum had enjoyed a few mouthfuls when she suddenly said she’d got a pain in her chest, and she started rubbing just along the breastbone. “I think I’ve got a bit of indigestion,” she said. She started to sweat. Then the pain transferred to her lower chest and she felt breathless. Then her left arm felt funny and hot. I took her blood pressure and it was a bit high. “Are you sure it’s indigestion, Mum? Do you want to walk round the kitchen to see if it’ll ease?” She took two steps and put her hand to her chest again and said no she couldn’t manage that. I phoned NHS 111: “Feed her with four of the aspirin tablets you’ve got, crushed up, and we’ll send the paramedics.” Oh, OK.

As it turned out, of course, she was absolutely fine. Under normal circumstances they’d have whisked her off to hospital for blood tests, but with COVID 19 around……..

As the paramedics arrived about 7.15, John was phoning to tell me he didn’t know what was going on with his release as the drugs hadn’t arrived. He’d been told that they were on the porter’s trolley and the porter was working his way, numerically, round the wards; and John was on Ward 26……. my calculations were 10 minutes per ward, which meant that it’d probably be four hours later before they finally got there! And would John come home today after all?

Thank the Lord, he is home. Just got to look after him properly now……

I couldn’t wait to get him back. So much so, that I left Mum on her own while I collected him. Gave her the landline and told her to dial 999 if she felt unwell. Hoped for the best. And all was well when we got back. As if it wouldn’t be, of course!!

And, goodness me, I didn’t watch any news today and have hardly thought about the poor souls who have been infected with the Coronavirus, or died from it, as we have been wrapped up in our own drama. However, for consistencies’ sake, the figures, without the context of having listened to the briefing today, seem to read as follows: 4,406 people are infected, and 693 people have died. Someone put me right, if I’ve misread these, please?

And….breathe……peace be with you all.

A quiet day today. Mum stayed in bed all morning again and I did jobs. You can’t imagine that there’s still plenty to find to do, can you? But, honestly, there is such a lot to do in our house that I think I could be here until doomsday and still not have it all finished!!

I did get the ironing and vacuuming done though – jobs I’d been intending to do since before the weekend – and I also finished cleaning the chip pan, ready to be filled with the golden liquid Malcolm brought from Sainsburys/Tesco/Wilco today. Yippee!! I do love a portion of fat, home-made, triple-cooked chips!! Bring ’em on!!

Other than that, not a lot has gone on today really. Chats to friends and family, and two or three chats to John, who wasn’t quite with it this morning but got better as the day went on. The doctor is talking of sending him home where it is a safer environment, but we are not sure when – might be tomorrow, might be the next day. They’ve got to sort out a nebuliser to come home with him and, apparently, a three-times-a-day visit from the District Nurse to continue with the intravenous antibiotics. We’ll see.

John is, of course, bored of his own company and looking forward to coming home. To give him something to do, I suggested he might like to do some online shopping, but he wasn’t quite up for that. I don’t know how you are getting on with online shopping, but we keep ordering things, the delivery date is sometime in the future, and then, as time goes on, we’ve forgotten what we’ve ordered. So, when the front doorbell rings and a parcel is waiting for us in the porch, it’s like Christmas – excitement! What’s this? Let’s open it and see!

We play that little guessing game though beforehand, to prolong the excitement. Today’s’ offering was a small parcel, which John thought might be more screws for the Lotus. But then, he had second thoughts and suggested it might be medical supplies. Well, he was thrilled at the thought of screws. I was thrilled at the thought of medical supplies. See how compatible we are?

Anyway, John was right, it was an oximeter. I had been fretting before he went into hospital about his breathing, and then heard some good advice about measuring oxygen levels in the blood for those with COVID-19, to pre-empt a serious situation going unrecognised. So, of course, I had to have one! I am sure it’ll come in handy – along with all the other bits of equipment we’ve got here, with more arriving imminently, apparently…..

On a different note, routine has not fully established itself in our household. We still seem to lurch from one thing to the next without any real structure to the day. This includes Mum, who can’t make up her mind as to when to get up, when to eat and when to have a cup of tea. However, you could have knocked me down with a feather today when I suggested to her that we have a little walk in the garden, to which she replied, “Yes, that will be lovely. I’ve been thinking that I haven’t had my walk yet today.” Crikey! It was only just over a week ago that she was whining about the idea of such a thing! Mind you, tomorrow might be a different story…and it does depend on the weather…..

With the weather looking up for the next few days, it may be that I’ll entice Mum out in the garden again, and hopefully, it’ll be good for John’s recovery to get some Vitamin D too, once he’s home.

Talking of things looking up, it seems that official figures relating to the virus are on a downward trajectory, with 3,985 people having tested positive as at 9 o’clock this morning, and 525 people having died. The downward trend is better news.

But what is news to me is that several people in the village have died of it. Being isolated, I hadn’t realised it was in the village itself, until I chatted to one of the ladies from church on Sunday, who has had it. Crumbs. I thought it hadn’t reached our backdoor yet. Just shows.

Peace be with you all.

When you’re busy doing nothing, where do you start to describe your day? It feels like I’ve done nothing but swan about, tinker at things and walk through treacle today. In fact, I am so tired, that I didn’t even hear John’s message ping in this morning at 6.40 a.m. as I was dead to the world! Didn’t surface until the Sunday-alarm (as opposed to the weekday-alarm) went off at 8 o’clock. Oh, dear.

It was treacle, really, from the minute I got up. Everything at half-pace. I said to John, as we chatted on WhatsApp, “I can’t think why I am so tired?” He just gave me a look – you know the sort of thing he does….. hmmm…maybe I do know why I am tired!

Anyway, the day started well, yawning my way through a chat to John (who was not feeling too bad but couldn’t remember whether he’d had his antibiotics this morning), then off to ‘church’ for which I had done the reading this week – much to my fear and trepidation. How crazy is that? I ought to know my capabilities by now but lock down seems to be sapping my confidence. You? Same? Or are you all still up and buzzing?

Good church service though, with Alison doing the Gospel and the sermon, which I really enjoyed. And I sang my heart out to all the hymns. Thank God Mum’s deaf and John’s in hospital!! No potential for embarrassment there!!

A few e-chats with friends and family, before another attempt to tackle the kitchen which, I think, has a mind of its own. How does it get into such a mess? Overnight, it seems to generate all sorts of stuff on the work surfaces with pots to wash, that I was sure I’d done the day before. It was the pesky chip-pan today though. The oil had become a bit of a murky mass, so I decided it was time to give it a jolly good clean-up. It seemed to take hours. And it’s not finished yet. Bits of it are still in the dishwasher and I’ve got to put it all back together tomorrow. Let’s hope I can remember which screw goes in where.

Must’ve exhausted myself with all that scrubbing of the chip pan though, because no sooner had I sat in an easy chair after lunch than I fell asleep. Mum woke me up with “Are you asleep, Anne?” Well, yes, I had dropped off but now you’ve asked, I’m awake. Pottered about a bit then, tackling the chip pan once more, before having another little sit down with a cup of tea….and fell asleep again. Woke up this time to John calling on the mobile. Yikes! I’m awake! I’m awake! Honest!

At that point, I thought perhaps a bit of fresh air would do me good, so I suggested to Mum we have a little walk round the garden. I had my eye on the outside temperature, the clouds, and whether the trees were waving about, to gauge the reaction we might get once she got outside. Temperature: 19.5 degrees. Clouds: overcast but no rain. Wind velocity: nothing much. Good. She agreed, a walk would be nice. OK – so, do you want to put your socks, shoes and coat on, Mum? Yes. I’ll just go to the loo first…..

I watched the mercury falling as I waited for Mum to get ready. 18.5 degrees. It’ll be fine. Three-quarters of an hour later, she was ready. It’s now 17.5 degrees. Silent prayer that it won’t feel too cold….. In truth, it wasn’t. We had a lovely stroll round the garden with the exact same observations and questions as we had yesterday. “Oh, what a lovely peonie!!” she exclaimed. “Yes, it’s pretty, isn’t?” I responded. “Is there just the one bud?” she asked. “No, there are a few more – look, over here.. and here.”

But it doesn’t matter that we have the same conversation, because we also have a laugh too. The laughter is usually in response to her statement, ‘I can’t remember’, because her eyes twinkle up and she looks a bit apologetic. She always starts the giggle and it makes me join in as well. She’d love to remember, but she can’t. She’d love to have a rational conversation, but it’s gone. Ah well.

After our evening meal we watched a bit of TV – more of The Chase but this time it was The Family Chase – and then I yawned my way through another chat with John. He was insistent that I go to bed earlier. Yes, boss. So, I shall try. I think he was also feeling rather tired as he looked weary this evening and couldn’t quite remember what drugs he’d had today. The days are all blurring into one for him and it’s very hard being in a room on your own with no company other than a mobile phone. It’s also very hard being this side of the mobile phone unable to run errands, hold his hand, cuddle him or interpret for him when the medics talk gobbledegook.

But we soldier on and pray for those whose lives have been disrupted forever by the virus. The figures of people who have died as at 9 o’clock this morning is 711, with 4,399 people infected. It’s still awful, but they tell me on the telly that it’s getting better. Hope so. God bless.

I quite like an early wake-up call. Especially if it’s John phoning early from the hospital for a chat, as he did yesterday. But I wasn’t prepared for this morning’s wake-up call, which was a bit of a shock. I found Mum looming over me at 7 o’clock, telling me she didn’t feel very well. This wasn’t exactly the sort of wake-up call I’d really envisaged to be honest. She had a bad tummy ache. Well, there wasn’t a lot I could do and, as there were no other symptoms, I sent her back to bed and snoozed on for a while myself, before chatting to John.

The tummy ache didn’t develop into anything more serious so, for Mum, the day passed along the lines of: snooze in the morning; drink tea; get up; drink tea; snooze after lunch; drink tea…..and so on – you get the picture. I was able to persuade her to have a little toddle in the garden though, in the warmth of the afternoon sun, which she enjoyed.

John also decided he might have a little toddle in his room today, calculating how many times round the bed he’d need to go to make up a half-marathon. However, one trip round the bed was enough to convince him that it wasn’t such a good idea after all, lung capacity being a bit thin on the ground just now.

So he opted for the ‘look after me’ stance instead and allowed the nursing staff to do whatever needed to be done to improve the situation. Including, it transpires, the delivery of jugs of water at regular intervals. “You must drink more water,” they admonished. So, doing as he’s told, he is doing just that. The only trouble is, he said, is that he’ll soon be dissolving himself with the amount he’s imbibing. A ‘John solution’ – now that has a nice ring to it!!

Talking of solutions…..with Mum being a bit ‘meh’ this morning, I offered her a couple of paracetamol. To my surprise, she said ‘yes’ so I popped into our bedroom to fetch some from the bedside cabinet. On the way, I noticed for the umpteenth time and to my irritation, that a couple shoe boxes under the chest of drawers were sticking out, so I resolved to rectify the situation. I pulled them out to rearrange them, only to reveal…….. a shiny blue bag with a label on it: ‘To my darling husband, John. Enjoy! All my love Anne.’ Oh. Ahhhhh…… erm…….very red face.

I took a photo of the bag and sent it to John. ‘What’s this?’ I asked. ‘Headlining?’ he responded. Might be…might be….

And so, after having bought a new headlining for the Lotus because we couldn’t find the one I had for him for Christmas, there we are. And there it was – in a safe place, tucked away, gift-wrapped ready for Santa to distribute. Only Santa didn’t – and now John’s got two of the wretched things. Got to look on the bright side though. As John said, ‘I’ll be able to practise on one to get it right on the other.’ Ohhh….. that’s alright then!

In other news, I wore my smug face today. After the debacle of the car not starting the other day, Malcolm asked if we’d like to borrow his trickle charger to keep the battery topped up whilst the car stands on the drive. Yes, please. He brought it round this afternoon and gave me precise instructions on how to fit it. Normally, I can’t even find where the lever is to lift the bonnet, let alone the release button on the actual bonnet itself, so I thought it might be a challenge. But no. I followed the instructions to the letter, and hey presto!! the trickle charger is fitted, and the car will be raring to go once we get the call to collect the ol’ man from hospital.

And the day finished on a very nice note. Fran had arranged a quiz evening with John’s Uni friends (isn’t just everybody doing quizzes now?) but, because John is in hospital, it was suggested that perhaps just a catch-up would be best. Well, it was so lovely to see everyone – Pete & Fran, George & Val, Nev & Jane and Kelv & Ren. We all had a good old chinwag and even John joined in from his hospital bed all evening. Fab.

Despite the fact the John is not here, leaving me feeling a little bit adrift, today has been a very comfortable day – it being interspersed with conversations with the kids and the grand kids, friends on the doorstep and comforting words from others on email or social media.

In among the official figures we recognise individual people now – John being one of the number tested for Coronavirus. Fortunately, his test came back negative. But as at 9 o’clock this morning, 4,806 people did test positive and 621 people died. It’s horrible reading and I’m praying it will decline and desist soon.

Be vigilant and stay safe everyone.