Month: September 2023

Well, we seem to be on the mend! When I say ‘we’ I mean John, naturally. That in itself gives us both a boost.

After a little bit of a grizzly day yesterday, in which we both, in turn, indulged in a bit of growling practice, today has been much better.

John didn’t sleep brilliantly, but he felt brighter this morning and was up early enough to get a shower before Sue and Rod arrived, late morning. We weren’t sure whether to let our guests in, mind you, as there had been talk of Covid in the air. However, we opened all the windows and wore masks, just in case.

We thoroughly enjoyed the company and it was just so good to see them again. It’s been a while since we spent any time together. They didn’t stay very long though and left not long after mid-day, to make way for the next shift. George and Sue had arrived for their stint, with great plans for car tinkering. Hellos were said – ‘Nice to see you again’ and ‘When was the last time?’ before the goodbyes shortly followed.

John had a very good afternoon in the garage, even attracting a passer-by i.e. Pete Cross, who couldn’t resist coming in and tinkering with George and John as well. I was rather pleased to see them all huddled in the garage, their heads together thinking about a common problem. Lovely.

Meanwhile, after a bit of faffing about around the house with one thing and another, Sue and I watched ‘Mrs Harris goes to Paris’ and really enjoyed ourselves. Might have opened a bottle of wine, as well……

Just before tea-time, John and I took a break from our guests for half an hour while we chatted to our solicitor via a Teams Meeting. We are making our wills. We did them a few years ago but things change, don’t they? So we’re at it again.

And the big news is that there has been some movement along the alimentary canal. Whoopee-doop!! John is definitely improving – and the pain in his leg is not quite so severe, so I’m hoping that the blockage was a contributory factor and it’ll stay a bit more eased for a while now.

Hope springs eternal, eh?

Take care everyone. God bless.

Although today has been marginally better than yesterday, we are not yet the best we can be.

Neither of us slept well – must have been about 4 o’clock in the morning before I fell asleep; and John’s sleep was in fits and starts with plenty of ‘light-on/look-at-the-phone/listen-to-a-story/can-I-have-any-more-drugs-yet?’ time.

However, the ol’ man hauled himself out of bed this morning and brought me a cuppa again. We had a bit of a giggle though… it was a bit like Mrs Overall’s ‘soooup?’ situation: wobbly hands and plenty of tea on the tray. Never mind, there was still plenty of hot tea to drink, and it was lovely.

We breakfasted and then John’s MacMillan Buddy called in. He has a regular slot on a Tuesday morning now, which works really well. It’s just a chat among mates, type of thing, which John enjoys – especially as they talked about the rugby today.

We were waiting in for a phone call from the oncologist, but that was much later than we expected, so the MacMillan Buddy went home and we greeted the MacMillan Nurse, Julie, into the house in his stead before the phone call came.

Julie was very good and made a through assessment of John’s situation. As she was there when we took the phone call from the oncologist, we found it very helpful because she was able to ask some questions that we’d been struggling to get answers to.

We were also waiting in for the GP to call in. As the afternoon wore on and lunch was over and done with, I was anxiously looking at my watch. “I’m going to have to leave you to see the doctor yourself, John,” I said, “I’ve got to be at the hairdressers at 3 o’clock.” No worries! John grinned. He was morphined up by then and ready for anything. Well, that is, if he didn’t fall asleep.

It transpired that he didn’t fall asleep because he had let the doctor in while I was out, and had a rational conversation with him – even remembering the outcome of the chat when I got home! Boom! Keep taking the tablets was the advice, of course – and we’ll do another attempt at shifting the contents of the alimentary canal tomorrow.

A new symptom has emerged, however, that we are yet to get to the bottom of. John has started shaking uncontrollably every so often. Had he got a temperature wondered the medics? No? Well, if it goes over 37.2, whisk him off to hospital…… hmm, OK.

In the end, the doctor thought it was pressure on a nerve or two in his back causing the shakes, so we are to watch this space. Everyone was very interested in John’s walking, however. “Would you like the Occupational Health Nurse to come round?” asked Julie. I said yes because, although John isn’t keen for any aids as such just yet, I’m thinking it’ll be as well to get something in hand.

John felt particularly unwell this evening and took himself off to bed at six o’clock. Woke up at ten o’clock thinking it ought be daytime though, didn’t he? He! He!

Meanwhile, we continue to administer all the drugs on offer from the little pharmacy I have set up in John’s room. There’s loads of the blooming things! Can’t wait for his jolly old intestines to sort themselves out.

But look’ee here! What’s this we see? A vision of loveliness to cheer us up!! A fabulous bunch of flowers from Carol. Unexpected but very much appreciated on such a drab, and seemingly never-ending, day.

And a final note before I go: Happy 70th Birthday to dear Chris! Apparently she had a fabulous celebration with the family yesterday and there’s a video of her dancing in the street to prove it!! That’s my girl!

Take care everyone. God bless.

Gosh, it’s only two minutes since the last Monday. isn’t it? That’s what it feels like this week, anyway! Time is galloping away – and not to my pleasing, either!

The weekend was an uphill struggle for John. He is still not clear of the alimentary hindrance and no amount of coaxing and cajoling so far has done the trick. Visits from District Nurses, although they are all cheery and good fun, have nonetheless been met with an intestinal stubborn refusal.

We had a quiet day on Saturday and lived in hope – but not a lot else went on, other than watching the Rugby World Cup. On Sunday, I went to church for a change, leaving John in bed, and then when I got back, I informed him that the Kenilworth Newbies had decided to call in and bring Brunch.

Well, that was very nice and we were settling in nicely to family chaos when the doorbell rang and Linda and Bryan called in, full of great advice on how one might get things to shift. Linda had brought some sparkling water and ginger cordial. “It might help,” she said, with her fingers firmly crossed. We all crossed our fingers too. We think it might be helping a bit as John is no longer in discomfort from that particular part of his anatomy.

After Linda and Bryan had left, we finished our family Brunch and generally nattered and played with the children before the Kenilworth Newbies were on their way to Danielle’s brother’s house for a barbecue.

John, Andrew and I settled down to watch wall-to-wall rugby for the rest of the day – something we all enjoyed. As the early evening drew in, I suddenly felt under the weather. I glanced up and found that some of the TV screen was missing. Oh, bother! I lay down on the sofa with my eyes closed for a while. Nah – that didn’t help. “I think I’ll lay down on my bed for a bit,” I said, and removed myself from the lounge and the Scotland vs South Africa match.

I lay down for about half an hour, and the weird stuff in front of my eyes went off – only to be replaced by a massive headache. I came downstairs, had a couple of paracetamol, fully intending to help sort John’s medication out at bedtime, but no – by half past nine I was done for – and I missed the rest of the Wales vs Fiji match. Andrew played nanny at bedtime instead – he, he!

John was up and at ’em this morning, bringing me a cup of tea in bed. Great ideas on how he was going to spend the day and what he was going to do on the car. Alas, the plans went to dreamland. John has been woozy from his medication all day and spent most of it asleep on the sofa. He’s trying to avoid taking too much medication, but what can you do? In pain down his hip, thigh and lower leg, the prescribed dose keeps the discomfort at bay – but it doesn’t help keep the sand man away!

Let’s see what tomorrow brings – we’ve got various consultations: the oncologist, the GP and an assessment by the MacMillan Nurse – which might bring us closer to compos mentis. Hope so anyway.

Take care everyone. God bless.

What a day! It’s been ‘orrible! If you don’t like a horror story, look away now.

The lovely sunshine and the thought of spending time with George and Sue, either in the garden or tinkering with the car, before they went home, beckoned delightfully this morning. First job though, was to call the doctors’ surgery to see if the Community Nurses could call and administer a ‘special something’ to John to ease his alimentary stoppage. Seemed a simple enough task.

Ha! That was at half past eight this morning. I didn’t stop with the running about up and down the hill to the surgery and over to the pharmacy, phoning other pharmacies, phoning the surgery and answering the door to doctors and nurses until six-thirty this evening. And all that time, John was, and still is, in a poor state.

Honestly, it has felt like an obstacle course. “Oh, we don’t arrange the visits from the Community Nurses,” said the receptionist at the surgery. “You’ll have to phone them.” Oh? Okay, then. “Oh, we don’t have the product you need,” said the nurses. “You have to ask the GP for it.” Oh? Okay, then. “Phone us back when you’ve got it,” they said. Right.

At the GP surgery, they seemed nonplussed that I should be asking for help. “I’ll put a message on the system,” says the receptionist. “I’ll red-flag it.”

Then the wait began. After an hour or so, and no reply, I tried phoning the surgery. Oh, chortle, chortle – here’s a good wheeze – we won’t answer the phone. I hopped in the car and ran down to the surgery to have a conversation. “You should have flagged this to us before ten o’clock this morning,” says the receptionist. Eh? I did!!!! “Oh? Ah, well, we’ve put a message on the system. It’s red-flagged….” Please, could somebody, anybody just knock on the doctor’s surgery door and ask? “I’ll put another message on the system……”

And so it went on. And on.

We finally got the prescription about one o’clock. I phoned the Community Nurses. “We’re on,” I said, “I’m going to the chemist’s now to collect what we need.” Ha! That’s what you think!! The chemist didn’t have item in stock, did they? “We can order it for tomorrow…..” But he needs it today. “Oh….. well, you’ve missed the deadline for an order for this afternoon.” Great. Thanks.

How do you get said product then, folks? You have to phone round every chemist within a 15-mile radius. “No…. sorry, we don’t have it. Have you tried Boots/Dudley Taylor/Meadows Pharmacy, etc etc?” Yep, tried all of ’em.

Tried to phone the surgery to tell them I couldn’t get the product. They were playing that game of not answering the phone again. I hopped in the car….. The doctor finally said she’d change the prescription for another product if there was a pharmacy that had an equivalent in stock. Started phoning the pharmacies again. Lovely.

The doctor did come out to visit John – that was hilarious cos he was on the loo. The doctor stood in the bedroom talking to him through the doorway. “I would like to examine you,” she said. Poor John had to struggle from the loo to the bed for her to check him over. I wasn’t awfully impressed tbh. And it felt like she couldn’t wait to get away.

The Community Nurse also came after I’d tracked down said replacement product to a pharmacy on Banner Lane. She administered it, wrote up her paperwork and left us to it. “See you tomorrow,” she said cheerfully. Poor John didn’t feel cheerful at all. He was/is in pain so has had morphine all day, which has knocked him out. He’s as dopey as anything, bless him.

John’s regular doctor and the one on call both prescribed some laxatives for John to take. I toddled up the road to collect the prescription. Brought it home, triumphant. Then I read the leaflet. It contains potassium. The last thing the hospital doctor said to John was, “Your potassium levels are still a bit raised so no bananas, beans or nuts. We want to try and keep the potassium levels a bit lower.” Hmmm….. I wondered whether the product was suitable. I phoned the surgery. I played the game of holding on four times – ‘you are number six in the queue’ until I was number one in the queue when the line mysteriously cut off. I hopped in the car and explained to the receptionist what I was concerned about. “I’ll put a note on the system,” she said.

This time it worked and John’s regular doctor phoned us. He was a little bit contradictory – first he seemed to be saying the product would be OK and then as he talked it through it seemed he changed his mind and sent another prescription through to the pharmacy for a different stuff. I toddled up to the pharmacy again….

In between times, there have been lots of visits to the loo. “Any luck?” I would ask, and there’d be a grim face and a shake of the head. Poor John, it’s been very difficult for him. He had a minor success this evening, however, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that another go at it tomorrow might start the motions again. Oh, I do hope so. Wish us luck and send us lots of healing vibes please!!

Oh, and there’s been lots of swearing……

Take care everyone. God bless.

Wow! How nice to see the sunshine today and not to be in a hospital ward. It meant that we could enjoy the day and feel the warmth at our backs for a change!

John certainly felt the warmth at his back. He had brought the Lotus out of the garage and was tinkering away with it all morning with George, who had come to help out. I think they managed to get a few things done but John was very tired by the afternoon and went to bed for a couple of hours. George tinkered on.

Meanwhile, the other car was loaded with stuff for the tip and Paul came over to help me with that. It was lush (as much as a trip to the tip can be) in that Paul commanded me to stay in the car, open the boot and relax while he threw the stuff away. That’s the first time I’ve been to the tip when I haven’t had to work hard!!! Smashing.

We came back home and picked up Sue before travelling into Kenilworth for a mini-visit to the tip there as well, with some brash from the pond clear-out the other week. Then we toddled across to Boots for more medication for the ol’ man to try on the stubborn digestive system.

On the way back from the Kenilworth jaunt and nearly home, Paul pulled the car into The White Horse car park. Well, that felt exciting! And sure enough it was!! We sat in the garden and out came Paul with two glasses of Prosecco for me and Sue. How lovely was that? We were thrilled with the treat.

We were just gathering ourselves together to make it home when Danielle phoned wondering where we were. Darn it! She’d missed out on a pub visit…. “We’re on our way,” I said.

Danielle had come round with the two youngest children for the afternoon and that was lovely too. We got the little splash pool out and Thomas and Oliver thoroughly enjoyed themselves playing with the water and the sand pit – and generally running about the garden with not a lot on.

Sue and I continued with the Prosecco theme and enjoyed ourselves playing in the splash pool with the children too!!

Regrettably, the medication I had bought was the wrong one…… Paul undertook to have another go at buying the right thing and finally found some in a chemist’s in Leamington. However, it transpires that that hasn’t worked either, so it’s a call to the doctor’s tomorrow morning……

John got up after his snooze and joined us in the garden, in the balmy late afternoon air, to have a good old chat about progress on the car. Lovely. This is how it should be, isn’t it?

Take care everyone. God bless.

John is home at last! No matter what they said today, he was determined to leave. He stated it clearly to everyone and anyone who would listen. So they took him at his word and pulled out all the stops to get him home. We only had to wait four hours for the paperwork to be done and the medication to be sorted.

I must admit, they were pretty thorough – the pain management team and the physio people came to check on him. The palliative care team, who’d also been requested to come, had no slots today. Maybe tomorrow? ‘On your bike,’ said John, ‘I’m off! Not hanging about any longer!’ Or words to that effect, anyway.

The physio couldn’t find out much though, as John was in the loo and the conversation was held through the wooden door. “Do you have a walker, Mr Sleath?” No – as if!! “What about a stick?” Yes, got one of those and a stairlift. Happy now? The physio toddled off, satisfied.

The pain management team agreed that co-codamol was a great constipater. Not the best thing for a man with a gippy hip. “We’ll prescribe morphine and paracetamol instead,” they said, and they toddled off, also satisfied.

One of the consultants turned up to ask if John wanted be resuscitated if he should collapse. Er…. yes, please. Not quite ready to give up yet, thank you very much. “Well, I have to ask,” he said, “just to be sure of your wishes.” And he toddled off as well.

And then we waited. John slept for most of it, but dived into the loo every twenty minutes or so to see there was any movement in that department. He always came back, shaking his head. “Any luck?” I’d say. “Nope,” he’d reply. Might need to get the big guns out.

We arrived home at about 7.30 p.m. John was relieved to be home. Dived straight into the loo. “Any luck?” I said, as he emerged. He shook his head, ruefully. So I went up to the shops to see what I could buy to do the trick. I bought something that neither of us think will work, but we’ll see…..

Fun and games, isn’t it? Well, it would be if we weren’t so exhausted……

Take care everyone. God bless.

The ol’ man is still in clink. “I’m going to hang onto to you, John, until tomorrow,” smiled the lovely doctor as she delivered the bad news. “We’ll do one more check to make sure your bloods are OK; and we’ll get in touch with the pain management team to see how best to deal with the pain your hip, but we’re aiming for ‘home tomorrow’.” Oh, gosh, we have heard that a few times this week.

John groaned and slumped in the bed. I inwardly groaned and slumped a bit lower in the chair. We’re both a bit jaded. And, of course, we were both a bit irritable. It’s a big ask to be constantly cheerful and always looking on the bright side.

John had been reasonably upbeat when I arrived, as he’d had a visit from Paul this morning, in the hopes of keeping John’s spirits up. The trouble is, I suppose, one visitor followed by another is tiring. So John was fast asleep when I got there and only woke up when the lovely doctor roused him to tell him that the orthopaedic department had had a look at his x-rays and concluded that there was no pathological break in his hip or upper leg. That was good news. The pain could be related to a trapped nerve maybe.

After the initial disappointment of not coming home today, John resigned himself once more. “It’s not so bad as it used to be,” he said, “I used to be climbing the walls when I was in a side room, desperate to get out, but there’s enough going on in the ward to keep me entertained.” I have to say that, for the most part, John is a very patient patient. But he has a rather impatient spouse.

I came home at tea-time with plans to potter in the garden, or do a bit of tidying, or a bit of admin. Nope. Too knackered for anything. Sat and watched trashy, mindless TV all evening before climbing up the wooden hill.

Here’s to us feeling better tomorrow.

Take care everyone. God bless.

Crikey, today was a belter, wasn’t it? Really hot sunshine, all day. John was very jealous. We had a chat at breakfast-time, just as I was sitting outside to eat my fruit and yoghurt. “Big blue skies, then?” he marvelled. I agreed – it was a fabulous morning. “Pity I can only see concrete here though….” he grumbled. “I might be able to see a spot of sunshine later, but I can’t just now.” Hmmm…… that’s the problem with the ward he’s in. Nothing to see outside at all.

The upshot of the conversation was that he might be home today. I visited this afternoon and, by then, it was looking less likely. For a start, John had explained to the staff that he was expecting an x-ray on his leg on Wednesday afternoon. “We’ll see if we can bring that forward, shall we?” suggested the nurse and, sure enough, they did. However, it wasn’t the x-ray that kept him in. It was the result of another blood test. “Your potassium levels are still a bit high, John, so we’ll keep you in another night.”

Nevertheless, they started the process of getting him ready for home. The drip has gone; the oxygen is off; and the catheter contraption was changed for more civilised equipment. Home? Maybe tomorrow?

I came home mid-afternoon so that I could have a catch-up with the GP to set the ball rolling for some support in the long term. Andrew was home and he and Michael, who had called in to collect the spare potty for Thomas, were having a good old brotherly chat.

“Do you want me to come with you, Mum?” he asked. Yes, please. Two sets of ears are better than one. We saw Doctor Horsley – whom I’ve always thought was a bit off with me – who was actually very good and explained lots of stuff very kindly and very clearly. Spot on, in fact. “Ha!” said John when I told him, “You see? Dr Horsley is OK.”

We now have a list of things to follow up. First stop tomorrow: the consultant’s secretary to see if they can bring forward John’s appointment now that the x-ray has been done.

I went back to visit John this evening and we spent a cosy hour or so together. John’s leg wasn’t quite so painful and he was a bit more relaxed – and resigned to another night in clink.

Take care everyone. God bless.

Well, it wasn’t quite what we’d planned to do on Friday, but there we are. Another trip to hospital. We thought we’d be in and out again, but no. John is still languishing in a ward-with-no-view – unless you count the concrete wall with a few windows in it?

The day had started all so swimmingly. We were getting on with a few jobs and John was looking forward to getting a catheter change – the one he’d got was playing up. All hunky-dory then, until the change was made. The nurse arrived just after lunch, all bright and breezy, but was unable to finish the job and regrettably injured John in the process.

She called a colleague, who arrived all bright and breezy, too. It didn’t take long for her to admit defeat as well though. Neither of them were very bright and breezy after that. “I’m really sorry,” she said,” but you’ll have to go to A a& E.” Oh, great.

We were there hours, of course. The nurse at the hospital had a couple of goes at getting the catheter sorted. No luck. “We’ll have to get a doctor to try,” he pronounced, after the third unsuccessful attempt.

The doctor was successful and we thought that would be it, we’d be on our way again. We waited. And waited. John was uncomfortable. I asked if there was anywhere he could lie down. No, sorry.

Anyway, the upshot was that at ten o’clock at night, the doctor came round and said they were admitting John. His potassium levels were a bit high. We groaned. John was resigned. “You go home,” he said, “there’s no point in you staying, I’ll be going up to the ward soon.” So I came away and John got up to the ward a 12.15 in the morning. It’s nuts, isn’t it?

Each day we have thought John would be discharged. However, each day there is something else. They weren’t so worried about his potassium levels now, they were worried about his output. “You’re not drinking enough,” they said. And then today, they were worried about too much urine production. Apparently, the trauma inflicted has stimulated John’s kidneys to go into overdrive. Just got to wait for it all to calm down. Oh, and by the way, here’s a drip for you and some oxygen….. bless him, he’s plugged in at all ends! Not a happy bunny.

Mind you, I wasn’t great company myself today either. I felt exceedingly grumpy all day – and even grumpier when I got to the hospital to find John pre-occupied with the Grand Prix on his laptop. But then, I thought to myself, it’s his pleasure so why not?

We had a bit of a chat but it wasn’t top quality. John was tired and kept falling asleep – missing my stimulating conversation and the action on the Grand Prix. After the racing had finished, I suggested he might want to watch the cricket. That turned out to be a poor suggestion. England were being slaughtered.

All in all, we’re a bit down in the dumps just at the moment – but maybe he’ll be out tomorrow?

Take care everyone. God bless.