Home….

So the ol’ man has made it home. He’d planned his escape and, for once, it came good.

Oxygen delivery? Tick! Hospital bed delivery? Tick! Drugs prepped and ready to go? Tick! Bags packed? Tick!

In fact, when I arrived at the hospital this afternoon, John was sitting out of the bed, with all his chattels surrounding him, and another poor chap was sitting at the end of the bed waiting to hop into it. Blimey!! I knew it was tight, but really!!??

I was very surprised, to be honest, that the NHS had got a wriggle on. When they said things would be delivered today, I wasn’t convinced – but sure enough, the delivery vans were queuing up outside our door just after lunch and the delivery men were hot on it to get the equipment into the house and set up. Fabulous.

I wondered whether I might have to persuade John to get into the bed in the lounge. But no. Once he was home, he sat in his chair and watched TV for bit, had his evening meal and then looked longingly at his bed. At half past eight that was it. “Sorry folks,” he said, “But I’m going to bed.” We helped him into his bed and he was away. Fingers crossed that he has a good night’s sleep.

So there we are. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

Take care everyone. God bless.