This is a stock question that John and I ask each other, first thing in the morning, and it’s no different now, even when the ol’ man is in hospital.
So, his plans were to have a rumbling tummy again until they took him down for the bronchoscopy – and he wasn’t at all sure at what time of day that would be. My wish winged its way across to him on WhatsApp: ‘Hope it’s soon and it goes well.’
Luckily, it turned out to be soon enough and he texted me just as I was setting off to take his clean PJs and bits and bobs to him: ‘Just going down now,’ he said. Righty-ho. Delivery of clothes, etc. won’t harm in absentia. ‘OK.’ I replied, ‘Just setting off now. I’ll phone you later.’
I arrived at the QE and struggled to locate the car park we normally park in, and ended up in one which required a little walk. Ha! Not going to get away with half an hour free parking then! I toddled along to the security guard by the lifts. “Have you reported to reception?” he asked. Erm…no…. no signs to say I should, but hey-ho. I duly reported to reception. “Delivering clothes? Report to the volunteers’ desk over there.” and she waved me away. Okay…. I toddled over to the volunteers’ desk.
“Fill this form in – name, address, phone number, date of birth, inside leg measurement….” I was half-way down the form when I looked up and told the chap that John had a bag to send down. “Ohhhhh… I wish you’d have told me that before you started filling the form in. Stop. Stop! You need to report to reception….”
Back to reception, where the girl phoned the ward to let them know I would be going up. The only thing is, they are very busy (and probably short-staffed) on the ward, because there was no answer. By this time, there wasn’t half a heck of a queue of people behind me……”Can you come back later, or another day, to collect your husband’s bag and just drop yours in to the volunteers’ desk?” came the enquiry. Well, I could. But to be honest, it’s bit of a trek from Balsall Common to the QE, so I’d really rather not. Just then, the phone call was answered, however, and I was the happy recipient of a little slip of paper to hand in to the security guard by the lifts……
I hung about outside the ward John was in, for a good twenty minutes, buzzing the intercom, and buzzing again and again every so often. I could see people inside but they were all intent on doing something and not detailed to answer the door. Fed up of waiting, I started to look around in the corridor to see if I could see a likely suspect who could go in and grab someone. Ah-ha……. here we are! A couple of medics, pushing a patient on a trolley – oh, look, it’s John!
He was pleased to see me and, of course, I was pleased to see him. He’d been and had the bronchoscopy procedure and was just on his way back. “Put the bag on the bed,” he said, as they pushed him through the double doors. The medics promised to bring his returns back out with them when they came. “Speak to you later!” I called as he disappeared down the corridor. I had no doubt he would hardly remember our encounter. He was looking far too relaxed from the drugs he’d just had……
The medics were some time sorting John out once they got him back to his room, doing observations and checking he was OK. So I waited outside the ward some more. Definitely not going to get half an hour free parking, but would I even be in the hour’s parking price range now?
I speed-walked back to the car park and paid me money. Phew! Just within the hour. Hopped in the car and went to the barrier. Pushed the ticket into the slot – and it was promptly spat out again. And again. And again. Moved the car to the other barrier where the ticket was spat out there, too. Oh, for goodness’ sake!! (Or words to that effect). I finally spoke to a disembodied voice, which told me to press this button, then that button, and try again. I finally got out of the car park a good ten minutes after I’d paid for my ticket.
What are your plans for the day? Oooh, I think I’ll spend half of it just hanging around, waiting………..
This afternoon, I popped over to Paul’s. It was Ellie’s birthday today – goodness me, she’s twenty! I stayed for a while, to watch her blow her candles out on her cake, and join in the toast to her. It was lovely to see them all. I so miss them and the thrum of family life. I tell you, it doesn’t feel like it’s getting any easier, folks.
I did start to watch a bit of the rugby this afternoon, but saw the carnage and decided I wasn’t in the mood to torture myself – not even for the love of my husband so that I could talk knowledgeably to him about what had gone on. And, as it turned out, John didn’t watch it either, for the very same reason – we agreed that there’s enough agony going on without that.
On the COVID front, it’s more of the same – figures bibbling about at the same sort of numbers as the week previous.
- 5,587 people tested positive for the virus today
- 96 people died in the community with the virus in the last2 4 hours
- 36 people died in hospitals with the virus on 18 & 19 March
- And it’s Day 73 for Lockdown 3; Day 361 for Lockdown 1; Day 369 for our self-imposed Lockdown 1
If you are so inclined, please spare a thought for my most beautiful and dearest friend, Dawn, and her sister, Alison, as they mourn the loss of their very much-loved Mum today. Sad news on a day of hope as we hit the Spring Equinox, isn’t it?
Take care everyone. God bless.