Isolation Day 73

The ol’ man is home. Such a relief to have him back. He’s not yet feeling great and he’s still feeling the effects of having stared at four walls for the last 9 days, but hopefully with some rest and TLC he’ll improve and be back at it soon.

In the end, the medics didn’t wait for the results of the errant blood test and have said that John’s consultant from Heartlands will follow up on that, and the haematology, in due course. So, he was discharged with instructions to continue with the nebulised antibiotics, to take his former medication and to drink more water. Apparently, his blood pressure is often alarmingly low, so this is an attempt to improve it.

In hospital, the nurses were surprised at the blood pressure readings, so consequently kept pumping him with water. Inevitably, when they then asked if he was managing to go to the loo OK, I think they got a withering look and a suitable response…..

Being home has its plus sides – being able to eat what you fancy; sit out in the garden and feel the sunshine on your face; have an alcoholic drink if you like; see your eldest son (unexpectedly); take a video call with your middle son (we have Wifi, don’t you know); and feel your own bed welcoming you back. On the other hand, it has its minuses….. there’s the Mother-in-law, there are the cats, there’s the wife (nagging already), and there’s the reminder that you’re not actually up to doing the stuff you really want to do just yet. It’s early days, but I do think there will be some better days ahead.

Mindful that John might be home today, I stopped the drift of yesterday and got on with making sure that there was a clean and tidy house for him to come home to. That meant a whizz round with the vacuum cleaner, a properly made bed, a ‘flash’ round the en-suite (which I had been putting off…..) and bin-emptying.

But before all that, I came down for breakfast expecting both the cats to come purring round for their food, however, only Shadow put in an appearance. I got the food out ready to call Rio in, only to find him in his bed, looking very forlorn. I had noticed yesterday that he’d been a bit off-colour, but clearly, today he was very unwell and there were streaks of blood in his fur. I called the vet.

“5.20 OK?” the receptionist said. “I think so.” I replied, “I need to check with my son if he can bring him in for me at that time.” Fortunately, Paul was able to finish up what he was doing and oblige.

Of course, it meant keeping Rio in for the rest of the day. I prepped the lounge with all the usual things: bed, water, food and litter tray, and plonked him into the room. Strict instructions to Mum to keep the door shut so that Rio stayed put. She took her duties very seriously.

It transpired that Rio had been in a fight. He had taken a vicious clawing to much of his face and head, and the wounds were beginning to swell and leak. No wonder he was feeling a bit meh. A course of antibiotics, instructions to bathe the wounded areas with salt water, my purse much lighter than previously, and we’re good to go. Cats!! Who’d have ’em? Not John, obviously……

Paul was a double saviour today. He’d already had to take some time off work to trundle to the hospital and take John his specialist eye drops this morning; and then, of course, he’d had to drop everything to help with the cat this afternoon. Sons. I love them. Thank God for them.

After our evening meal, John went outside to take in more of the sunshine and contemplate his lot and the universe, before going to have a lie down on the bed. I, on the other hand, had an evening with friends planned. Naturally, had John wanted my company, I’d have been there like a shot, but he was happy for me to participate in this evening’s ‘Zoom’ session with my dear friends from college.

We should have been packing our bags this evening; I should have been prepping lovely food; we should have been choosing delicious wines and spirits to take with us; we should have been excitedly anticipating a weekend of friendly banter, walks, crossword puzzles, silly games and giggling our heads off. This weekend should have been our Hartley Wintney weekend and our annual jaunt down to Sue and Chris’s. Instead, we’re raising a glass to them and the whole ‘gang’ tomorrow in a ‘what would have been‘ toast. I’ll drink to that!! Well, you know me – I’ll drink to anything….. Lock down has a lot to answer for!

It’s not the lock down that has to answer for the infections and deaths of course, because without lock down it would have been even worse. It’s bad enough though, isn’t it? Nearly 38,000 people have died from the virus now. I find it unimaginable and sickeningly sad.

The figures then, as of yesterday, at 5 p.m. are: 1,887 people infected; 214 people have died in hospitals; 377 people have died in all settings, according to the official government website. The NHS reports 29 deaths for the same time period, with 97 having been confirmed for the day before (26 May 2020).

I am thankful for many, many things, and the lock down has taught me to value family and friends like never before. Such a blessing to have those we love, love us.

Peace and love be with you all.