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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.

If you are on John’s side of the fence, it’s pretty rough going. If you are on my side of the fence, there are difficulties, but generally it’s not too bad.

So, John didn’t come home today. We had been hopeful, but it transpires that the blood test they took the other day didn’t have the right request with it, so another twenty-four (maybe forty-eight?) hours will elapse before discharge. The second-year medical student looking after John said that they wanted to be sure he was stable before sending him home. Although this is right and good, it hasn’t helped his mood unfortunately, since he is feeling a bit better and wants to be out. So, it’s still just him and the four walls, which he is climbing every day with very little respite. And there seems to be nothing much I can do.

We spent a good while on the phone today, hanging onto each other, not wanting to let the other go until the time ran out on the phone call. I often said the wrong thing, because really, what do I know about the situation he finds himself in? I can’t fully imagine how he feels. But at least we were talking, which was better than just looking at a vanilla wall.

I had hoped that John might feel able to join in a little bit with the weekly quiz, but I think it wasn’t quite the right timing for that this evening.

Anyway, the good news is that he has stayed off the oxygen, and his own, self-generated oxygen levels are within range; his blood counts are back up to normal; he is off the IV antibiotics; and he passed the stair-climbing test with the physio today. All good signs that the medics are getting ready to give him the green light to come home.

In the meantime, on the outside, I have drifted through the day. Half-expecting to leap into action and rush over to collect the ol’ man, I have felt a bit in limbo. There has been the regular prepping of food and drinks, the standard care of Mum, such as ensuring she’s taken her tablets; got her breakfast/lunch/tea; got dressed i.e. changing into clean clothes; taking her a little walk round the garden; and settling her in front of the TV. But I haven’t felt able to do much more than that really – although I did read a chapter of my book out loud to her as we sat in the garden this afternoon, which was a bit of a change.

My drifting about consisted of twitching the bedclothes for the semblance of having made the bed; lethargically putting the ironing away; rinsing some pots – and then leaving them to dry; and wandering into the garden to see if there was a weed or two that I could pull at.

I was motivated though, just after lunch, when my friend and yoga teacher, Jaime, said she’d call in for ten minutes to check out the garden on her way to visit another friend. I gathered up and installed the cushions for the swinging chair and the general garden chairs so that we had somewhere comfy, but socially-distant, to sit.

To my delight, but to the disappointment of Jaime’s other friend, the ten minutes turned into forty-five minutes and could have gone on longer. Oh, my!! It was such a pleasure to sit and chat to Jaime. How blessed I am to know her. In fact, I can’t help but think how blessed we are with all our friends. Each and every one wishes us well and extend their hands of friendship in all sorts of ways. Mwah!

So… I am sure you noticed. It was a very warm day today, wasn’t it? And the swinging chair was all set up? What else could I do later, once Mum had retired indoors to watch her quiz programmes, but to lay down on the full length of the chair and chat to John? It had to be done. And then a bit later on, to read my book.

It is years and years since I have sat, or lain, on the swinging chair to chat or read a book. And I loved it. I can’t describe how it felt, because I was still in a ‘drifty’ sort of mood. But I almost felt like I was sixteen years old again, with the world still before me. And I felt exultant that this was something I was able to do. Lucky, lucky, lucky me. Lucky us. Lucky us to have a such wonderful home and beautiful garden to sit in.

And so, onto this evening, when it was the quiz with my Centre Stage friends. It was light relief and fun. I knew no answers whatsoever, being totally brain-dead, with the answers that I did offer being mostly wrong. But it didn’t matter. Everyone was very good humoured, and they didn’t seem to mind that I was addled. Everyone asked after John and all sent their very good wishes and fervent hopes for his return to the fold. Me too.

Tomorrow is another day. Indeed, it is – and I hope beyond hope that tomorrow is a better day for John and we are back together, home.

In the meantime, take care everyone. It is still not over, and every precaution is still needed. So, for the record…….

2,013 – people infected; 212 – people died in hospitals; 412 people died in all settings (government official figures, 5 p.m. 26 May 2020). NHS figures: 24 deaths in hospitals; 87 having been confirmed on 25 May 2020.

I felt as if I was in Provence on ‘me holidays’ today. The weather was so beautiful, the garden so lush and the trees so green that as I sat on the patio eating my French-style salad and a lemon tart lunch, I was transported back to holidays long gone. It was lovely. The only thing missing, of course, was the company…….oh, and the swimming pool. Happy memories.

The happy memories saw me through the day, because it stayed nice all day and I was able to enjoy the beauty of it. And, with those memories humming in the background, it’s been a fabulous day of surprises, too.

As you know, Mum stays in bed forever, so I thought I’d read my book in bed for a little while this morning, which I was just doing, when my phone rang…….and to my great astonishment, it was Graham on a video call!! Could have knocked me down with a feather! “Hellooooo” I said cautiously, “You OK?” Yes, they were fine, just phoning to see how John is and how Mum is getting on. We chatted for a bit, then I offered to take the phone through to Mum, who was also in bed. For once, she was awake and very keen to take the call. She had a fine chat with Graham and was actually on top form, remembering all the stuff that I’d just told Graham she couldn’t remember at all….. sod’s law that, isn’t it? Anyway, it was wonderful to see him, and he was lovely to talk to.

As the video call finished, Mum was quite perky at the point, so I suggested that she might like to get up. However, she snoozed some more until lunch time, which meant, in the end, that she had a bit of a late start to the day – again.

Having promised myself for a while that I’d sort them out, I was determined to clean some garden chairs today, so I knuckled down to it. It was a warm day, which meant that I stopped occasionally for refreshments. On one occasion when I’d stopped for a breather, I heard the postman plop the post through the letterbox. Ah-ha! A set of plants I had been waiting for had arrived. Excited, I put the rest of the post to one side and sorted out my plants, which were looking very sorry for themselves, having been dispatched last Friday and then languished in a warehouse somewhere over the Bank Holiday.

When I went back in for more water later, I decided to open the rest of the post. Ah…. how very nice… a lovely card from my goddaughter, Liz, thanking us for the plants we’d donated to her garden a year ago, showing us how they’d come on in the last year. Unexpected. Wonderful.

A wander in the garden with Mum before more scrubbing of the garden chairs, and she did the ‘Princess and the Pea’ thing again; finding every chair or position or atmosphere just ‘not quite right’, until we settled on the bench outside the patio doors where it was warm, breeze-less, sun-less and comfortable.

We came indoors after a while to organise something to eat. I saw Mum moseying towards the porch and wondered what she’d found. It was another parcel!! Addressed to me from Amazon, I thought, “Oh, no… what have I been ordering now that I can’t remember??” Anyway, it wasn’t me…. it was my dearest friend, Lizzie, who sent me some Green & Blacks chocolates. Boy! Does that girl know me well??!! I had quite a lump in my throat, to be honest.

All this, and no John?? Well, in between times, I did talk to the ol’ man, although I have to confess that when he phoned this afternoon, I missed his call as I was too engrossed in planting plants and chair-scrubbing.

He’s feeling better. The medics have taken him off the oxygen to see how his oxygen levels are without support, and his neutrophils are up. The doctor told him that they’ll stop the antibiotics now (which suggests that they’ll probably send him home tomorrow) and set him up on the nebulised ones at home. In fact, as we were chatting this evening, surprise, surprise, nurses came in and unceremoniously transported him into a different room. The room he was in, apparently, is for people with ‘bad chest infections’. All looking good, then.

And looking better, too, are the figures from the government with regards to COVID-19: 2,004 people infected; 135 deaths in hospitals; 134 deaths in all settings. NHS figures, yesterday up to 5 p.m. are: 23 deaths and 59 confirmed deaths for the day before (24 May 2020).

So, do I feel better? Well, more hopeful, anyway, and….. grateful that my brother phoned – it cheers Mum up for a couple of days at least, which offers me some respite; but……

I’m still feeling impotent over the Cummings/Johnson stuff – what have we got ourselves into? I’m anxious over the COVID-19 situation, because where does it leave us? But yet, I’m uplifted by friends’ and goddaughter’s thoughtfulness and excited that the ol’ man might be home tomorrow (or Thursday).

In the meantime, God bless you all. May tomorrow offer us all new hope.

According to Susie Dent, that wonderful wordsmith on Countdown, a ‘mumpsimus‘ (16th century) is someone who refuses to budge/insists that they are right, despite clear evidence that they are wrong. Plural: ‘mumpsimuses‘.

Is it just me, or do you recognise a mumpsimus or two in our midst? And more worryingly, those mumpsimuses, despite being challenged over and over again, look like they are going to get away with it and we’ll all roll over and say, ‘Oh, alright then, as you were.’ Yikes!! British politics is often sleazy, but this takes the biscuit, in my view. It’s going to be interesting, the next few days…..

In the meantime, when I wasn’t being distracted by the Cummings/Johnson story, I was generally having a good day. John, too, has had a reasonable day, despite being on the end of strong, but kind, words telling him he must wear his oxygen mask at all times. Oxygen has been prescribed and it is not optional.

John is feeling a little bit better, and he decided to do some strengthening exercises. The oxygen mask was in the way, so he took it off, and then forgot to put it back on again. The fact that he was keen to improve his muscle tone and felt well enough to forget his oxygen suggests he is on the mend. Just waiting for some blood test results and a pronouncement as to when he can come home, and we’ll be able to start getting on with life again – in a lock down sort of way.

However, the ol’ man’s eyes are sore, not having been able to take his specialist serum into hospital with him when he was whisked away, so Paul offered to take some in to help improve them. Of course, Paul had to come here didn’t he, to collect the eye drops? What a shame that I was forced to spend ten minutes chatting to him in the garden when he called in………one happy me.

This afternoon was one of those that stuttered. I got myself all prepared to clean down some of the garden chairs and had walked my Mum out into a shady spot so she could keep me company, when the phone rang. It was John, up for a chat. Lovely. The chairs can wait.

John cut the call short though, as he had a visit from a medic. “Phone me back.” I said. Meanwhile, Mum was fidgeting. Too cold in the shade. So, I walked her over to a chair in the sunshine. John phoned again, and we settled in for a nice, long chat. Mum was fidgety. The sun was too bright. I ran in to get her a hat. Carried on chatting. Mum was fidgety again; the sun was too on her neck. Hang on. I’ll get the parasol. Carried on chatting some more. John wondered what the temperature outside was, so I ran in again to look at our inside/outside thermometer. Meanwhile, Mum had managed to manoeuvre her chair round all by herself to avoid the breeze…….

At the end of the phone call, I heard another phone ringing. I looked at both the phones I’d got – nope, not one of them. Must be the neighbours. Mum was keen to go inside. No worries, I’ll just run in and take the phones and crockery in and come back to get you. That phone was ringing again, somewhere. I ran in. Oh!! There was a stranger at the door. The penny dropped. It was my front doorbell that had been ringing, and the Tesco delivery had arrived. Poor man was just about to load the groceries back into the van…….

So, it was ‘shopping washing’ and then cooking the evening meal. The garden chair cleaning? Maybe tomorrow….

For the record though – corona virus infections, as of yesterday at 5 o’clock, were: 1,625. Deaths in hospitals: 76. Deaths in all settings 121. Deaths according to the NHS figures: 19; with 56 being the final figure for the day before.

I have no idea what to make of any of it any more though, and the more I listen to Boris and his mate, the more like Animal Farm it seems, and I am Horse.

Peace be with you all.

Having banged on about my kitchen (which still isn’t finished), my dear friend Michelle asked if she could see a pic of it so far. No worries, I said. I’ll send you a video. Well, the video I took was too big to load and so the video was never sent. Since then, apart from the time when I cleaned all the cupboards down, the kitchen has constantly been a mess. However, today it was tidy. I videoed it again and the pics were sent. Whoop!! Whoop!! Tomorrow, of course, it will be messy again, but there you are. I’ve had a nanosecond of tidiness and I feel gooood. (Does a little dance…..)

After the cancellation of an appointment with the bathroom yesterday, Mum felt up to her weekly wash and brush up today, so we tackled it. For once, it was very successful. Mainly down to the fact that I had bought hundreds of curlers for her hair, so it wasn’t quite so scraped together, but also because we did some imaginary play, just like I do with the grandchildren; she loved pretending to actually be at the hairdressers, offering to pay her money for her hair set, plus a little tip. We had a laugh about it, but it buoyed her up for the rest of the day, which is always a bonus.

Being Sunday, I went to ‘church’ in spirit, if not in reality, and joy of joys, Kim played the piano for our first hymn. I am so missing his music, so I was delighted!! Then both the reading by Linda, and the sermon by Alison, were delivered beautifully – and gave me food for thought. And, despite the ‘cummings’ and goings in Downing Street, I lit a candle of hope this evening, as I always do at the appointed time each week, in an effort to remind myself that the world isn’t wholly populated by disingenuous people.

John and I had a couple of natters on the phone today, but I am not sure they helped, really. He’s stuck in a room, more or less staring at the four walls, as his usual access to entertainment is limited, and not only that, he just wants to get on doing stuff. Although I think he is feeling a bit better physically, that’s not much good if the mental state takes a dive, is it? I phoned up the ward, to ask them to see what they could do to support him, but today was probably ‘not a lot’, so I’ll have another go at getting in touch tomorrow. But I am worrying because I can’t physically be there for him, which I normally am, of course. Darned virus!

Had a couple of ‘awww’ and LOL moments today though, over the grandchildren, which lifted my spirits. Just after lunch, Paul sent through a video of Freddie, riding his bike round and round the island in their kitchen, naked, apart from his socks! I have no idea why he was naked – perhaps he’d been in the paddling pool, but oh, it so amused me!! He was as happy as a sand boy, his little face lit up with glee and giggling his way round his ‘track’. It’s definitely one for the 18th birthday party, that one!!

Then later on, Michael sent a picture of William, lying on the new decking that had been installed yesterday, looking up into the sky, with his hands behind his head. He also looked as happy as a sand boy as he watched the clouds go by. Oh, my, how I miss being in the company of those boys.

After the blustery-ness of the last two days, it seemed to calm down a bit this afternoon, so I had a wander out into the garden to ‘survey the estate’, as they say. Just to be part of the outside, to smell the heady perfume of the jasmine climbing up the back wall, to feast my eyes on the flowers in bloom, and to anticipate the emergence of those yet to bloom, was manna from heaven. Sat on my swing and began to muse about life….and wondered what will be thrown at us next…..it’s getting hard, dammit!!

Or at least, it’s not getting any easier, with the virus still bouncing about in the population, albeit to a lesser extent than previously, with 2,409 people having succumbed to infection according to the official figures today; 171 deaths in hospitals and 118 deaths in all settings. 28 deaths in hospitals according to the NHS figures for the same time period (5 p.m 23 May 2020), with 70 having been confirmed for the day before.

But it’s mind-bending to try and think what we are going to do as time goes on. It’s the weirdest prison sentence ever, isn’t it??

In the meantime, God bless. Take of yourselves and remember to smell the roses.

The best laid plans are sometimes best just left like that, aren’t they? Just as plans. So that’s what I did today, left my plans on hold and rested. I hadn’t planned anything exciting – it was simply to do the ironing, and to do Mum’s weekly wash and brush-up. But in the end, having messed about this morning with ‘shopping washing’, bed-making, paper-shredding and bin emptying, I sat and caught up on some TV over a sandwich at lunchtime. Well, that was it, then – couldn’t be bothered to do anything else.

Mum was still in her nightie and dressing gown as she ate her lunch and thought about getting dressed afterwards. I reminded her that we were going to do her ablutions, so she stayed undressed. A bit later on, I suggested we make a move to the bathroom, to which she turned her nose up and said she wasn’t looking forward to it. Glad of an escape, I said we could leave it until tomorrow. She relaxed back in her chair, relieved. And, as a result, she’s stayed undressed all day. Ah, well, we weren’t exactly expecting visitors today anyway, more’s the pity!

I wasn’t exactly expecting anything today but, out of the blue, a text message pinged into my phone telling me to expect a parcel between 11 and 12. The parcel duly arrived, although I hadn’t realised it until later, because there was no doorbell sound, sending its multitude of tunes throughout the house. When I finally looked outside, there was a box of beautiful flowers for me! How blessed I have been this week for friends thinking of me. So, a shout-out to Alison and Sally who said they were thinking of us. So thoughtful.

A day of rest for me, much needed, is great; but John, on the other hand, enforced to rest by illness, isn’t enjoying it so much. Without visitors, or any nurses staying to chat, or internet to binge on, or Audible books to listen to, it’s a pretty boring existence in his room at the hotel – sorry, hospital. I think the most exciting thing for him is taking a shower.

We have spent some time chatting on the phone though, which is lovely. We’ve had three goes at it today, morning, noon and night. The ‘noon’ conversation went on so long that the phone line timed out and we were cut off after an hour. Shocker! By this evening though, although I wanted to hang on to him to chat some more, neither of us could think of much to say – him, because he’s doing nothing, and me, because I’d done nothing today either.

Being the weekend, of course, nothing much is happening on the medical side of things either, with drugs having already been prescribed and are simply being administered; and the ol’ man just having to follow the physio exercises that had been discussed and demonstrated. So now it’s a waiting game to see when the blood count improves and infection rates decrease, before they discharge him. Nothing to see here just now, folks.

With the Corona virus is still infecting and killing people, it feels a bit like Ground Hog Day today. 2,595 people were confirmed as infected at a 5 p.m. yesterday; 190 people died in hospitals and 282 in all settings. 30 deaths in hospital according to NH, with 81 deaths now confirmed for the day before (22 May 2020).

I am hoping that this shocking experience, like Ground Hog Day, will help us see what needs to be put right in our lives now. But with Cummings-gate going on, it looks like some people will never learn – which is alarming for our future, our children and our children’s children.

Take care everyone – peace be with you all.

If only I had a brain, I’d be winning! And dangerous probably, but honestly, the grey matter gets more addled every day.

I had a lovely morning, chatted to John first thing, to see how he was, and then, my friend Chris dropped the most gorgeous bunch of roses in, and we had a little chat on the path; and then I spent ages talking to my good friend, Anita, on ‘how do you solve a problem like my Mum?’ (please sing to the tune ‘How do you solve a problem like Maria?’…) before Mum actually drifted into view, still in her night attire at mid-day, just the two hours after I’d woken her up.

I think it was then that my grey matter went into meltdown. “Are you planning on having breakfast, or lunch?” Anita asked Mum over the WhatsApp video call. She wavered, “Perhaps breakfast?” she offered, tentatively. Then, when I’d said goodbye to Anita, she said, “What are you going to have?” Well, I was going to have my favourite breakfast/lunch/snack dish, of poached egg on toast. “Oh, that sounds nice, I’ll have that, the same as you.” I nodded and suggested she help me get it ready. All well and good so far.

Ah-ha!! I hear you regular readers thinking – ah-ha! didn’t she say she was never going to feed Mum toast again after the last debacle? Of course, I didn’t remember that thought process, did I, until she was well into the struggle of trying to cut the crusts off……oh, dear. The effort of eating the toast left Mum exhausted and……..was she going to have a turn? Fortunately, not, but it was touch and go for a minute or two. If only I had remembered my own advice!!!

Anyway, to John, who is still languishing in hospital. He tells me that the medics are being very attentive and carefully explaining what they are doing and why. They have been in touch with Heartlands and discussed his ‘interesting case’ with colleagues there, so we are keeping our fingers crossed that the wires don’t. He is still on oxygen and still a bit out of breath if he exerts himself – like in the shower where he must have had fun, because he said, “Showering in an oxygen mask, whilst connected to a variety of tubes, is like scuba diving through a pan of spaghetti!”. Great image, eh?

Technically, as I understand it, the medics are treating John for the Pseudomonas infection in his chest and for a low neutrophil count, and we think that they won’t let him out until they are satisfied that things are a bit more stable. A suggestion of Monday or Tuesday maybe.

But, on to this afternoon which brought great excitement. So much so, that I was jumping up and down like Tigger, and generally wind milling my arms about as fast as you like as I welcomed Michael, Danielle and William into the garden for an hour’s visit. I hadn’t felt excitement like it since Paul and Freddie visited on Tuesday!!

We had talked about the Sutton Sleaths coming over for a social distancing visit once travel was permitted, and so we’d plumped on today being the day. What we hadn’t planned for, of course, was that the ol’ man wasn’t going to be at home to greet them. Should we go ahead with the visit? Or should we wait? After having carefully thought about it for a nanosecond, I said “Let’s go ahead.” John joined in for a while on the phone and I sent a couple of videos to him of the family playing the garden, so he had something at least.

Oh my days! It was bliss. To be able to talk, face to face. To see Michael and Danielle’s beautiful, glowing faces as they smiled at me. To see William’s delight as he realised he was at Grandma and Grandpa’s. And to watch him running about the garden and playing in the sandpit and chattering away to me, to Mummy and Daddy, and to himself. Glorious. To be part of William’s ‘Why?’ phase, even for an hour or so, was just heaven.

Grandma Hazel, aka Mum, also joined the party, but from inside the house looking out. She thought she might like come out and sit on the bench with me, but having put one foot outside the patio door, she retreated pronto as the wind blew. She popped out, a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, making us all laugh at her ‘Jack-in-a-Box’ antics. And later on, she stood at the patio door again, and with absolute delight shining from her eyes and a cheeky grin, she waggled her hand furiously to wave to William in the sandpit. She enjoyed the visit too.

The hardest part, of course, was saying goodbye, and William telling Mummy that he didn’t want to leave. It also broke my heart to see the furrowing of his brow when he made to come to me for a cuddle and we had to tell him to keep his distance. He’s too little for this stuff, damn it!!

After our evening meal, I spent a lovely hour or so chatting to John on the hospital phone. He’d been debating whether to invest in three days of TV time as the internet signal there isn’t very good, and he’s struggling to pick up his usual entertainment on his phone. In the end, I thought a bit of reverse psychology might work on his ailments, and if his ailments knew that he’d coughed up real money for the telephone and TV, he’d be out of hospital in no time. We’ll wait and see on that one….

I wondered if John would be able to pick up the photos I’d sent him, but he tells me that if the wind is in the right direction, the internet will spark into life and he can sometimes get things on his phone. Well, that’s alright, then.

And COVID-19? How’s that doing today? As of yesterday at 5 p.m: still over three thousand people have tested positive for the virus; 172 deaths in hospitals and 351 in all settings. The NHS figures for deaths in hospitals was 27, but 61 finally confirmed for the day before (20 May 2020).

With people milling about on beaches and in parks due to the hot weather this week, do we expect the figures to rise again? What say you all?

God bless.

After the excitement of yesterday, it’s been very quiet at home today. It’s always quiet when the ol’ man isn’t here – he always generates such an energy and buzz that it’s impossible not to be swept up with it. On my own with Mum is a different story altogether of course. But it’s been OK.

Difficult to know exactly what has been happening in the hospital with John though, as I am not there. But I do know that he has had umpteen medics popping in and out of his room to listen to his chest; take blood, blood pressure and oxygen levels; provide drugs or top-up drips; or have another listen to his chest; and to instruct him on using the oxygen tanks, that he’s to cart around everywhere with him for the time being.

He tells me that he thinks that because it is a teaching hospital, he is a ‘project’ for one of the student doctors. At Heartlands, he’s always been an ‘interesting case’ and I think his reputation has preceded him all the way to University Hospital Coventry, too. And, well, for those of us who know and love him, we’ve always thought he be an interesting case……

Naturally, he’s a bit fed up. Obviously, it’s because he’s feeling poorly, but also because he’s in a very different hospital and he’s not sure of the ‘routine’. What time will they wake him up, or administer drugs, or give him his meals – and, more importantly, will he get a night-time cuppa and a biscuit??

I think it was such a long day for him yesterday, that he’s a bit confused about what day of the week it is, when he went into hospital, who said what when – and was that today or yesterday? So that’s not making him feel better about himself either!! Fingers crossed he’ll feel better tomorrow after today’s interventions and a night’s sleep.

As always when John isn’t around, I’m a bit like a puppet with its strings cut. So, this morning, I wafted around, not quite knowing what to do first. In the end, the doorbell rang and that moved me on. The delivery was another pair of ‘wheels’ for John’s ‘car-in-the-garage‘. The ‘wheels’ are little trolleys to put the car onto so that we can manoeuvre it without having to start the engine. I’m looking forward to that!!

The delivery chap (thinking he was helpful, no doubt) dumped the parcel slap bang in front of the hallway door inside the porch. There’d be no getting in or out of the front, any time soon, without moving the parcel. It was quite heavy. So, I took it a little ‘walk’ and the pair of us toddled to the garage, nay, to the ‘car-in-the-garage‘, ready for the waltz with the wheels sometime next week.

While I was in the vicinity of the garage, I took the opportunity to put my own car back on to trickle charge. After that, I was off and running for the rest of the day.

First job? Get the weed killer out and have a go at the pesky bindweed. The only trouble was, it was very, very hot just then. The sun was beating down on my back and little beads of sweat were forming on my brow – most unladylike. Phew….puff…. sigh….. stop. Get a glass of water. Sit down for a bit. Puff….sigh…. a bit more. Prevaricate. Try to extricate the mint from the bindweed. Watch out… don’t get the weed killer on the mint! And, as for trying to unravel the bloomin’ stuff from the jasmine….. well, it was at that point I gave up. Another go tomorrow??

I had managed to persuade Mum to sit outside while I tackled the bindweed, and she provided a great running commentary which, for once, I heeded. “Anne, you’re working too hard. Stop and have a bit of a rest.” Oh, OK then….. “Anne, I do think you should stop and have a cup of tea.” Oh, what a good idea!! And so on….

Right now, I can’t decide whether the bindweed is doomed and will get its comeuppance with the weed killer soon, or whether we are doomed, and it will gleefully thumb its nose at us for ever more. I think it might be the latter, if I’m honest……ah, well, it does have very pretty flowers.

And so the day went on, much in the same vein, me pottering in the garden, Mum providing a running commentary, “You need a bit more soil just here….” until she’d had enough and it really was too hot and she had to go in, just in time to watch Tenable, Tipping Point and The Chase. I ploughed on, trying to clear a bit here and do a bit there. It was nice, but oh, so quiet.

In between times, I spoke to John and other family and friends, oohed and ahhed at images of the grandchildren, laughed out loud at the picture of poo that Michael sent – Chester’s ‘mud kitchen’ feast of yesterday now deposited on the kitchen floor – oh dear, sorry to have laughed. I think I must be verging on the hysterical.

But all of it helped keep me going. And then this evening, after applauding our brilliant NHS and care workers, I zoomed upstairs to chat to my lovely girls from college. The more we ‘Zoom’ the better it is, and this evening was gently wonderful. Love them all.

The virus, though, is still high on my ‘alert’ radar and I understand that the rise in figures the other day that I was fretting about was because of the weekend reporting. However, I am beyond words regarding it all. We do seem to be a country in crisis now, although I accept that hindsight may paint a different picture in months and years to come.

Just for the record though, official figures today: 2,615 people infected in hospitals; 251 people have died in hospitals; and 338 people have died in all settings, as of 5 o’clock yesterday. The NHS figures: 44 people have died in hospitals, with 73 having been confirmed yesterday (19 May 2020).

If you are so inclined, please hold us in your thoughts and prayers – John and I both need a bit of a cradle just now.

So…. the bindweed lives to fight another day!! How did that happen, I hear you ask? Well, it was like this…

It’s been a day of two halves. This morning was most delightful and enjoyable. We got up with the sunshine, breakfasted like kings, and looked forward to the day. I busied myself, rummaging in the attic, to extricate soft furnishings for the garden furniture in anticipation of two of our oldest friends, Dave and Chris, calling in. I set the garden up beautifully – with chairs well-spaced; some in shade, some in sunshine, for every eventuality, including the obligatory social distancing……and then…….. they were here!!!

Excitedly, I ran in from the garden and woke John from his slumber on the settee to let him know. He’d had a bit of a bad night – hadn’t slept well – and was struggling with his cough. But we welcomed our dear friends into the garden, keeping our distance, and chose where best to sit – among the shade of the trees, as it was already about 27°C even at 11 o’clock in the morning – and chatted away.

I was thrilled when Chris presented us with a bag of goodies, too. Inside, there was cake! Chris is famed for her cake where she lives in Rugby, and so we were delighted and felt graced to have one her fabulous Victoria Sponges. Not only that, there was chocolate as well. Oh, alleluia!!

Dave and Chris had planned to spend 10 minutes saying ‘hello’, maybe on the path at the front; but we have such a big garden, so how lovely to sit and chat there instead of on the drive?

As usual, I was like a ‘jack-in-box’. Up and down, to check on Mum – making sure she was dressed; she’d made it downstairs in one piece; had her breakfast; had taken her tablets; felt safe; didn’t want to come outside/did want to come outside?

And then, I thought that John wasn’t feeling great, so ran upstairs to get the thermometer. “What are you doing that for?” he asked. “Well, I can feel something going on as I sit beside you, dear……” Temperature: 37.8°C. Hmmm……. well, that’s bit higher than a) yesterday; and b) I would like to see.

Once Mum was downstairs, I let her know that friends from my teenage years were here and would she like to meet up with them? Oh, yes, please. And, with that, she was up and fairly scampered down the garden to greet them. She sat with us and enjoyed the to-and-fro chat, even contributing to it herself, calling up memories that weren’t quite as we remembered them. No-one minded. It was just nice to enjoy each other’s company.

Having enjoyed seeing their wonderful, smiling faces and hearing about what’s happening in their lives we bade Dave and Chris a fond farewell, at last. Then we planned to tuck into cake…..

Before cake and after lunch, John was tired, so he went to bed. Just before you go…. can I take your temperature, please? Oh, it’s now 37.9°C. Take your jumper off and make sure you lie down on top of the covers. I’ll check your temperature in an hour.

After being bothered about John’s chest over the last day or two, I phoned the respiratory nurses this morning, who suggested leaving off the nebulised antibiotic for a day or two as it may not be agreeing with him.

However, it was clear to me that he wasn’t well and his temperature was increasing. At 38.2°C, I said, “John? I’m going to phone the hospital to see what they advise.” “Yeah, whatever.” I left a message for the respiratory nurses. Then I phoned the Triage nurse on Haematology and her advice was to dial 999. I queried it as an ambulance wouldn’t take John to Heartlands. She repeated the advice. I discussed it with John, “Yeah, whatever.” I thought about it for a bit. In the end, I dialled 999. The respiratory nurse phoned back just as the ambulance crew arrived. “Yes, good, I’d have advised calling them, too.”

So, that’s it. The ol’ man is hospital again, just not the hospital he’s used to and one which doesn’t have his records. I’ve wondered, over and over, whether I should have dialled the ambulance service or whether I should have bundled him into the car and taken him to Heartlands. However, everyone tells me, including Moira who phoned at tea-time to offer support, that The University Hospital Coventry has good nurses and doctors, so I think it’s OK and he’ll be out in a day or two. And John tells me that they are going to touch base with Heartlands tomorrow – yessss…..

I went out into the garden after John left, and thought maybe I’d tackle the bindweed then. But really, the mood didn’t take me, so it’s lived to see another day. Maybe tomorrow?

Mum was upset by the ‘doings’ of this afternoon and she wore her worried face. I regret that, although I was kind, I didn’t feel that I could sympathise. I was too worried myself, and was very grateful for lovely Margaret and her husband, Chris’s visit, offering me a bottle of wine to ‘keep me going’. They caught me just after John had left, and I was never more pleased to see someone who brought love with them than they did just then. Livia also passed by, and I felt blessed again.

Obviously, I chatted to the children (each 39, 33 and 30 years old respectively) to let them know that their Dad was at leisure in a hospitalised environment again, and was eternally grateful for their love and support, too.

Finally, as luck would have it, I chatted for over an hour to my dear friend Anita, who offered words of wisdom like no other could.

And so, today, I haven’t taken note of the situation with the Corona-virus as, a) I was too busy enjoying myself this morning, and b) I was too preoccupied with our situation at home this afternoon, so I shall look at all that tomorrow.

God bless and thank the Lord for medical staff, dear family and friends.

Oh, joy of joys! Paul called in today, unexpectedly, to pick up emergency sandpit rations, and he brought Freddie with him!!

Apparently, the sand in Freddie’s own sandpit was out of bounds because their dog, Mac, had been overly interested in it. All the stores were out of play sand on a Tuesday afternoon, so had we got any spare? The only thing is, said Paul, I’ve got Freddie with me. Well, it was a hot, sunny day and it was easy to be socially distanced outside, so we said, “Come.” We uncoiled the hose and lay it down just beyond the patio to illustrate the ‘no-go’ area, which Freddie respected beautifully, and then we sat on the patio while Paul and Freddie played in the main part of the garden.

It was lovely. Just lovely – to hear Freddie’s piping little voice echoing round the garden again; to see him race to the swing and tummy-swing for ages, or twizzle on it round and round and back again; to enjoy his excitement of ‘hide and seek’ and his giggling in the tickling game; to hear him talk of his ‘tree house’ in the little woods at the bottom of the garden; and to listen to him excitedly pointing out the fish, the damsel flies, the frog and the lily pads on the pond – and “Can we feed the fish, Daddy?”

The only thing was, when it came time to go home, Freddie didn’t really want to go, and we didn’t want to let him go. But his virtual hug was out of this world. Parting is such sweet sorrow…….

The visit has pretty much eclipsed everything else we have done today – so much so that I can hardly think what we did until this evening, when we had a lovely couple of hours chatting to dearest friends Pete and Dawn, and Carol and John on Skype. We had hoped to Skype in the luxury of our lounge, projecting the pictures onto the TV screen, but we weren’t able to get it working properly initially, and then Mum had a bit of a fit about the fact she wouldn’t be able to watch the rest of Doc Martin, so we abandoned the idea and simply ‘lap-topped’ it instead. But it was oh, so really good to see everyone and share our lock down stories.

I had intended today to be ‘bindweed-ageddon’ but in the end, what with one thing or another, I didn’t manage it. Although I was up relatively early, household duties seemed to take precedence and then it was lunchtime already!! After lunch, of course, we were certainly not going to turn down an opportunity to see number one son and Freddie, were we?

John did manage a bit of something today though – he went back to the ‘cupboard above the fridge freezer’ and screwed it into place. Then spent some time putting together the frame for the door. He’s done well although, I must say, he is coughing and wheezing far too well for my liking……

Mum has joined in pretty well today and even helped me plant out some seeds into trays this morning, which she really enjoyed doing. I do hope the seeds germinate now…. In addition, she had a little walk round the garden, joined us outside for lunch and also sat on the patio to watch Freddie play, before feeling too hot and going back inside to watch TV.

I have been so wrapped in family and friends today, I have hardly glanced at the news but, whoosh! Just like that, the figures are shocking today for deaths in all settings – I am not sure why. The official figures from the government are that 2,412 people were confirmed as infected yesterday, 199 people died in hospitals and 545 people died in all settings. The NHS figures show 29 people died in hospital yesterday, with 94 confirmed for the previous day.

Take care everyone – it’s not over yet.