A race to the finish

Husband continues to do well; I continue to sniff. As Elder Son commented, it'll be a race to see if Husband recovers from open heart surgery before I recover from my cold.

It's not so much that I'm ill now as I am worried about whether I'm still infectious and a risk to Husband. That said I'm taking it easy and avoiding people. But tomorrow I'm back to cooking chilli in Zac's as Claire, our chef, has broken her wrist, and Stu is tending to his wife who's just had a skin graft following a serious burn. I'll be on my own cooking so I can just do it at my own pace - which I do anyway!

Today I've written an article for the Gower magazine - deadline tomorrow. I was halfway through it when I thought, "This is too boring to write or read," and began again. I think my second version is better though perhaps not back to peak form yet. By the way, here is the link to my most recent article. It's on page 26.

Nothing much happening really. After all the stress and hoo-haa of the past few months - well, year really - it's back to waiting again, but at least what we're waiting for is all good.

Latest jigsaw, London landmarks.

Operation Jellyhead

In my head it feels as if my brain is coated in a thick jelly and each time I move my head my brain bumps into the jelly and it makes a sort of schlurpy noise. Even when I'm not moving my head it feels echoey.

* * * * *

I discovered that I had taken out insurance on my theatre tickets! I didn't do it first time round but must have added it when I rebooked. Have I said this before? You'll have to excuse me. Jelly-head you know. Anyway I've completed a form and dropped it off at the doctors' to give permission for them to view Husband's records so they can write me a letter to prove he's not well.

I've tried to find out how to let the theatre know we won't be there and they could resell our tickets but they don't seem to want to know. But I tried.

* * * * *

Husband continues to do well. He has been moved from ICU to HDU and, in fact, the doctor said he could go straight to a normal ward but there was a bed ready for him in HDU and not in the ward. I'm happier about that. I am also amazed that he is only on paracetamol.

Because I'm still coughing and snuffly I won't go in yet and have to rely on phone calls but that's okay. I'll be seeing plenty of him when he's home and being looked after . . .

* * * * *

I sat out in the sun this afternoon to read my book. I was wrapped up warm as there was a breeze to one side, but I'm definitely feeling more human.

And I discovered these little delights lurking behind the trampoline.

* * * * *

I've also done a self-diagnosis on my finger. You know when you have your fingers bent in to grip something and then you let go? Your fingers leap back to their usually straightish position. Well, my ring finger has to think about it. I don't have to push it up but it definitely takes its time.

My careful research has led me to conclude this is possibly the beginning of a claw finger, usually caused by ulnar something or other, but I'm wondering if it is because my wedding ring is tight. I can twirl it round but can't get it off.

I haven't taken my ring off my finger since we were married forty-six and a half years ago but I'm wondering if I may need to. I shall consult the doctor at some point when everything has settled down, and get a proper opinion. 

Fat fingers. You don't think about your fingers getting fat, do you?

* * * * *

I watched All the President's Men again this weekend. I was thinking to myself that we need reporters like Woodward and Bernstein now but then I realised that we already know all about the misdeeds and the lies but it doesn't seem to matter these days.

What's wrong with that?

Husband phoned me last night. "Are you eating properly?"
"Yes."
"What did you have for dinner?"
"Um . . . ice cream."

If I can't have ice cream for dinner when Husband is in hospital when can I have it?

In our phone calls yesterday he sounded great; today not so good. Very tired and weak. I think the effects of the anaesthesia may have worn off completely. The physiotherapist tried to get him to march on the spot. He told her to go away. Which isn't like Husband. As Daughter said yesterday, he will not give in but will persevere until he can do what's asked of him. 

Recovery will be a long haul but it's begun and we can look forward to life again. With lots of holidays!

Once I stop being snuffly and coughy. Fed up of this already. I am a very impatient patient. 

Daughter brought me a box of Parisian macarons from her holiday. She said I could share them with Husband but I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Not in his condition. I may have to eat them all myself.

Good news!

The operation went very well! I phoned the ward this morning and the nurse said he's doing great and they'll be getting him up into a chair soon.

We knew he went down to theatre at about 1 and I had the idea that surgery would be finished by 6 - don't know where I got that from. At about 7 Son-in-law phoned the hospital and they said he wasn't in the ward yet and to try again at 8. 

Daughter rang and he still wasn't there but that wasn't unusual, they said. (It might not be unusual for you but none of this is usual for us!) Finally just after 9 Daughter phoned to tell us - Elder Son had come around to keep me company - that Husband was back in the ward and that the operation went very well.

Depending on how he progresses he'll stay in ICU (intensive care) for a day or so and then move to HDU (high dependency) where the physiotherapists set to work on him - or set him to work.

My cold has developed into a croaky cough so I'll be staying away. I'm planning on spending the next two days, sleeping and doing nothing in an attempt to get this bug out of my system.

Meanwhile today is St. David's Day. (St. David is the patron saint of Wales.) The dragon is our emblem, daffodil our flower, leek our vegetable, and rugby our game.

Quick update

So it's happening this afternoon. I'm almost scared to say that in case there's a last minute hiccup.

And I have the worst cough/cold I've had for years.

I'll update more later.

So bad it's good

I woke in the middle of the night with the first hint of a sore throat. I spent the rest of the night awake worrying that if I have a cold I won't be able to visit Husband even when lockdown is lifted.

As it happened I had to be up and dressed early to go to the dentist. I went in, the dentist said, "Hello, how are you?" I mentioned I had the beginnings of a cold and she said, "I can't look at your teeth then. Rebook an appointment."

I only mentioned it for fear that, if she stuck things in my mouth, I would gag. Still, stopped at an artisan bakery on the way home to buy focaccia for lunch so it wasn't an entirely wasted trip.

It was pouring when I woke up but by the time I got back from the dentist it was sunny so Louie and I took a walk on the beach. What felt like a warm gentle intermittent breeze on my back turned into a cold strong persistent wind in my face when we walked back.

But there was a warmth in the air carrying the promise of spring.

Husband tells me it looks hopeful that lockdown will be lifted tomorrow and that it's all systems go for his op on Friday, provisionally of course. I shall be furious if I'm too germ-ridden to see him beforehand. I have been totally well for so long! But we can't risk any chance of infection.

* * * * *

In the car I was listening to a programme called So Bad It's Good, about films, songs, books, that are so bad they're good. Some of the films and songs the presenters discussed I had enjoyed not realising they were 'bad'!

I think basically they were saying, if it's entertaining with heart and feeling, then even if the plot is weak, the acting rubbish, and the tone not at all intellectual, then it falls into this category.

The one where a misplaced apostrophe saves me stress

I have fifteen-year-old GrandDaughter1 staying with me this week so we're having fun.

Yesterday we took Louie for a lovely walk then watched Sex and the City. Most of it anyway. We had our hands over our eyes for several big chunks. Then we ordered Domino's for dinner. It's just like being on holiday. 

Meanwhile Husband's op, which was pencilled in for tomorrow, has been postponed until Friday. The ward is still in lockdown and I'm unable to visit but I'm just thinking I may take up some clean socks as well as another book and a new puzzle book as he's just about finished everything. I assume I will be able to send things in to him even if I can't go in.

Later

I went. Husband came to the ward door but I had to leave a big space between us, and couldn't give him a kiss or hug but, at least, I saw him. He's okay. His swollen face isn't so and it's turned a nice yellow shade now.

I had walked almost all the way back to the hospital entrance when I stopped to take a photo of a misplaced apostrophe. That was when I realised I'd left my phone in the bag I'd given Husband, so it was all the way back to his ward to get it.

It's not often I'll be grateful for a misplaced apostrophe - or four as each sign was the same - but if I'd gone home without my phone it would have been a bother.