An accidental tourist

Husband had to be at the hospital at 8.30 this morning and as it's a distance away we set off at 7.30 expecting to be caught in rush hour traffic. We had a clear run and were at the hospital by 8, where a cheery porter showed us in, promised me he'd look after Husband, and then showed me his name badge: David Hartrey. (Heart, arteries, angiogram? He thought it was appropriate.)

My plan was to go to Cowbridge, a small market town about 8 miles away, to while away the time until 2.00 pm when I could pick him up. Miss GPS said, "Keep left," which I did before realising what she meant was, "Go straight ahead." But as I was in Coity I thought I might as well visit the castle.

Trouble is, when you've been up for hours you forget that the rest of the world is running late and the castle was not yet open.

Coity Castle seen through the railings.

"Please do a U-turn."

Back on route finally arrived at Cowbridge. Parking is free, always a good thing. First things first and I wandered the high street in search of a tea-shop. I consulted two dog-walking ladies passing by and they recommended the Penny Farthing.

If you're having a cup of tea you have to have a toasted teacake; it's the law. I felt like a proper grown-up going into a cafe on my own.

A quick tour of the charity shops followed coming away with two jigsaws, and then on my way to the Physic Garden I followed a path down a little alley to a vintage retro market. Such a delight. More than that, so many things from my childhood. Like the Beatles first album (selling for £60), Disney Wade Whimsies - I had some from the Lady and the Tramp collection - a mangle just like my granny had, and a newly-upholstered two hundred-year-old seat. It would look wonderful in our hall. (Husband doesn't agree.)

So I finally made it to the Physic garden. It's a formal garden with an array of medicinal plants and herbs, all native to this country before the eighteenth century.

Behind the garden you can see the old grammar school. At one time the garden was a vegetable plot for the school, now it's a peaceful oasis, not at its best in November but very well tended (by volunteers) and what I especially liked is that every plant has an identifying label.

Even the humble dandelion had its place in the Dye Bed, or as I can't help but read it, the Dai Bed, named after the lazy good-for-nothing who would have lived in Llareggub if he'd ever had the oomph to go and live there.

There were just a few splashes of colour in the garden.

I still had time to pass and it wasn't really the day to sit and ponder in the garden so I headed back to the car - free car park, did I mention? - and dithered over what to do next. Decided Llantwit Major sounded interesting and it was by the sea so I'd go there.

It wasn't by the sea and apart from nearly getting caught up in a funeral cortege it wasn't interesting either. So found my way back to the Outlet Centre close to the hospital. Nothing is cheaper there! So bought a panini, drove back to the hospital and sat in the car park and listened to the radio.

Husband meanwhile had messaged to say he'd had the angiogram but had to stay to recover for a couple of hours.

When I'd eaten my panini and more importantly the radio programme I was listening to had finished I went and joined him. And wouldn't you know it? Then he decides to start bleeding.

It was quite a ferocious flow and I had to leave the room and get some fresh air. I am not good with blood. It took them several attempts to get the angiogram in and up his artery, and in the end they did it through his groin but he is left with holes everywhere.

We're home now and he is not allowed to do anything with either arm for 48 hours. I took him a cup of tea. He said, "It's very heavy."

"Don't push it, dear!"

Now it's just about waiting to hear from the consultant about what else if anything needs doing, as well as the valve that is, and when the operation will be. So we're back to waiting but we're one step - and a big one at that - down.