I did sit down to do this this morning but I think the keyboard got drunk from the alchol wipes I’d appropriated from the hospital and was playing up. I got given some cleaning wipes and a bottle of hand sanitiser and told that if there was anything else I’d use to take it as it would get thrown away. So there were cleansing wipes, more cleansing wipes and tub of alchol wipes. It was touch and go whether it would all fit in the suitcase but it did with a bit of a squash. Although when B suggested that it was a tad heavy I did say there were perhaps one or two things that weren’t essential. I left the towels.
We got home last night at 19:20 after calling at my Auntie Ann’s for the stuff. Lorna, since you asked here’s a pic…
I have no idea what’s going on with it. B put it on last night by himself and was heard to say ‘There seems to be more duvet cover than duvet’. Both did say 6ft. I had a go at straightening it earlier as there seemed to be corners without bits in but as you can see it still leaves a LOT to be desired. I’ll take another one once I’ve have a few strong words with it.
When we arrived home B was stood outside the car and I realised our next but one neighbour was out. The tiny bit of self consciousness at the new hair cut evaporated when I realised, initially thinking he was changing out of his work shirt before going in the house, that he had a towel wrapped round him. He’d nipped out for his jeans out of the boot thinking no-one was about and then had to have a conversation about how I was standing in a beige towel and bare chested. B’s closing remark was ‘Well I’ll tell you this, you’ve got guts’.
When our next door neighbour called later the new haircut didn’t bother me at all.
Maggie, one of the lovely (and that has nothing to do with the fact she thought I looked 35) but decidedly no nonsense nurses, gave us our talk before we left. I wondered why she wanted to wait until B got there to discuss my tablets but it turned out to be much more. B had ‘nipped’ over to the car park with the suitcase and Joan, the knitter, came in a bit later to enquire if he was coming back up for me or should she get a wheelchair and push me down to the main entrance! Then Maggie came in and was surprised he wasn’t back so sat down to chat and B turned up. The one question she managed to ask before he got there was
‘Who makes the decisions?’
‘That would be me! Is it not obvious?’
‘Well, yes but I have to ask.’
B advised me later that they are 50/50, his 50 generally being ‘Whatever you think.’
Maggie was the one who put my stem cells back in and B was there for some of it and at some point in the conversation it was established that according to B things went in one of his ears and came out of the other. Maggie had remembered this because she said she had a really bad memory for some things – obviously not that. So she started off saying she knew she had a bad memory for names say but had got lazy because people expected it. So B had to get his finger out and do lists as I would probably be forgetful and he wasn’t to get antsy with me when I did it. I had to do lists too, which isn’t a problem because I LOVE lists. What I can and can’t eat, she said it may be strict but it’s only for a short time. I said there was no point going through a SCT and risk it on a bad food choice. So she said for the next week processed foods were probably best but I could eat as much tinned fruit as I wanted.
B got a bit concerned over whether I’d be okay if he went back to work a week tomorrow as it may be a problem with work. So after a bit of toing and froing Maggie told him he’d had three weeks to think about it maybe he should have spoken to his manager before now – I did say no nonsense. B started saying that a colleague had to take some sort of involuntary leave when his wife had an op. Maggie stopped him and told him he couldn’t rely on this and he needed to speak to his manager. They could provide a letter detailing the implications of a SCT which when said in a formal way sounded quite dramatic. The medical advice was free but Maggie wanted 10 bob for the employment advice. And after a hug she escorted us to the door. I laughed at something she said and she said she knew I must be okay because I was laughing. Apparently due to her memory issues when anyone said in the future ‘Remember Paula?’ It would be ‘No, oh wait the one that giggled’.
I read one of my post titles yesterday and didn’t remember it – I did remember the post when I read it – so apologies if there has been some rambling.
I have only complete gratitude for the nurses making it as ‘pleasant’ as could be. I know some people have a really bad time, Maggie was going to sit with a patient when we left, but at the risk of sounding a wuss (and I didn’t think I was having once spent six hours in A&E with the ligament showing through an L-shaped cut below my knee and no painkillers) I won’t be volunteering again anytime soon. That said, thinking back to how I felt last Sunday and how I feel at the moment, good but tired, there is no comparison and it is hard to believe that a week (well not even that Wednesday was better on and off and Thursday was okay) made such an incredible difference. Okay I know I would do it again, I may not like it but I would, because in the end it is worth it.
At the risk of being sentimental I’d also like to offer a big THANK YOU to you all for being there in spirit if not the flesh!
To follow soon – A pic of my chrome dome as B has just told me I look like the little lad off the start of Kung Fu except he didn’t have pointy ears!
I tried a cream quilt cover once but the chocolate stains just wouldn’t shift with non-bio powder. 😉 I don’t usually iron my quilt cover, but I do feel B might have made more of an effort under the circumstances, didn’t he realise there would be a photo shoot?
SERIOUS STUFF: Rolf Harris once said in an interview that beauty comes from inside. You are beautiful, chrome dome or not.
B might at least have said you looked like Sigourney Weaver in Aliens 😉
Uhm, very happy to know that you are home again and making comments on duvets and whatnot…but would you PLEASE use a few more commas when you write a story??? For instance, I had to re-read (at least twice) that bit about the neighbour before figuring out that YOU were not the one who was standing in a beige towel AND bare-chested (=made no sense at all, but of course I have no idea how people return home from a UK hospital…). I am referring in particular to this sentence: “…had to have a conversation about how I was standing in a beige towel and bare chested.” No comma between “was” and “standing” led to my (temporary) misunderstanding…Okay, so my coffee probably wasn’t that strong this morning…;-)
Take it easy, don’t do too much…that is what B is for!
Your pal in Firenze Italia
Just for you Margaret, and maybe because I don’t want to get a reputation for standing about in various states of undress, more commas will be used. I made need to become a fan of Let’s eat, Grandma to pick up tips. 😀
Yes, I also thought you were the bare-chested one – that would have been FAR too many chrome domes!?! Welcome home!
I am already a fan of Let’s eat Grandma. 😉
But hey, leaving a comma out makes life more interesting…certainly more AMUSING! 😉
This was one of your more “racy” posts, to say the least, with or without commas… glad you got home without incident and can get tucked under that duvet with a mind of its own…
Pingback: Here’s Buddy! « Feresaknit's Blog