So quite an action packed day for me today. I knew that there were three things that I needed to do before I got to the hospital this morning so I left home about three quarters of an hour earlier to accommodate them. The first was to get some cash out of an ATM and this I did in a local supermarket where I can immediately outside the ATM machines. Having done this, I needed to fill up of petrol which I did in the supermarket filling station. As I went in to pay, I noticed that they had a rack full of ‘Sunday Times‘ so I managed to get this whilst paying for my petrol. Having allowed plenty of time for things to go wrong e.g. chasing around for the complete Sunday Times,, I was now in plenty of time. I decided to go to the hospital anyway which I did arriving at about 9.10 but knowing that the Ward would not normally me in until 10.00am. The normal volunteer staffed coffee bar was closed but a hospital shop was open which was equipped with a huge Costa Coffee machine that brewed a fresh cup of cafe for you but where they issued a bill which was paid for at the counter of the shop. This seemed to be quite a civilised arrangement and as I was so ridiculously early, I succumbed to the temptation of an Eccles cake which comes in the category of ‘naughty but nice’ for me. Having consumed my coffee and Eccles cake, there was a slight logistical challenge in getting to the men’s loo before the day kicked off. There was a sole middle aged male typing away at his laptop and I asked him if he could mind my hat and pile of newspapers because I didn’t want to go into the toilet with them. The toilet was in the process of being cleaned but no cleaner was evidence so I kicked the sign away and used the facilities as normal. Upon my return to the coffee lounge to retrieve my hat and newspapers, the chap busy typing away followed my example and I looked after his things whilst he went to the loo. When he returned we had an interesting snatch of conversation because it transpired that he was a crime writer and warned me that any story I might tell could end up in one his books. I reciprocated by telling him I write a blog every day and he again could feature in it. Nonetheless, I did manage to get one or two amusing anecdotes into the conversation and who knows whether they might appear in print one day. So we parted and went our various ways and I made for Ward 14. Here it appeared that Meg had had quite a reasonable night and I was relieved to see that the day staff seemed pleasant and sympathetic. One HCA (Health Care Assistant) lives only about three quarters of a mile away from using Bromsgrove so we were evidently used to the same haunts. After about half an hour, our Eucharistic Minister turned up from our local church – normally she would have visited us in our own home but when she heard of Meg’s plight, she said she would come over the hospital. As well as having our normal little services, our friend also brought us a couple of crosses made out of palms (traditional in Catholic households and distributed each Palm Sunday i.e. the Sunday before Easter) which it is today. The other offering that we had today was a gift of what is known as a ‘Miraculous’ medal. These used to be almost universally worn by Catholics in the 1950’s (i.e. during my youth) but I think this practice is rapidly dying out. The design of the medal dates from the 1830’s, apparently, and is a sign of devotion to the Virgin Mary. Lunch was a little delayed today but no sooner had it been served, than our long-standing University of Birmingham friend put in an appearance. We had previously texted each other and I knew that Meg would be delighted to see him, as indeed was I. So we had a delightful hour or perhaps even longer and we able to add a bit of flesh ono the barebones of our hospital trajectory so far. After our friend left us, Meg started to have one of her anxiety attacks but we have a variety of ways of dealing with this, one of which involved a loo visit using specialised piece of equipment know as a as a Sara Stedy. In the middle of being attended, our son and daughter-in-law turned up and we able to make preparations for the installation of the chair lift tomorrow. Our son and daughter-in-law had really set to with a vengeance and attacked some of our shrubbery that was threatening to get raoudly out of hand. and for this, I was eternally grateful. In the middle of this visit, one of my nieces phoned so, fortunately, I could leave Meg temporarily and locate myself in a corridor where I could get a reasonable reception and we were not in danger of annoying other patients and their visitors. We had a fairly long chat about how the modern NHS seems to fall over itself with the kinds of discharge protocols of which we the recipient at the moment and it was wonderful to hear from her. We both wish that we loved closer so that visits would be more feasible.
After all of our visitors had left, Meg was in a state best described as fidgety and I tried for a long time to get her in a calmer mood before I had to leave at 8.45. But the night staff which came on shift at 7.30 seem delightful and I trust that if Meg does have a disturbed night, they will deal with it sympathetically. I prefer to leave Meg either asleep or nearly asleep and it is. not a pleasant feeling leaving her when she may be rather an unsettled state. Obviously I try to reassure her that I will return at 10 in the morning but that might seem a long way off when you are suffering, as Meg does,from separation anxiety.Sunday Times, I was now in plenty of time. I decided to go to the hospital anyway which I did arriving at about 9.10 but knowing that the Ward would not normally me in until 10.00am. The normal volunteer staffed coffee bar was closed but a hospital shop was open which was equipped with a huge Costa Coffee machine that brewed a fresh cup of cafe for you but where they issued a bill which was paid for at the counter of the shop. This seemed to be quite a civilised arrangement and as I was so ridiculously early, I succumbed to the temptation of an Eccles cake which comes in the category of ‘naughty but nice’ for me. Having consumed my coffee and Eccles cake, there was a slight logistical challenge in getting to the men’s loo before the day kicked off. There was a sole middle aged male typing away at his laptop and I asked him if he could mind my hat and pile of newspapers because I didn’t want to go into the toilet with them. The toilet was in the process of being cleaned but no cleaner was evidence so I kicked the sign away and used the facilities as normal. Upon my return to the coffee lounge to retrieve my hat and newspapers, the chap busy typing away followed my example and I looked after his things whilst he went to the loo. When he returned we had an interesting snatch of conversation because it transpired that he was a crime writer and warned me that any story I might tell could end up in one his books. I reciprocated by telling him I write a blog every day and he again could feature in it. Nonetheless, I did manage to get one or two amusing anecdotes into the conversation and who knows whether they might appear in print one day. So we parted and went our various ways and I made for Ward 14. Here it appeared that Meg had had quite a reasonable night and I was relieved to see that the day staff seemed pleasant and sympathetic. One HCA (Health Care Assistant) lives only about three quarters of a mile away from using Bromsgrove so we were evidently used to the same haunts. After about half an hour, our Eucharistic Minister turned up from our local church – normally she would have visited us in our own home but when she heard of Meg’s plight, she said she would come over the hospital. As well as having our normal little services, our friend also brought us a couple of crosses made out of palms (traditional in Catholic households and distributed each Palm Sunday i.e. the Sunday before Easter) which it is today. The other offering that we had today was a gift of what is known as a ‘Miraculous’ medal. These used to be almost universally worn by Catholics in the 1950’s (i.e. during my youth) but I think this practice is rapidly dying out. The design of the medal dates from the 1830’s, apparently, and is a sign of devotion to the Virgin Mary. Lunch was a little delayed today but no sooner had it been served, than our long-standing University of Birmingham friend put in an appearance. We had previously texted each other and I knew that Meg would be delighted to see him, as indeed was I. So we had a delightful hour or perhaps even longer and we able to add a bit of flesh ono the barebones of our hospital trajectory so far. After our friend left us, Meg started to have one of her anxiety attacks but we have a variety of ways of dealing with this, one of which involved a loo visit using specialised piece of equipment know as a as a Sara Stedy. In the middle of being attended, our son and daughter-in-law turned up and we able to make preparations for the installation of the chair lift tomorrow. Our son and daughter-in-law had really set to with a vengeance and attacked some of our shrubbery that was threatening to get raoudly out of hand. and for this, I was eternally grateful. In the middle of this visit, one of my nieces phoned so, fortunately, I could leave Meg temporarily and locate myself in a corridor where I could get a reasonable reception and we were not in danger of annoying other patients and their visitors. We had a fairly long chat about how the modern NHS seems to fall over itself with the kinds of discharge protocols of which we the recipient at the moment and it was wonderful to hear from her. We both wish that we loved closer so that visits would be more feasible.
After all of our visitors had left, Meg was in a state best described as fidgety and I tried for a long time to get her in a calmer mood before I had to leave at 8.45. But the night staff which came on shift at 7.30 seem delightful and I trust that if Meg does have a disturbed night, they will deal with it sympathetically. I prefer to leave Meg either asleep or nearly asleep and it is. not a pleasant feeling leaving her when she may be rather an unsettled state. Obviously I try to reassure her that I will return at 10 in the morning but that might seem a long way off when you are suffering, as Meg does,from separation anxiety.
© Mike Hart [2024]