It's a bright and sunny morning, but the weather is forecast to become really cold with snow in some areas of the country. So, there's really no excuse for the trains to be delayed, the motorways to become blocked and the country to, generally, grind to a halt. I think it's going to be considerably colder than it has been of late. The car is ice-free when I looked out of the kitchen window earlier.
We had to drive to Ashfield Medical Centre to collect the revised medical certificate for Carol. It was busy as I queued at the reception desk. It took a relatively long time before I actually reached the desk and got what I'd come for. Then, at the point when we were about to leave the carpark outside there was a blockage because someone insisted on not moving out of the way to make my exit straightforward.
Then we drive straight to the hospital and the oncology suite. The carpark immediately behind the unit is full, so I have no choice but to drop off Carol and the drive back towards the front of the hospital and park in the ground level carpark there. I'm fortunate in finding a space immediacy inside the carpark and then walk back around the hospital campus to join Carol in the oncology suite. We've become well organised with each visit, bringing a bag from Waitrose (one of those 'for life' bags.) which contains the MacBook Air which this is being written on, as well as a couple of books and snacks. Carol is ensconced in a corner, and by 11.15 she has had her blood pressure taken. A perfect reading. It is relatively peaceful and there aren't that many other patients in the unit this morning. Carol says she's hungry. We eat a couple of Club biscuits. Those rather nice treats which have a thick layer of chocolate on them. These have a slight minty flavour. I make Carol some frothy coffee. We bought her Waitrose reusable coffee mug with us along with a sachet of Nescafé latte which I take to the kitchen in the suite and make it up using hot water from the drinks trolley. You can make your own tea and coffee as required, although we often go to the hospital restaurant to have Costa coffee or at the Costa shop near the hospital entrance., although it's a long walk to visit that.
I've finished the book 'Watling Street' by John Higgs. A bit of a disappointment. Something of a curate's egg. Good in parts. Then I read one of the Sherlock Holmes short stories from the annotated set. This one was 'The Naval Treaty,' and then 'The Final Problem' which is the one where Conan-Doyal 'kills off' Holmes at the Reichenbach Falls. It's written in such a way which leaves it unclear as to what actually happened. Did Holmes die, having been in a struggle to the death with Professor Moriarty? It's definitely inconclusive. Actually a bit of a disappointment. Conan-Doyle obviously wanted to be done with Holmes. He had other irons in the fire with other writing. But it's left open at the end, no doubt with the intention to possibly bring back Holmes in more stories, which he does after around eight years.
Carol is now on the first drip, which is glucose, which takes an hour, and then the actual chemotherapy which lasts two hours.
I've started reading Alan Bennett's latest book, 'Keeping On, Keeping On.' Having read his earlier books, it seemed a must to read the latest work. I've been a fan or his work for years, first coming across his plays on BBC television in the 1970s.
I went to the Friends' Shop to buy us both rolls for our lunch. These rolls are wrapped in such a way that they are virtually impossible to get into. The iced buns in such a way that the icing comes of on the inside of the very noisy cellophane wrapping. But they're a necessity as we get quite hungry as we sit in the oncology department for around three hours or so.
It's generally quiet in the oncology suite today, apart from the pumps which deliver the chemotherapy and the occasional 'bleeping'of their alarms which is to alert the nurses to the fact that one or other of these machines needs attention, a blockage or something wrong. Little green lights that appear to move along to show the machines are working, but then the bleeping noise and red lights to indicate that these things are working as they should.
I'm writing this as I sit with Carol in the oncology department. One of the advantages of having free wi-fi within the hospital campus. It means that what I write is more what I'd term 'free-form' as I'm writing 'live,' rather from memory, which this blog post would be if I wrote it later and from memory.
Carol eventually set up with the chemotherapy, so it's a good two hours as it goes through. Then, at the end, they do a flush to clear the line she has in her arm and then she's set up with a pump which she has for a couple of days and then comes back on Wednesday to have to removed.
When we had got home there was a card stuck in the door. We'd had two parcels delivered. I knew one had been delivered because I'd had an email which I had read when we were in the oncology suite and I had the laptop connected to the wifi. I had ordered a brand new Kindle from Amazon and it was due to be delivered today. It had apparently been received 'by the resident' as the email said. I couldn't have been, as I wasn't at home. It had been put in the bin cupboard. Rather precarious, even though the door was well and truly shut. There was second card, which was on the floor inside the house near the letter box. Carol has a subscription to an art part-work and several of the books, on various artists, had arrived and had been left in the bin cupboard along with the Amazon parcel. Both parcels were opened and the contents either read, or, in the case of the new Kindle, set up and charged.
We had to drive to Ashfield Medical Centre to collect the revised medical certificate for Carol. It was busy as I queued at the reception desk. It took a relatively long time before I actually reached the desk and got what I'd come for. Then, at the point when we were about to leave the carpark outside there was a blockage because someone insisted on not moving out of the way to make my exit straightforward.
Then we drive straight to the hospital and the oncology suite. The carpark immediately behind the unit is full, so I have no choice but to drop off Carol and the drive back towards the front of the hospital and park in the ground level carpark there. I'm fortunate in finding a space immediacy inside the carpark and then walk back around the hospital campus to join Carol in the oncology suite. We've become well organised with each visit, bringing a bag from Waitrose (one of those 'for life' bags.) which contains the MacBook Air which this is being written on, as well as a couple of books and snacks. Carol is ensconced in a corner, and by 11.15 she has had her blood pressure taken. A perfect reading. It is relatively peaceful and there aren't that many other patients in the unit this morning. Carol says she's hungry. We eat a couple of Club biscuits. Those rather nice treats which have a thick layer of chocolate on them. These have a slight minty flavour. I make Carol some frothy coffee. We bought her Waitrose reusable coffee mug with us along with a sachet of Nescafé latte which I take to the kitchen in the suite and make it up using hot water from the drinks trolley. You can make your own tea and coffee as required, although we often go to the hospital restaurant to have Costa coffee or at the Costa shop near the hospital entrance., although it's a long walk to visit that.
I've finished the book 'Watling Street' by John Higgs. A bit of a disappointment. Something of a curate's egg. Good in parts. Then I read one of the Sherlock Holmes short stories from the annotated set. This one was 'The Naval Treaty,' and then 'The Final Problem' which is the one where Conan-Doyal 'kills off' Holmes at the Reichenbach Falls. It's written in such a way which leaves it unclear as to what actually happened. Did Holmes die, having been in a struggle to the death with Professor Moriarty? It's definitely inconclusive. Actually a bit of a disappointment. Conan-Doyle obviously wanted to be done with Holmes. He had other irons in the fire with other writing. But it's left open at the end, no doubt with the intention to possibly bring back Holmes in more stories, which he does after around eight years.
Carol is now on the first drip, which is glucose, which takes an hour, and then the actual chemotherapy which lasts two hours.
I've started reading Alan Bennett's latest book, 'Keeping On, Keeping On.' Having read his earlier books, it seemed a must to read the latest work. I've been a fan or his work for years, first coming across his plays on BBC television in the 1970s.
I went to the Friends' Shop to buy us both rolls for our lunch. These rolls are wrapped in such a way that they are virtually impossible to get into. The iced buns in such a way that the icing comes of on the inside of the very noisy cellophane wrapping. But they're a necessity as we get quite hungry as we sit in the oncology department for around three hours or so.
It's generally quiet in the oncology suite today, apart from the pumps which deliver the chemotherapy and the occasional 'bleeping'of their alarms which is to alert the nurses to the fact that one or other of these machines needs attention, a blockage or something wrong. Little green lights that appear to move along to show the machines are working, but then the bleeping noise and red lights to indicate that these things are working as they should.
I'm writing this as I sit with Carol in the oncology department. One of the advantages of having free wi-fi within the hospital campus. It means that what I write is more what I'd term 'free-form' as I'm writing 'live,' rather from memory, which this blog post would be if I wrote it later and from memory.
Carol eventually set up with the chemotherapy, so it's a good two hours as it goes through. Then, at the end, they do a flush to clear the line she has in her arm and then she's set up with a pump which she has for a couple of days and then comes back on Wednesday to have to removed.
When we had got home there was a card stuck in the door. We'd had two parcels delivered. I knew one had been delivered because I'd had an email which I had read when we were in the oncology suite and I had the laptop connected to the wifi. I had ordered a brand new Kindle from Amazon and it was due to be delivered today. It had apparently been received 'by the resident' as the email said. I couldn't have been, as I wasn't at home. It had been put in the bin cupboard. Rather precarious, even though the door was well and truly shut. There was second card, which was on the floor inside the house near the letter box. Carol has a subscription to an art part-work and several of the books, on various artists, had arrived and had been left in the bin cupboard along with the Amazon parcel. Both parcels were opened and the contents either read, or, in the case of the new Kindle, set up and charged.
No comments:
Post a Comment