As I write this, at 6.30 a.m., it's not bright sunshine. Well, probably not so early, as I don't expect the sun has risen long. As a result I thought I'd take Alfie out for a walk. I say 'walk', as he hardly walks, he runs like a little hare, darting off ahead of me and stopping to investigate every tree, blade of grass or twig and then running back to me, yapping noisily. I was determined to more than one circuit of the park as I wanted to see how many extra steps my gadget would register. As I look I can see it reads 1998. I am quite out of breath and I had a slight twinge of angina, but nothing too bad and my G.T.N. spray helped to relieve things. I certainly don't let it stop me going out with Alfie.
The glass has been removed from part of the Redway that passes through the park. As we walked (in Alfie's case, running.) round the other side, along near some houses which overlook the park, I saw a tent in amongst the trees. It makes me wonder who on earth would be camping in the park.
Carol is still on Ward 22. It's over week since we went to Ashfield Medical Centre and we then had to go into the hospital and ending up on the Acute Ward, Ward 1. She has been put on a second type of antibiotics which has to be administered by syringe in the stomach. When I was in hospital myself, some of my medication was administered in this way.
Carol's temperature and blood sugar levels are going up and down, but they seem to be levelling out considerably.
I haven't been writing any more blog posts for the past couple of days. They are becoming very repetitive. Some days there's simply not enough to fill a decent post, so I decided to leave off writing anything.
It's another hot day. I'm annoyed by the Council bin men. (Is that their correct title? Dusbin men is perhaps a bit out of date. Refuse collection operatives? I don't know the correct name.) Anyway, Wednesday is our rubbish collection day, as I've more than likely mentioned in earlier posts. You are supposed to sort your recycling into a pink bag (for some reason they have stopped supplying pink bags and we now get grey ones. What is all that about? Why the change of colour to dull grey?) Then you must put these bags (black ones for other unrecyclable rubbish.) to the edge of your property, in our case, to the road-edge so the dustmen can collect them when they come, sometime after 7 a.m. Unfortunately, plastic bags are susceptible to being attacked by cats and birds, usually magpies and crows, which live in and around this estate. If the bags are opened as they would be by a bird or a cat, the contents are spilled out onto the roadside and the lawn at the front of our house. I came back on Wednesday afternoon to find all manner of refuse left from the rubbish bags. Which was unsightly and positively annoying. I don't think the Council has much common sense in this regard, because if these bags were inside wheely bins, they wouldn't be attacked by animals and birds, plastic bags are far too easily torn open and the rubbish to spill out.
Life on a hospital can become somewhat monotonous, as you would expect. The same sort of routine day after day. Ward 22 is busy. The patients come and go. Not as much as they do on Ward 1.
Carol's been told that she should be able to be discharged today (Friday). Her temperature and blood sugar levels need to remain stable before she can go home. On Friday morning, at about 1 a.m., she was given a sleeping tablet so on Thursday she was extremely sleepy. Understandable, really. When I arrived at the entrance to Ward 22 at just after 10 o'clock yesterday morning I was met by Carol, in a wheelchair, being pushed by a porter. She was on her way to having another M.R.I. scan, the unit only a very short ride from the ward. I had to sit and wait in the waiting area as the scan took around 40 minutes.
The glass has been removed from part of the Redway that passes through the park. As we walked (in Alfie's case, running.) round the other side, along near some houses which overlook the park, I saw a tent in amongst the trees. It makes me wonder who on earth would be camping in the park.
Carol is still on Ward 22. It's over week since we went to Ashfield Medical Centre and we then had to go into the hospital and ending up on the Acute Ward, Ward 1. She has been put on a second type of antibiotics which has to be administered by syringe in the stomach. When I was in hospital myself, some of my medication was administered in this way.
Carol's temperature and blood sugar levels are going up and down, but they seem to be levelling out considerably.
I haven't been writing any more blog posts for the past couple of days. They are becoming very repetitive. Some days there's simply not enough to fill a decent post, so I decided to leave off writing anything.
It's another hot day. I'm annoyed by the Council bin men. (Is that their correct title? Dusbin men is perhaps a bit out of date. Refuse collection operatives? I don't know the correct name.) Anyway, Wednesday is our rubbish collection day, as I've more than likely mentioned in earlier posts. You are supposed to sort your recycling into a pink bag (for some reason they have stopped supplying pink bags and we now get grey ones. What is all that about? Why the change of colour to dull grey?) Then you must put these bags (black ones for other unrecyclable rubbish.) to the edge of your property, in our case, to the road-edge so the dustmen can collect them when they come, sometime after 7 a.m. Unfortunately, plastic bags are susceptible to being attacked by cats and birds, usually magpies and crows, which live in and around this estate. If the bags are opened as they would be by a bird or a cat, the contents are spilled out onto the roadside and the lawn at the front of our house. I came back on Wednesday afternoon to find all manner of refuse left from the rubbish bags. Which was unsightly and positively annoying. I don't think the Council has much common sense in this regard, because if these bags were inside wheely bins, they wouldn't be attacked by animals and birds, plastic bags are far too easily torn open and the rubbish to spill out.
Life on a hospital can become somewhat monotonous, as you would expect. The same sort of routine day after day. Ward 22 is busy. The patients come and go. Not as much as they do on Ward 1.
Carol's been told that she should be able to be discharged today (Friday). Her temperature and blood sugar levels need to remain stable before she can go home. On Friday morning, at about 1 a.m., she was given a sleeping tablet so on Thursday she was extremely sleepy. Understandable, really. When I arrived at the entrance to Ward 22 at just after 10 o'clock yesterday morning I was met by Carol, in a wheelchair, being pushed by a porter. She was on her way to having another M.R.I. scan, the unit only a very short ride from the ward. I had to sit and wait in the waiting area as the scan took around 40 minutes.
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