Saturday. Most of the day it's been sunny, but it's actually a good deal cooler. We've had wind and as I write this blog post, it's raining. Certainly it's a good deal more bearable than it has been for the past couple of weeks. We've gone from scorching hot to wind and rain in a mere few hours. It just goes to show how weather changes so rapidly in such a short space of time in England. Mind you, it must be frustrating for some people, who've just started their summer holidays. You've waited months and months, booked your holiday, it's been hot and sunny for weeks on end, you haven't been able to enjoy it because your either at work, school or college, then, no sooner have you broken up for the summer, than the weather changes completely, rain, wind, cold and miserable. Annoying, to say the least.
Around 10.15 the telephone rings. I think, O.K., that will be our landlord. I rush to the telephone. We don't get that many telephone calls, not on the landline telephone. It's a woman's voice, not the landlord, or this wife. I don't recognise the voice. It's the nurse who's coming to give Carol the antibiotics. She's outside the house, in her car. She asks, have we got a dog? I say, yes, she says, can the dog be put in another room? I say yes. I manage to get Alfie into the kitchen and shut the door so he can't get into the sitting room. I open the front door and look out and see a car drawn up across the entrance to our drive. I see there is someone inside, sitting in the driver's seat. She waves at me. It's the nurse. She gets out of the car and comes towards the house and comes inside. She introduces herself and then says hello to Carol and me. She sits on my armchair and I sit on the footstool near the bookcase. Carol is on the sofa. She has to do an assessment. She has to ask no end of questions before she can proceed with the antibiotics. I have to find a coat hanger. I have no idea what it's for, so I go upstairs to our bedroom and find a wire one in the wardrobe and come back downstairs to the sitting room. The nurse goes through the bags of medication and the boxes of things that we were given when we left Ward 22.
Alfie doesn't much like being shut in the kitchen. He scratches on the door between the sitting room and the kitchen. The nurse says she is scared of dogs, that's why she had to make sure our dog, poor little Alfie, was out of the way, in another room, with the door shut. I can understand not everyone likes dogs. They don't have to like them. I think she must have had a nasty experience with a dog or dogs, sometime in her past. Perhaps she was bitten. I don't know and I don't ask. I can imagine you might encounter plenty of dogs when you are doing her sort of job, going to people's homes. Rather like I used to do when I worked for Guardian as a home carer. Infact, the manager of the operation used to do similar assessments of the 'end-users' or 'clients' as we called them, to make sure they were getting the best care packages that the agency could give, no doubt more likely, for the budget they were given.
The nurse used the coat hanger for a drip, putting a plastic bottle of saline solution on it and then hung from the light shade which is conveniently above where Carol was sitting, connected to a clear plastic tube that is then connected to the P.I.C.C. line in Carol's arm. It takes about 15 minutes to run. This has to be done before the antibiotics can be injected using a hypodermic. Once this is done, everything is packed up. We were given a yellow 'sharps' bucket which all sharp objects, such a s used hypodermic needles are placed after use. The whole visit lasted around 45-50 minutes. All very efficient and organised. I have to go upstairs and bring down one of the drawers from the unit Carol bought for all her stoma equipment which is in the bathroom, between the toilet and the sink. Downstairs the nurse puts much of the stuff she will be using when she visits in it and then it's put on the red IKEA table we have between the sofa and my armchair. The nurse fills in all the paperwork which goes with the visit, much like I had to do when I'd finished a 'call' when I worked for Guardian Homecare. The visit is then over and the nurse leaves.
Sunday. It's raining. Thank goodness it's not so hot. Considerably cooler. The rain will revive the grass around here. It was the first thing Carol commented on when we left the hospital on Friday evening. All along the sides of the grid roads around Milton Keynes the grass has become just brown and shrivelled, dried up by the sun. How quickly will it return to green? Probably not long. Alfie is expecting to be taken for a walk, but at 7 o'clock in the morning Carol is fast asleep upstairs and I don't want him making a noise as he's likely to if I even hint at getting ready to go out for a walk. It will just wake her up. We can go out later, when I get back from church.
When I get back from Shenley Christian Fellowship at around 11.15, Carol is still waiting for the nurse to come for the daily visit and give her the antibiotics. Alfie is already shut in the kitchen. He obviously doesn't like it. He scratches on the door. The nurse (I'm not sure she isn't a District Nurse. She obviously does the job of one, or perhaps she's called a Community Nurse. It's not the same one who came yesterday morning. They are scheduled to come between 11.30 and 1.00 p.m., or thereabouts. She's here not as long as yesterday, basically because she hasn't got to do the assessment. It's over within about 30 minutes.
Around 10.15 the telephone rings. I think, O.K., that will be our landlord. I rush to the telephone. We don't get that many telephone calls, not on the landline telephone. It's a woman's voice, not the landlord, or this wife. I don't recognise the voice. It's the nurse who's coming to give Carol the antibiotics. She's outside the house, in her car. She asks, have we got a dog? I say, yes, she says, can the dog be put in another room? I say yes. I manage to get Alfie into the kitchen and shut the door so he can't get into the sitting room. I open the front door and look out and see a car drawn up across the entrance to our drive. I see there is someone inside, sitting in the driver's seat. She waves at me. It's the nurse. She gets out of the car and comes towards the house and comes inside. She introduces herself and then says hello to Carol and me. She sits on my armchair and I sit on the footstool near the bookcase. Carol is on the sofa. She has to do an assessment. She has to ask no end of questions before she can proceed with the antibiotics. I have to find a coat hanger. I have no idea what it's for, so I go upstairs to our bedroom and find a wire one in the wardrobe and come back downstairs to the sitting room. The nurse goes through the bags of medication and the boxes of things that we were given when we left Ward 22.
Alfie doesn't much like being shut in the kitchen. He scratches on the door between the sitting room and the kitchen. The nurse says she is scared of dogs, that's why she had to make sure our dog, poor little Alfie, was out of the way, in another room, with the door shut. I can understand not everyone likes dogs. They don't have to like them. I think she must have had a nasty experience with a dog or dogs, sometime in her past. Perhaps she was bitten. I don't know and I don't ask. I can imagine you might encounter plenty of dogs when you are doing her sort of job, going to people's homes. Rather like I used to do when I worked for Guardian as a home carer. Infact, the manager of the operation used to do similar assessments of the 'end-users' or 'clients' as we called them, to make sure they were getting the best care packages that the agency could give, no doubt more likely, for the budget they were given.
The nurse used the coat hanger for a drip, putting a plastic bottle of saline solution on it and then hung from the light shade which is conveniently above where Carol was sitting, connected to a clear plastic tube that is then connected to the P.I.C.C. line in Carol's arm. It takes about 15 minutes to run. This has to be done before the antibiotics can be injected using a hypodermic. Once this is done, everything is packed up. We were given a yellow 'sharps' bucket which all sharp objects, such a s used hypodermic needles are placed after use. The whole visit lasted around 45-50 minutes. All very efficient and organised. I have to go upstairs and bring down one of the drawers from the unit Carol bought for all her stoma equipment which is in the bathroom, between the toilet and the sink. Downstairs the nurse puts much of the stuff she will be using when she visits in it and then it's put on the red IKEA table we have between the sofa and my armchair. The nurse fills in all the paperwork which goes with the visit, much like I had to do when I'd finished a 'call' when I worked for Guardian Homecare. The visit is then over and the nurse leaves.
Sunday. It's raining. Thank goodness it's not so hot. Considerably cooler. The rain will revive the grass around here. It was the first thing Carol commented on when we left the hospital on Friday evening. All along the sides of the grid roads around Milton Keynes the grass has become just brown and shrivelled, dried up by the sun. How quickly will it return to green? Probably not long. Alfie is expecting to be taken for a walk, but at 7 o'clock in the morning Carol is fast asleep upstairs and I don't want him making a noise as he's likely to if I even hint at getting ready to go out for a walk. It will just wake her up. We can go out later, when I get back from church.
When I get back from Shenley Christian Fellowship at around 11.15, Carol is still waiting for the nurse to come for the daily visit and give her the antibiotics. Alfie is already shut in the kitchen. He obviously doesn't like it. He scratches on the door. The nurse (I'm not sure she isn't a District Nurse. She obviously does the job of one, or perhaps she's called a Community Nurse. It's not the same one who came yesterday morning. They are scheduled to come between 11.30 and 1.00 p.m., or thereabouts. She's here not as long as yesterday, basically because she hasn't got to do the assessment. It's over within about 30 minutes.
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