As a result of the myocardial perfusion imaging test, which was done at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford a couple of months ago (described in great detail in an earlier blog post on here.) I have been booked in to have a second stent fitted next Wednesday, 12th December. I have to be at the hospital for 7.30a.m., and I'm being taken by someone from church who has kindly offered to drive me there. I couldn't have driven myself, for one thing, I don't think the stress of the journey there at that hour would help, and, secondly, I wouldn't be able to drive back home because of having a local anaesthetic as well as other drugs and the possibility of the wound that would be made when the stent was fitted. I had a telephone call from the hospital yesterday morning to tell me I'm on the morning list, which means the procedure should be done at some stage during that morning. I have to remain in bed for at least two hours afterwards and can then be discharged. I did wonder whether I would need to stay in hospital overnight, but not this time, fortunately.
As with this sort of thing, it's the waiting which is the worst part. I don't generally like needles, giving blood and all that sort of thing. I have explained things regarding this in an earlier blog post. When I had my second heart attack in early September this year, I was rushed off to the John Radcliffe and there was talk of 'stents' on the ambulance as we drove at speed towards Oxford, but at that time I didn't really think of what was going to happen. Little did I realise, once I arrived, I would be in the operating theatre (I don't think it's actually referred to as that, but never mind) and having a stent inserted in a vein in my right arm. Not a lot of time to think about it, really and truly.
It's been a really wet and windy day today. I took Alfie out for his walk as usual, but I had to put my waterproof jacket with hood on before venturing forth. It had been kept in the back of the car for such an eventuality, so I had to nip out and get it before taking Alfie out. We didn't do the full circuit of Eaglestone Park, because he was getting soaked (not surprisingly), so I decided to cut across the park and make a short-cut back home. He shook himself, as dogs do, to try and get rid of the rain from his coat.
Carol not in a good state when I visited her this morning. (Friday) She's given so much pain relief that she's really out of things a lot of the time. I helped give her breakfast, which was porridge. I would never have believed that I would be feeding my wife in a care home bed. I have mentioned in some of these posts how I worked as a Support Worker for people with learning disabilities, working mostly in homes around Bedfordshire, mainly those run by the N.H.S. as well as being a Home Carer in and around Milton Keynes, but it would never have occurred to me that I would be caring for my wife in such an environment as that. I don't think that she even knew I was there this morning. She was talking some of the time, but not a lot of it was exactly lucid. She was going on about 'The Boys.' I thought she meant her sons, Daniel and Sam, but then I thought, perhaps she means Eddie and George, our grandchildren. She thought they were visiting, but they're not scheduled to visit. She wasn't sure what time it was, and forgot she had breakfast. This whole situation is really difficult. She prefers to lie on her left side, which had been decided when she was at Willen Hospice, but for some reason at Castlemead, the carers had her in bed, lying flat on her back. I said that I didn't want to mention this, but I had to when they came into the room and so they managed to roll her onto her left side, with pillows to prop her up. They told me that they were only doing what Carol wanted, but it seemed to me that at the moment she was really unable to explain properly. Not that I want to interfere but I do want her to have the best or at least what will make her more comfortable. I know that they've managed to get the pain under control, but do at least make sure she's comfortable in bed. She wanted to get out, which she had done at Willen, and managed to sit on the edge of her bed and, with some help, walk a short distance around the bed. But a nurse came in and said that she ought to stay in bed.
As with this sort of thing, it's the waiting which is the worst part. I don't generally like needles, giving blood and all that sort of thing. I have explained things regarding this in an earlier blog post. When I had my second heart attack in early September this year, I was rushed off to the John Radcliffe and there was talk of 'stents' on the ambulance as we drove at speed towards Oxford, but at that time I didn't really think of what was going to happen. Little did I realise, once I arrived, I would be in the operating theatre (I don't think it's actually referred to as that, but never mind) and having a stent inserted in a vein in my right arm. Not a lot of time to think about it, really and truly.
It's been a really wet and windy day today. I took Alfie out for his walk as usual, but I had to put my waterproof jacket with hood on before venturing forth. It had been kept in the back of the car for such an eventuality, so I had to nip out and get it before taking Alfie out. We didn't do the full circuit of Eaglestone Park, because he was getting soaked (not surprisingly), so I decided to cut across the park and make a short-cut back home. He shook himself, as dogs do, to try and get rid of the rain from his coat.
Carol not in a good state when I visited her this morning. (Friday) She's given so much pain relief that she's really out of things a lot of the time. I helped give her breakfast, which was porridge. I would never have believed that I would be feeding my wife in a care home bed. I have mentioned in some of these posts how I worked as a Support Worker for people with learning disabilities, working mostly in homes around Bedfordshire, mainly those run by the N.H.S. as well as being a Home Carer in and around Milton Keynes, but it would never have occurred to me that I would be caring for my wife in such an environment as that. I don't think that she even knew I was there this morning. She was talking some of the time, but not a lot of it was exactly lucid. She was going on about 'The Boys.' I thought she meant her sons, Daniel and Sam, but then I thought, perhaps she means Eddie and George, our grandchildren. She thought they were visiting, but they're not scheduled to visit. She wasn't sure what time it was, and forgot she had breakfast. This whole situation is really difficult. She prefers to lie on her left side, which had been decided when she was at Willen Hospice, but for some reason at Castlemead, the carers had her in bed, lying flat on her back. I said that I didn't want to mention this, but I had to when they came into the room and so they managed to roll her onto her left side, with pillows to prop her up. They told me that they were only doing what Carol wanted, but it seemed to me that at the moment she was really unable to explain properly. Not that I want to interfere but I do want her to have the best or at least what will make her more comfortable. I know that they've managed to get the pain under control, but do at least make sure she's comfortable in bed. She wanted to get out, which she had done at Willen, and managed to sit on the edge of her bed and, with some help, walk a short distance around the bed. But a nurse came in and said that she ought to stay in bed.
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