Hospital and (possible) Film Work!

(Thursday) I had an appointment in the scanning department at Milton Keynes University Hospital at 1.30p.m. I had a letter around a month ago informing me of the appointment, and then yesterday someone rang me to find out whether I was attending. I knew I was due a second appointment, as I had one back in around September and was told that I should have a second scan in early 2021. My first consideration was the ability to park. I left in plenty of time and fortunately there was more than enough space to park, probably due to the fact that, due to the pandemic, there are limitations on numbers of visitors. Then I had the long walk along the infamous corridor, with memories of visiting Carol. I got to the scanning department (somewhere Carol had to visit to have several M.R.I. scans.) and I had to report to the receptionist. Everything where there is some sort of contact with staff you come across grass screens and when I was asked my name the lady on the reception desk could barely hear me, due to having a face covering on and having the glass screen. Anything to make life easier of course. Every other seat had a huge 'X' on it, to make sure people didn't forget about social distancing. It made me think of when they marked houses with similar marks during the Middle Ages, where a house where someone with the Black Death had either got the plague or else had died. The receptionist suggested I leave and come back later (trust me to arrive to early, but what with parking the car and then having to walk to the scanning department I was only making sure I was on time.) But, as I could see one vacant seat, I decided to sit there and wait for my name to be called. The actual scan took no more than five minutes, so I was out of the department and walking back to the car a good deal quicker than I expected.

(Good Friday- Morning) Yet another bright and mild morning.

4.30p.m. I have had several 'bites,' if that's the right word, to do television/film walk-on work, but none have actually yielded any real work, unfortunately. There was no point mentioning unless they came off anything. You get 'put forward' for things, but then the agency just responds later with 'sorry, you weren't selected.' So I have hopes that a text I got this afternoon might turn the tide. It's for a television series being shot in this area, between Pinewood Studios, Aylesbury and Oxford, so not too far to drive (if it comes off.) But if I get selected I will have to go for a costume fitting and have a haircut (it's supposed to be set during World War 2, so it's likely to be extremely short cut to fit the period.) I also have to have two covid-19 tests , (for which I get paid, incidentally.) and the filming is done with all social distancing protocols in place. Just have to wait what happens next. I really hope it does, because I really enjoy being on a set, the excitement and comradary you find with being with like-minded people and then seeing how it all comes together. And on top of that, the food you get, which is usually excellent. You can say that it's something of a bonus, having a meal which you don't have to pay for!

Hospital Visit

(Friday) I've been to visit one of the leadership team from Shenley Christian Fellowship, who is currently in Milton Keynes Hospital with some sort of leg infection. I have him on Facebook and he's taken a photograph to show the extent of the infection, and how his leg has blown up (if that's the right way to describe it.) and not looking nice. As it's such a short walk to the hospital, I decided to walk, thus making it easier because I wouldn't have to drive and then find a space to park the car. I found out he was in ward 22 and had a vague recollection where it was, because it was one of the wards Carol was on at some stage or other. Once there, I totally forgot where it was, thinking it was up the stairs when you enter from near the Cardiology department, but then, having enquired of a member of staff, that it's not actually in the main building, but on it's own, nor a short walk from the cafeteria and the shop. It then dawned on me that it was close to the M.R.I. scan unit. as far as I remember, just over the fire road (called, presumably, because that would be where fire engines would come in if the hospital caught fire.) and close to the courtyard which was set up with tables with umbrellas on them and where they had a barbecue last year, as part of the 70th Anniversary of the foundation of the N.H.S., and a BBC television crew set up cameras to interview staff and shown on Look East, live that evening, a day when I went to see Carol on Ward 22 and during that exceptionally hot summer we had last year. Ward 22 is upstairs and on the ground floor is the Endoscopy department, where Carol had to go for a scan at the beginning of the process which eventually gave the diagnosis that she had bowel cancer. Not the best memory to have, but still part of the same story, unfortunately.

I went up the stairs to the ward entrance and had to press the button beside the door to gain entrance. I think it has a camera on it so that staff on reception can see who's wanting to enter. I had to press several times before someone came to let me in, I think one of the doctors.

I had no idea where on ward 22 Danny was. It's not like a general ward, where you have patients in a sort of communal area, each with curtains that pull round on a track whenever you need privacy, a bedside chest for your personal belongings and a table on wheels that moves up and down and on which you have your meals. But on this ward there are separate rooms, some single, but a couple, like the one Carol was on, had four beds, and they had the use of their own bathroom and toilet (which I soon discovered I wasn't supposed to use, something to do with cross-infection, although I could use a toilet on the main body of the ward.) As I walked along the corridor, hoping to find the nurse's station, which is usually central to any hospital ward, and which is where there is usually a receptionist and ward administrator/manager, and where the door to the ward is opened when you press the door button outside in the corridor, I came upon the doctor who cared for Carol and was responsible for her pain control. Doctor Ben, but I don't remember his surname. A very easy to talk to young man and very good at his job, and was seen on occasion when Carol was in Willen Hospice.

He turned to me and spent some time chatting to me. It was obvious that he knew of Carol's passing, well, he would have known, working as he did at Willen and spending a lot of time with us, trying to get Carol's awful pain under control, which was the main reason she went into Willen Hospice. I can talk about this now, write it on here, but only a few months ago, I would have found writing this extremely traumatic, but actually, but writing about it now, it's sort of therapeutic. He asked me how I was coping, and I said that it was a sort of roller-coaster ride, up and down, at the moment, more down. I told him I had been prescribed medication to help me sleep, and was currently on Diazepam which was helping me calm down as well as sleep, but that I was getting panic attacks (I don't know why.) and was caused mostly because of being messed around my various government departments regarding benefits and also, not having my rent paid in full by Housing Benefit. He asked me if I was getting any support. I said I had been to Willen and had some bereavement counselling, but it had finished because the lady who counselled me didn't think I needed any further support. I said that I had been to Macmillan to see the counsellor there, but I was told what the Willen lady had said and that I was moving forward, especially with my volunteering at Camphill. He told me that I should go back to my doctor as the N.H.S. should have some sort of support for me in my situation. Perhaps going back to get support from Willen Hospice might be part of the answer. I'll have to wait and see.

I wasn't sure exactly which room Danny was in, so Dr Ben asked a nurse, who wasn't sure and had to consult a list, but eventually we discovered which room it was. I walked round the ward, which is so much quieter than the average ward. I remember when I was in hospital after my first heart attack in 2006, on the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit) at Bedford Hospital, there was a corridor which passed more or less straight through the ward, and, even in the middle of the night, you'd get people walking through, almost always talking at full volume, and then there was a noisy refrigeration unit on the roof outside the window which made the most awful sounds all through the night. And on top of that you had new patients being bought in, on beds usually, and the nurses weren't exactly quiet.

I was directed to Danny's room. A single room. His wife Chris was there, but no sign of Danny. He was in the bathroom. For some strange and totally unaccountable reason he couldn't open the door. If it would have been me I would have been stressed, because the thought of being trapped in a room with a door which I couldn't open wouldn't be a pleasant experience. I don't like enclosed spaces at the best of times, but being stuck in a bathroom or toilet when the door doesn't unlock would be my worst nightmare. Most N.H.S. facilities, usually toilets, have similar locks which are usually easy enough to open (I recall the bathroom when I worked as a Support Worker at Country Cottage in Everton, part of the N.H.S. Learning Disabilities Service, where the bathroom had similar locks to those in the hospital and all the equipment, grab-rails, waste bins with that strange mechanism that you weren't supposed to push down with your hand and coloured yellow, even the taps and shower units and flooring were the same.) so I had a vague idea how to get out, even if it meant pulling the red cord which would call a nurse to your assistance. Then suddenly Danny appeared, but not from the door into the main room. I presumed there was a second door which opened out into either the corridor or the adjoining room. He looked pained. The leg which is causing so much trouble, probably an infection, is bound up with bandages but it's a bright red, from what you can see. He looked in real pain and managed to get to the bed and lie on it. But in these wards there are never enough chairs. Usually a high-backed one with padding for the patient, but visitors get to sit on plastic chairs. They may be one in the room, but if more visitors come then you have to hunt them down, usually stacked elsewhere on the ward. I remember several years ago, when I had a brief stay in hospital, following a rather prolonged angina attack which meant I had to remain in hospital for a couple of days, Carol needed to sit down and sat on the bed. Just never do that! It's against the rules. There was a very officious woman of indeterminate age (I think her role was probably ward administrator, but I'm not sure, but she might have been a volunteer.) Carol got told off for sitting on the bed and when she started reading my notes (which were kept in a folder in a slot at the end of the bed, she got even more of a telling-off! Even though we were husband and wife, she wasn't supposed to look at my notes, which could have been read by anyone who came on the ward. Now, with new computerised technology, all notes are stored on a computer system (which was being started up whilst Carol was in hospital.) so it would now be very difficult for anyone without the relevant password to get into such personal and sensitive material. All patients, when being admitted to a ward, has to have a paper wrist band put on, which shows your name, date of birth and has a bar code which is read by a scanner when a  nurse comes to do your 'Obs,' or gives out your medication.

Several nurses came in to do the various checks, to do the obligatory 'Obs,' give medications and check Danny's leg, which looks redder and as painful as ever. All these checks done by technology. Then Carline Swann arrived, another member of S.C.F., who I have seen in church but have not had an opportunity to speak to. She seems to know a great deal about nursing and care (not sure what her job is exactly.) and as a result of her arrival another chair was required. Another difficulty of these small rooms, never enough space when you have several visitors requiring seating. And those plastic chairs which are in all these wards for visitors, made of plastic and not as comfortable as they might be. I think they have them as they would be easier to clean for hygiene purposes, but you begin to slip off the seat after a while. So, by this time it was my time to leave and bade farewell, just hoping and praying that Danny's leg heals soon so he can leave hospital and return to his home.

Difficult Post

I haven't posted on here for well over a week, which, if you are a regular reader of my ramblings in this blog, will not have surprised you. The reason is that my lovely wife, Carol, passed away on 11th December. The last 18 months or so have been a really traumatic journey, from the original diagnosis, through 12 completed cycles of chemotherapy, the infection she got after the final chemo cycle, the hospitals stays (I've lost count of how many she had.), but throughout I have gone with her for each consultants appointment, chemo cycle in the oncology department at Milton Keynes University Hospital, consultant's appointments at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford, Endoscopy, M.R.I. and as  well as C.T. scans, then to Willen Hospice and finally, Castlemead Court in Newport Pagnell.

I have been supported throughout all this by members of Shenley Christian Fellowship, particularly our Pastor, Ross Dilnot, who was with me on the morning of Carol's death. He came with me when I went to the Registry Office to register the death, which we did last Friday morning and then to Mason's, the undertaker's in Newport Pagnell to arrange the funeral, which will be at 2 p.m. on 11th January at Crownhill Crematorium.

I was supposed to have had a second stent fitted the following day, 12th December, at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford. I was driven there by Tim O'Brien who is a member of S.C.F. There was no way I could drive, and I was supposed to get to the hospital department by 7.30a.m. Also, I was told that I would not be able to drive after the procedure. I was on the morning list, so I'd be finished and ready to come home around midday.

But, unfortunately, I had a bit of a meltdown. I should have cancelled the procedure, but it was barely 24 hours since Carol had passed away. So I discussed this with one of the nurses and explained that I was feeling depressed over Carol's passing. She understood and suggested they postpone the procedure. Then one of the doctors came to talk to me and said that there was no immediate emergency regarding the procedure and it could be postponed until sometime in January. Hopefully after the funeral. The doctor had to ring Tim on his mobile because he had gone off to park in a park-and-ride carpark with the intention of going into the centre of Oxford until I was finished after the procedure. Everyone understood that what I have been going through was traumatic and emotional enough and that it wouldn't have been appropriate for me to go ahead with the procedure.

This is a shorter-than-usual post, for me, at least. It was really difficult to write. It has actually taken a few days to put into words what's been happening, but now I've completed it. It's going to be a difficult couple of weeks as you can imagine.

Carol Having Surgery . . . Or Possibly Not

Carol has been visited by a whole range of different people during Thursday whilst I was with her. She has continued to be in a great deal of pain and for me it's really difficult to see her struggle with this horrible thing and not be able to do anything to help. During the afternoon she was visited by the palliative care team who are involved in managing the pain. Then some of the doctors came and did an examination and decided that some of the pain is due to an abscess that would need surgery to drain to relieve the pain it is causing. In very quick succession, barely 20 minutes or so, a surgeon came to see her to discuss this and it was decided that a further scan would be needed to be able to see how things are shaping which should help the surgeon. We were expecting the scan to be during the time I was with her, but, having been on the ward since 10 o'clock I had to leave at around 2.15. Unfortunately I need to get some rest. Carol was concerned that the scan (not exactly sure whether it's a C.T. scan or M.R.I scan.) would mean she would be in a lot of pain because of laying on the bed they use for this procedure, although the doctor in charge of her pain said that they would give her extra medication to help relieve this, but it would be no use if they didn't know more or less exactly when the scan would be because it takes at least 20-30 minutes before the medication takes effect. 

The surgeon came back with the paperwork for consent to the surgery and this was duly signed by Carol and he discussed further the procedure that would be involved. As I write this (7.35a.m) we're not entirely sure what time the operation will be, but apparently after 8a.m. So I'm not sure exactly what time she's likely to be back from the  operating theatre and, no doubt, awake after the anaesthetic. As a result I will have to contact the ward to discover all this or to get them to telephone me when she's back on the ward.

Anyway, I still managed to take Alfie out for his usual walk (well, it's a walk for me, but more like a trot for him, whilst all of the time he's yapping excitedly.) Yesterday we didn't go, because I just didn't feel 100%. Just one of those days, unfortunately. Nothing bad, just that some mornings my medication can make me feel queasy. A surprisingly mild morning. Eaglestone Park looking more than ever autumnal. The days are beginning to draw in and it's getting dark earlier and the mornings darker, longer. If Alfie had his way he'd be going out in the dark, but it wouldn't be such a good idea, so going out at around 7.15 is a good deal more sense.

Later. 8.50a.m. Carol has now texted me and apparently she's not having the operation. No doubt they've looked at the scans and decided against operating to drain the abscess. Not sure at the moment exactly what's going on and probably won't know until I go into the ward a bit later this morning. All a bit up in the air, as you might expect.

Later still. It's now almost 3 o'clock and I'm back home from being with Carol for most of the day. She appeared to be much brighter than over the past couple of days. We can't quite understand what happened regarding the surgery which had been planned over the last 24 hours. Infact, Carol hadn't eaten since early yesterday because of the expected surgery. She had a  C.T. scan late yesterday evening and I presume the surgeons looked at the results and decided that surgery was unnecessary and wouldn't benefit Carol. They say an abscess didn't show up on the scan. So, I don't know what to make of this. What surprises me is that none of the nursing staff on Ward 19 were aware that the operation had been postponed. It seems there is a communication problem between the nurses and the doctors. Which is crazy, considering it is them who have to deliver the care to their patients on the ward. The pain doctor had prescribed stronger pain relief medication but this will take several days to arrive from the hospital pharmacy, and it is likely that Carol won't get this until probably Monday at the earliest. Which makes it seem rather pointless if they can't get it to her quicker. Just another problem that needs to be ironed out and I can now see why the N.H.S. has so many problems if these sorts of situations arise.

So, amidst all this, no nearer to having Carol discharged from hospital at the moment, unfortunately, but there's no point her coming home until they've got on top of the pain and to be hones, being in hospital is the best place at the moment.

Later still. About 8.30 this evening Carol rang. She said that Dr Saka, the Oncology consultant, arrived on the ward. It seemed quite late, but he is an incredibly busy man and no doubt found it difficult to fit in all his patients, but his office is just below Ward 19, within the Macmillan unit. He will be coming back between 11 and around 3 on Tuesday so I want to make sure I'm there when he comes.

Ward 19 seems very noisy. Not just the patients, but the staff seem to make an incredible amount of noise. There is a door immediately outside Carol's room and each time someone goes through it, it makes a slamming sound. Also, a female domestic was cleaning one of the bathrooms or toilets close by and dropping the toilet seat repeatedly, getting really annoying. Then an elderly patient was walking up and down the ward using a Zimmer frame to walk with and it was making a dragging sound as if the wheels hadn't been oiled in years or the brakes were still on (not that the wheels on a Zimmer frame have brakes, but it seemed like they were locked firmly) Anyway, you would think that a ward would be a quiet and peaceful place where you could rest and recuperate, well, that's what I imagine it would be like. If I remember correctly when I had my first heart attack in 2006 and I was on the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit) at Bedford Hospital, I'm almost certain they had at least an hour's quiet. Not that it's ever quiet on any hospital ward, what with staff coming and going and new patients being moved in and out.

Even later. Carol rang me on my mobile at home. She told me that Doctor Saka came to see her on the ward. at around 7 o'clock. She asked him about the new chemotherapy treatment which can't proceed until her current situation is under control, the infection, which is being treated with antibiotics as well as the intense pain. He told her the cancer can be treated successfully and that he would be back to see us both on Tuesday between 11a.m and 2p.m., so I will make sure that I am on the ward when he arrives.

Weekend Dog-Walking and M.R.I. Scan

I haven't taken Alfie out for his early-morning walk since last Saturday. Well, if you're a regular reader of my blog posts you'll know why.  Alfie has been itching to get out and has been following me about the house but couldn't understand why he's been ignored as regards his walk. Frankly, I have't been exactly up for any sort of walk, because of the pain in my legs due to the bruising and Carol wasn't over-keen for me to go out alone with him. Also, it was raining very lightly, although I don't think we would get wet because it was so light. It didn't seem fair on poor little Alfie to have to be denied his walk, so Carol suggested we all go together. She didn't want me to go on my own, considering I'd only had my heart attack less than a week ago, so I'm not really surprised she wanted to go with us. Every time I moved around the house, from getting dressed, going into the bathroom to get shaved to going downstairs, I had a pair of little eyes watching my every move and when I put my jacket on and then my shoes he knew we were about to go out. Which turned  Alfie into a version of the Tasmanian Devil when he goes totally mad, barking, getting hold of the lead with his teeth and generally making a terrible noise, which continues as we go through the door and into the road outside and continue down the path towards Eaglestone Park, where we release him from the lead. For Alfie at least, it's not so much a walk, but more like a mad gallop around the park. 

Carol had another M.R.I. scan this morning. We were supposed to be at the unit at 10.45. We drove into the hospital campus and parked in the multi-storey carpark. Because it was a Saturday there were plenty of spaces. I was noticed how run down a lot of the hospital buildings look, comparing it with the John Radcliffe in Oxford. I think Milton Keynes hospital must have been built on the cheap, as most of the buildings are presumably pre-fabricated. I may of course be wrong. I still can't see why they didn't build a couple of high-rise blocks as there is an incredible amount of wasted space, hence, the amount of walking you have to do to reach various wards and clinics within the campus.

We walked down to the M.R.I. unit, run by In Health. I can't work out how this works. Are they an independent company, working for or in partnership with the N.H.S.? Does the hospital pay them for their services? Not sure I'm over-keen on a private company making money out of the hospital. I'v e learned, from Carol's friend Pauline, who is a colleague of her's who is a science teacher at Milton Keynes Academy, (which is sponsored by a private company, that this company is paid something like £300,000 a year by the Academy, for their services, such as administration etc.) It seems a crazy way to be funded, considering that this organisation has no experience of anything education-related. Why isn't this money used to fund teacher's pay, or, at least paying for extra staff, such as teachers or teaching assistants?

Carol's scan took over an hour, a good deal longer than the last M.R.I. scan she had when she was in hospital. The unit is just over the road from Ward 22 where she was a patient for nearly 5 weeks.

Sunday. I didn't go to church this morning. I woke with a nasty cough, which is a side-effect of one of the tablets I take. I'm not entirely sure which one it is. Seems that nearly everything you take has a nasty side-effect. One even says 'heart attack,' which is somewhat worrying, when you think I've already had two of those. Is that a side-effect? Crazy.

Later we took Alfie for his customary walk. We visited the shop to buy some bread for lunch and some Imodium tablets (because the Atarvastatin seems to be giving me the runs, rather unpleasant. See previous blog post.) I had an idea that any statin tablets I was prescribed would probably have this sort of side-effect, which I can honestly do without. Enough problems without constantly running to the toilet. Also, just plain tired and want to sleep. Which is just part and parcel of having a heart attack I'm afraid.

As I write this, at 3.15 p.m. on Sunday, it's quite bright and sunny, although there is a keen wind blowing.

Carol Discharged From Hospital . . . At Last!

Yet another hot and uncomfortable day. The weather is becoming somewhat monotonous, to say the least.

I've been attempting to sort out the tenancy agreement we have with our landlord to give to the Housing Benefit department at Milton Keynes Council. I have sent them an email, as I thought I'd attempt another tactic. Several years ago we had problems with the gas boiler in this house. We attempted to ring the landlord, but we couldn't get through. We then went through the council, because it would be obvious that they would have his details because of paying Council Tax and one thing and another. It worked and we eventually got the boiler replaced. So I thought of using this again and wrote the email and sent it. I even rang and got through quite quickly, considering how long it can take. I was then told, after explaining all about how they'd contacted the man over the boiler I was told, rather annoyingly, that they couldn't do that, 'because of data protection.' So, this  is because of the confounded new E.U. legislation called the General Data Protection Regulations 2018, which came into force in May. We're back were we started. I have left a message on our landlord's voicemail, but no response seems to be forthcoming. Where is the man? Does he not realise that this is important? It's not just us that need the paperwork to finish the Housing Benefit claim. He won't get his rent paid without it etc etc etc.

We spent a long day on the ward. We knew at some point Carol would eventually be discharged, but when, we couldn't say.

At 11.40 Carol had an appointment in the Macmillan Unit with Doctor Saka, the Lead Cancer consultant. Carol was taken down in a wheelchair by a porter. It's not far from Ward 22, but she clearly couldn't walk that far so it was best to be taken in a wheelchair. We have to wait a long time in the waiting area. They never seem to run to time in these units. Perhaps they don't give enough time for consultations, there's a lot to discuss. Eventually Carol's name is called and we go into the office of Dr Saka. It's the main man, not one of his minions. He asks Carol questions, about why she has been in hospital for four weeks. He came to Ward 1 when she was there, but didn't know she was on Ward 22. It seems as if there's a communication problem. Why wasn't he informed? This seems to be a problem with some N.H.S. departments, a lack of joined-up care you might say. He spends ages looking at the scanned imaged that came from the various scans Carol has had over the past few weeks and months, the M.R.I. and C.T. scans. We sit in silence. It's quite scary. We wait with baited breath. We're here to hopefully find out what the plan is for Carol's care. We are told that the liver and bowel cancer has been shrunk considerably by the chemotherapy, but they've found some cancer in her bones. It's a bit of a blow. How will all this be treated? He tells us that he will make a report and contact the cancer unit at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford and they will make some sort of decision. We feel we're no further forward. We haven't had the answers we need. The heat and the fact Carol's been ill and in hospital for near enough five weeks is really telling. We leave the consolation room and go back to the reception desk to make an appointment for four weeks hence and then the porter comes and Carol goes back to Ward 22.

Carol has quite a few visits from people different from N.H.S. departments at the hospital, the nurse about the stoma; someone from ophthalmology. The lady came with various lenses and glasses for Carol to try to help make reading easier for her because she's having problems with her eyes. A rather weird sort of pair of glasses with double lenses which had a knurled device on their frame which helps them focus a sort of domed glass magnifying glass that you move across a page of text, another which was a   squarish magnifying glass on a handle. Carol didn't get on with the strange glasses, which made me think of the sort of specs that someone who does close work, like a clock-maker might use. Or the character of Professor Brainstawn from the books I was read when I was at school and later read myself. He had around five pairs of glasses which were perched on the top of his head and he was always loosing.  written by the author Norman Hunter and Illustrated by W. Heath Robinson. In the end Carol chose the magnifying glass with the handle because she found the strange glasses to complicated. She will have an eye test so she can have proper prescription glasses. Then another lady arrived, from the diabetes team. She bought a bloodsugar testing monitor so that Carol can do the necessary blood tests to keep on top of her levels. We were looking into buying a new one, so, with this model, together with the lancets which go in a separate gadget to prick her finger, that's a definite saving. She also gave us a list to take to our doctor so all these bits and pieces which need replacing can be re-ordered on prescription because at the moment we have to pay for all these things. Hopefully, Lloyd's in Sainsbury's will be supplying all of this when the time comes for a repeat prescription.

Around 2.30 Carol eventually went to have the P.I.C.C. line put in. A nurse came to take her down, walking there, not in a wheelchair with a porter. It's not far to the scanning department. I had to wait in the waiting area, as you'd expect. The whole procedure took around an hour. After which we returned to the ward.

Carol had ordered supper (do they call it supper, dinner or tea in hospital? Whatever it's called, her evening meal.) It came around 5 o'clock. I could make myself a meal of some sort when I got home, go and get fish and chips or cook one of the individual meals I'd bought in Morrisons's a couple of days ago. She had a baked potato and baked beans. It would mean that she wouldn't want a meal when we eventually got home.

Someone arrived from the pharmacy department with all the medications that Carol would need when she got home. A couple of large carrier bags full of stuff together with all the bits and pieces needed by the community nurse who would be coming each day to give Carol the antibiotics. That is what P.I.C.C. line is for.

The nurse in charge had done the relevant paperwork, the discharge stuff, the official paperwork which gave a description in clear language of why carol had been in hospital, together with a couple of pages of all the medication she as being sent home with. We had to go through it all and check it off. All I can say is, thank goodness for the N.H.S. and the fact that we don't have to pay for any of this as it would cost us a considerable amount of money.

Nearly 6 o'clock and by this time I'd taken one load of things out to the car. Several carrier bags which would make the final exit a good deal easier. One of the nurse came and pushed Carol in the wheelchair out down in the lift and out through the double doors where the ambulances pick up and drop of patents. This is where we got on the ambulance which took Carol and I to the Churchill Hospital in Oxford all those months ago, before she had her chemotherapy, and was so uncomfortable, basically because the driver drove so fast and it was just plain unpleasant.

The nurse got Carol as far as she could in the wheelchair. The road surface going the rest of the way to the carpark is far too uneven for a wheelchair, so I went to fetch the car and drove it back to the ambulance entrance so that Carol could get in and the rest of the luggage put in the boot of the car. So, she was at last discharged and we drove home. Alfie was excited to greet Carol when we got in the house, having unloaded the car. I think she was glad to be able to sleep in her bed for the night. By the time we got home it was gone 7 o'clock but we knew that it was likely to take several hours for Carol's discharge to be completed.

Another Hot Day

It rained in the night. (Friday into Saturday) We were told on the BBC1 weather forecast yesterday evening. I wasn't aware of it. It clouded over during the evening and I thought it was suddenly going to pour, but it decided against it. But when I got up this morning and peered out of the bedroom window I noticed that the grass in the garden was sprinkled with drops of what must have been rain, but it had hardly dampened the ground. The road outside, having opened the bathroom window when I was shaving, didn't so much as appear damp. I took Alfie our for his early-morning walk (if you can call it a 'walk.' I do the walking and he does the running.)

I went to the One Stop shop in Garraways after 9 o'clock this morning to use the Post Office within the store as I needed a First Class stamp to put on an envelope as I had to post off a form which came from Carol's work, from the salary office. I don't know what it's about, but something to do with her no longer getting S.S.P. (Statutory Sick Pay) and it had to be posted off fairly promptly. I had fun looking for an envelope, but remembered a pack of them which were tidied away when we took the books off the old bookshelves at the time we replaced them with the new IKEA ones a few months ago. All the books were put into various containers and then deposited in the spare room. Fortunately the envelopes were in one of these containers.

Then a shopping trip to Sainsbury's. A need to pick up something for my evening meal, together with milk and a few other items before I went to see Carol on Ward 22.

I decided to walk to the hospital. At least I would be saving on the cost of parking. At the weekend the Macmillan unit is closed so you can't get your parking ticket clipped so you don't have to pay when you leave. It costs at least £4.50 a day to park which soon adds up, so the fact you can park for nothing if you are a cancer patient is something of a relief.

When I got into the ward, Carol said I was just in time as she was going for another M.R.I. scan. Or, at least that's what she thought. There seemed to be something of a mix-up and none of the nurses were sure whether it was booked. Generally you aren't supposed to eat within 3 hours of a scan, and Carol hadn't had breakfast. Then one of the nurses discovered that a scan wasn't booked, which was annoying. We want this done fairly soon because Carol's temperature is now stabilised and the doctor on the ward said that it had to remain stable for at least 48 hours before they could let her be discharged. They needed to see the scan of the infected area in her abdomen before discharging her. Thinking about it, she could have gone home, as she was told she could return home but return to the hospital for the scan and another check-up. A bit of a waste of time, considering she's been in hospital for nearly 4 weeks.

Then a nurse came in to say that, yes, Carol would be having the long-awaited M.R.I. scan. But it wouldn't matter whether she ate, which pleased her somewhat. It seemed to take some time for her lunch to arrive.  Everyone else seemed to have their lunch on the ward well before Carol's arrived. Some people had even finished theirs by the time Carol's arrived.  When it eventually arrived it was a sandwich of some sort, possibly ham, and soup. I don't personally think I could eat hot soup in this current hot weather. I had bought a sandwich from Sainsbury's, along with a bag of Popchips, a flapjack bar and an Innocent smoothie. Carol said that the soup was tasteless, so she had to ask one of the nurses for some salt to put on it. I don't think it exactly improved the taste.

Then the porter arrived with a wheelchair and Carol was whisked off to the M.R.I. scan, not more than a 5-minute ride across the road. The whole procedure took around 20 minutes and I waited in the waiting area.

It was back to the ward after the scan, by which time it was time for me to walk home. I just hope Carol's temperature remains stable and nothing too nasty shows up on the scan so that she can at last be discharged as she really longs to get out of that hospital ward.

Fortunately it hasn't be as roasting hot as of previous days, although the weather forecast says that we're going to get even warmer weather. We do desperately need rain, as the lawns and grass all along the grid roads around Milton Keynes look so parched and brown.

When I got home I thought I'd treat Alfie to another walk. I looked at the post and another letter had arrived asking for some paperwork for our benefit application. I'm now confused as to which address I have to send the form from the salary department, so I scored out the one I had already written on the envelope and put the address they had on this new letter and when we went out for the walk across Eaglestone Park I posted it in the letterbox just along from our house. Alfie was really keen on his jaunt around the park and all told add a few steps on my total for the day, which is now 7712.

Hospital Life Continues

There is one thing we'll have plenty of in a couple of weeks, and that's blackberries. On my early-morning walks with Alfie around Eaglestone Park, the bramble bushes which grow around the periphery of the park and in large clumps in the middle, the berries are ripening quickly. They will have had ideal growing conditions, enough rain early on in the season and now, bright, sunny days. You can't but notice them or else get caught in the sharp thorns that are on some of the over-hanging branches. Some are in real need of cutting back.

Unfortunately some people don't seem to care for the environment in which they live. The amount of litter I come across is appalling, particularly where it's obvious some youths presumably gather, usually around the benches and in some corners of the park. I have seen Council workmen picking up litter, which could easily have been deposited in the bins which are provided all around the park and along the Redway. If you walk along the Redway which leads towards Milton Keynes Academy (which I haven't done in quite a while because Carol hasn't been working there for well over a year now.) the path is strewn with all manner or litter. Near the Academy gates there is a rather unpleasant pile of cigarette ends. This is where staff members who smoke have to go because the Academy, in line with anti-smoking legislation, they are not allowed to smoke on the premises and if they wish to smoke they have to go outside the school grounds I've often walked past when several people are standing there puffing away. It's just a pity that they don't dispose of their cigarette ends in a more sensible fashion. This is also the case in and around Ashfield Medical Centre. If you park your car in the carpark at the rear of the centre you come across a similar pile of cigarette ends, mostly in the gutter. It may not be just Ashfield staff who go there to smoke, as there are other businesses in the same area, a dentists' surgery as well as Cox and Robinson's chemists, but it's still rather an unsavoury aspect of smoking that remains. No one has thought to provide some sort of receptacle to put these cigarettes in. I don't know whether there is a risk to the environment with a build-up of cigarette ends, feeding into the sewer system, or what is in the filter tips of cigarettes, particularly when they get wet when it rains. Still, it looks very untidy and unpleasant and spoils the look of the place, as it does when you walk past the Academy. It doesn't reflect well on either the Academy or Ashfield Medical Centre, unfortunately. I had a probably innocent idea that most people cared enough for the environment and as a result would not make such a total mess of their surroundings, particularly this generation of children. I imagine, with so much in the media about plastic pollution that they would be more considerate, or am I just being naive? Some walk along eating crisps or sweets or drinking from cans of drink and merely throw the empty can or packet into the bushes or on the ground, expecting someone else to pick it up. How difficult can it be to either put it in a waste bin or take it home with them to put in a bin there?

I arrived on Ward 22 in plenty of time to go with Carol to the ophthalmology department. Carol thought it was at 9.30, but on asking at the reception desk on the ward I was told it was 10.00. Also, I had to make sure that a porter came with a wheelchair to take Carol. I'm beginning to feel as if I'm still working as a Support Worker because this is exactly the same sort of thing I'd have to do for those I cared for. A porter came in good time and we were whisked off out of the ward through the 'secret door' into the corridor which links into the rest of the corridors in the hospital. (Not really secret. It's only accessed by staff. It is long and used, it would appear, as a place to store all manner of things which obviously don't have a home elsewhere in the hospital.)

On arriving in the ophthalmology department, Carol was soon checked in. It wasn't long before she was called in to a darkened room (!) and had to do a test, which I think I had to do when I had my eyes tested at Spec Savers about a year or so ago. You had to sit and put your chin on a special rest and peer into a screen which had a series of lights inside it and I think it was to check your peripheral vision. Carol got a good score. They did each eye separately, putting something over the opposite eye each time, doing left and right eyes.

We had to go back and wait in the waiting area. Carol's wheelchair was next to a chair which had been taken by a man, who did at least move so we could sit together. She was then called in to another room to have drops put in her eyes which made her pupils open and it stung to start with. Then she came out with me to wait again. It was supposed to be around 20 minutes, but as she was 'fast-tracked' through the system so she could return to the ward.

Another test. I'm not sure for what. I think they may have taken a photo of the back of her eyes, but I'm not sure. It was over very quickly.

Waited again in the waiting area. Not as many people as there were the other day we were in this department.

Then Carol was called in to see a doctor. It turns out her eye problems are related to her diabetes. The doctor used another device which looked vaguely similar to something they use when you have your eyes tested. It looked incredibly complex, which, no doubt it was, unless you were trained in it's use. Some sort of medieval torture device. You had to rest your chin on a special chin rest and stare into a light whilst the operator fiddles with a lens and a light is shone into your eyes. This is why they put the special drops in your eyes, to make your pupils dilate. I'm not sure whether a photo was taken. Someone said they might take a photo of the back of Carol's eyes. I think I had this done when I last had my eyes tested. Then the doctor explained. Quite clearly and precisely.  The amount of sugar in her system effects her eyes and it will eventually right itself, thank goodness. I went to ask the reception for a 'porter.' The woman said, 'go to the 'something or other' by the door', or something indistinct. I couldn't make out what she said clearly. What she thought I said was 'water' and not 'porter.' Crazy, really. The basis for a lot of comedy, when there's a mistake with a message or someone hears something different to what was actually spoken. Eventually, a porter did arrive and Carol was whisked back to Ward 22.

No sooner had we arrived back at the ward than the doctors arrived. I didn't stay as I wanted to go to the shop to buy something for lunch. On my return, Carol told me that, even though her temperature had stabilised, the doctors wanted her to have yet another M.R.I. scan, something that Carol doesn't like particularly. This is so they can access whether whatever it is that is causing the infection has changed since she started on the antibiotics. So it now seems likely that she won't be discharged until at least Monday. It will then be four weeks since she arrived on Ward 1.

I forgot to mention that Carol had the P.I.C.C. line removed from her arm the other morning. When her  12th chemotherapy cycle was completed the nurses weren't sure whether she would have it removed, just in case she needed further chemo. Carol said that the nurse who did one of the scans a few weeks ago was somewhat harsh when she was given some of the dye that was put in her arm trough the line and it hurt and wondered if it wasn't that which started the infection which caused her temperature to soar. Not clear whether that was the case, but she did wonder. Anyway, apparently she caught the line on a piece of thread or something which lead to the line begin to come out, so the nurses decided it would be best to remove it completely. Carol's pleased, because it's difficult to wash, have a bath or shower with it in place, she wasn't supposed to get it wet or the tube bandage which it was covered with to protect it.

When I got home, just before 2 p.m., I decided that Alfie would really appreciate another walk. Well, I say 'walk.' With him it's more a trot around the park with me following. I had left him in the kitchen. He seems to have got used to the idea of me leaving him on his own. I know he doesn't like it much, but he goes in the kitchen willingly. He has water and food left for him and his own bed in the corner.

And Now . . . Cleaning The House

Having had to contact our beloved landlord, he now wants to inspect the house. So I am busily cleaning and generally tidying the house. Will someone tell me that changing a king size duvet cover isn't the worst job ever??? I then go to find that the clean one is inside out and that takes some time to turn right side out. My experience of stage management and having to deal with 'tabs' (curtains) comes in handy. Working with extremely large cycloramas and tabs has come in handy, strangely. Getting the corners of the duvet to match the corners of the cover and then putting the whole thing over the bannister rail and getting the whole thing to fall out (as we would have done with tabs when working in theatre, so all the creases fall out. Some of those velour tabs weighed a ton and a half. Not literally, but if you did it wrong, when hanging onto a cleat-rail at about 40 feet from the stage floor, could be dangerous. Another story for another blog post, possibly.) Anyway, I did manage to get the duvet cover sorted. All those buttons to match up precisely is quite a difficult job. but it's done now and so another job ticked off the list. The duvet cover and sheets are now in the washing machine and doing their 'thing,' and will be out on the washing line within about another 15-20 minutes or so.

Carol has just this minute rung from Ward 22 to tell me that she's got an eye test at 9.30 this morning and I need to be there as they have to put drops in her eyes and she wouldn't be able to see properly for quite a while afterwards. Just as well I'm available to assist her.

Later. Well, I did get to the ward well before 9.30. After we'd waited some time and nothing happened (much as it did yesterday) we were then told that the appointment wasn't until tomorrow. Carol was told she was to have another M.R.I. scan, but she point blank refused to have it directly after the eye appointment, basically because, first, she wasn't supposed to eat 3 hours before the scan and second, she would have to have drops put in her eyes for the eye appointment and would not be able to see properly, which is why they needed me there to assist her because she wouldn't be able to see properly. There was a possibility that she could have the M.R.I. scan today, but it would be unlikely.

Another possible wrong piece of information. Carol was sure she had a consultant's appointment in the Macmillan Unit this Friday, but one of the nurses did some digging and found that this appointment wasn't until the following Friday. Quite a few mistakes today, but they were sorted out as the morning progressed.

Still Sunshine

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. 

Carol Moves Wards

Friday began fairly mild and not a great deal of sun, but as the day progressed, the sun came out and we were back on hight temperatures. The heatwave doesn't look as if it's going to end soon. As much as I like sunshine, I don't like it this hot. Just doesn't suit me.

I drove the car to the hospital, the same as I did yesterday. My thoughts were that possibly Carol would be discharged and we could at last go home, but, unfortunately, the issue of her blood sugar level and her temperature is still causing problems. It is odd that her temperature was around 37.5 only a few days ago and shot up to dangerous levels over a very short space of time as well as her blood sugar levels, which seem to have shot up also. 

The doctors have decided that she needs to remain in hospital for a few more days, to make sure the temperature and blood sugar levels are reduced considerably before she can be allowed home. She was to be moved on to Ward 22 during the afternoon when a bed became vacant there.

Carol had an M.R.I. scan booked for 12 noon. When no porter arrived a before the time, we began to wonder whether she would be going for the scan or not, but by around 12.20 a porter did arrive and she was whisked out of the ward and a short distance along the corridor to the imaging department and around to wait outside the M.R.I. scanner room. I sat in the waiting area outside the doors which had warning signs to 'Not Enter. High risk of radiation.' The whole process took a little under 15 minutes. When the scanning was progressing, the doors automatically locked themselves and lights came on, rather in the manner of when they were filming for television and you got 'Red light and bell' before a 'take.' She soon reemerged and we returned to the ward.

There was a lot going on in Ward 1, during the morning. Lots of patients leaving and new ones arriving. It must be quite difficult for the staff, because they bring new patients in on their beds and there is little enough space to manoeuvre beds around, beds having to be taken out first before new ones can be bought in.

Finally, after a couple of days waiting, Carol was informed that she was going to be moved to Ward 22. We began clearing up her belongings, but we still weren't given an exact time. We just sat and waited, and waited. Bur eventually we were given the go-ahead and   a porter arriving on  the Ward1.

Ward 22 is where we had to go to get the pump removed at the end of one of Carol's chemotherapy cycles, so it was at least familiar to us. Compared with Ward 1, it differs in that the 'bays' are separated into male and female and each 'bay' has only four beds. As a result there's a good deal more room for each patient and each 'bay' has separate toilets and shower rooms. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. Which makes a change from the constant noise on Ward 1, although, having said that, that ward was relatively quiet compared with some of the other wards we've been on. But on Ward 22 there isn't the constant coming and going of the patients being brought in and taken out. And the patients we came across seem eager to at least chat to you.

Saturday morning. It's started out sunny and bright. I'd decided a few days ago that Alfie needed a treat. He's been locked up in the house every day this week when I'v been to the hospital.  I wanted to take him for a walk before leaving the house. But with one thing and another I forget, but this morning I got myself organised and managed to get him on his lead. Even then he made a great deal of noise, barking and generally getting excited. We got out into the road outside the house and made for Eaglestone Park, where I let him off his lead and he bounded off, running like a little hare. I couldn't see any problems with his back leg which he has previously had a problem with, none of the holding it in the air or anything. Barking madly as usual. We did a complete circuit of the park but when we came down the Redway section near the shops I saw glass in the path. It might well have been as a result of an accident, but the way it looked, with a large and rather nasty larger piece of glass in the centre it looked like it had been put there deliberately to puncture some passing cyclist's tyres. I don't know what sort of idiot would brazenly set up this sort of thing, some mindless fool who should have known better. Even if you were to accidentally step on it with trainers, as I was wearing, it could cause a really nasty accident, with cuts to the soles of your feet, or if you fell on it, you'd need to go directly to the A and E department of the hospital. Also, all around the bench I was hoping to sit on and rest with Alfie during our walk, no end of litter, mostly drinks cans and cigarette butts. How disgusting are people? There is a great deal of litter around the park and it just shows that there is a certain element who live in this area who simply don't care about keeping things clean and tidy, regardless of the fact that there are no end of water bins to put there rubbish. A couple of squirrels running for cover as we walked on, but fortunately Alfie didn't notice them, otherwise he'd have run off in hot pursuit.

I've been up to the One Stop shop at Garraways in Coffee Hall. Just after 7 a.m. once they'd opened. I had to top-up electricity and gas. There's an A.T.M. machine outside so it's easy to check both bank accounts. A few extra bits bought, sandwiches and drink to take with me to the hospital ward which will mean I don't have to go to the shop at lunchtime. From Coffee Hall I drove to the Shell filling station in Grafton Street and put in £40-worth of diesel. One thing I can say about the Renault Captur, it's easy on fuel. The road has been resurfaced , which might explain all the  yellow diversion signs around the area. No road markings, but I suppose those sort of things put back at a later date. They are slowly managing to resurface most of the grid roads in and around Milton Keynes.

Busy Week

So ends another week. It's been relatively busy, beginning with Carol having a blood test at the oncology department at Milton Keynes Hospital. I forget to call it Milton Keynes University Hospital, but it doesn't matter that much, as it's still a hospital, with or without the academic addition to it's name. Then we had to drive to Oxford to go to the Churchill Hospital so Carol could have a P.E.T. scan. All of this related in an earlier blog post. Then she had two letters to say she had two scans booked, one an M.R.I. and the other a C.T. scan, both at Milton Keynes Hospital. Just don't ask which is which, but it means things are moving towards the next stage of her treatment, but as yet we don't have conformation as to what it's likely to be.

I went to Aldi early this morning (Saturday), getting to their branch at Westcroft just after they'd opened at 8 o'clock. A good reason to be so early so as to beat the crowds as well as finding a parking space. At least you can get in and out of Aldi's relatively quickly and their prices are a good deal lower than Sainsbury's or any of the main supermarket chains. It's a small store, as all their stores are. A far smaller range of items, so you don't waste time deciding which item to choose. At the till they whip your items through and straight into your trolley and you pack it all yourself on a shelf away from the checkout, so this reduces the queues. Such a simple idea and it seems to work. They put larger bar codes on their packets which means it's easier for the checkout staff to put the items through. 

Earlier in the week Carol had a text message from Daniel, to say that he was going to visit on Saturday (today). He's got a new job, at long last. He's been doing night shifts in a hotel in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, a Holiday Inn. He's being attempting to find something better for some time. It's working as a bar supervisor at St James's Park, the home ground of Newcastle United Football Club. To him it's a dream job. He's a mad Newcastle fan and has been since he was a boy. Although he would love to find a job he's been to university to study, computing, this will at least mean he's doing daylight hours and will actually be in charge of staff and not just a dogsbody which is how he's been treated at the hotel. He texted to say he'd be arriving around midday, but wouldn't say exactly when, but got here around 12.30. He came from the station by taxi cab, arriving with a huge bunch of flowers for his Mum.  We didn't do much. We stayed in the house as Carol wasn't feeling that well as a result of the final chemotherapy cycle. Alfie, our little Yorkshire terrier was pleased to see Daniel. We weren't sure he would remember him as it must be two or three years since he last visited.

He has an odd way with males, not me, of course. He can be a little off when Chloe's husband, Steve comes to visit. I don't know why. He gets very close to your face and shows his teeth. Is it a sort of territorial thing or something? I'm not sure. Anyway, we took Daniel back to the station as he was going into London.

More Mowing and Oncology Appointment

Another really warm and sunny day. I've done a bit more of the mowing of the grass, but there's still a bit more to do. The grass is exceptionally long and somewhat wet and the mower really moaned. Who can blame it? It's designed to cut nice, neat grass, not grass you would ordinarily find in a meadow and eaten by cattle. The machine is still sitting on the grass, waiting for me to complete the job. At the moment it's really far too hot. Not a good idea if you have a heart problem as I do. I have used my G.T.N. spray to alleviate any angina attacks, which is always possible if I'm exerting myself, which is definitely the case pushing the Flymo back and forth across the garden. I shall continue the job when it's a little cooler, which makes sense.

Carol had an oncology appointment with one of the consultants at 11 this morning (Friday). As it's been so warm and sunny it seemed a good idea to walk to the hospital. After all we only live around 10 minutes away. So we set of at around 10.30 and got there, having walked along the Redway and then into the hospital campus. Carol insisted we scramble up a slope which lead into the carpark behind the cardiology department. I had to climb it first and I helped her over the hump. On arrival in the Macmillan Unit it was exceptionally busy. Nowhere for us to sit together at first. As people went in for their appointments, this left vacant chairs, so we were able move around and to sit together. All a bit like a game of musical chairs. When the music stops . . .

Overhearing people's conversations. Well, it's just impossible to not hear. One old man, he must have been in his late 80's, if not older. Sounding a bit like Jones the butcher in 'Dad's Army,' who kept going on about his time in the desert during the First World War. This old man had been 'in the desert, in North Africa.' He'd been a chemist, so he knew a lot about the various chemicals they were using for his chemotherapy. He'd also worked in a paper-mill or somewhere and they'd used his skills.  Rather like being in the midst of an Alan Bennet play. He did go on and on. Got the other waiting people smiling. He did go on, though. But then he was called in for his appointment.

One of the volunteer men came round collecting mugs. Then he asked people if they would like tea. I didn't, but Carol did. By the time Carol was called in for her appointment at 11.20, he was coming around with a tray of tea, so Carol took her's into the consultants appointment. The surgeons have yet to see the results of the last M.R.I. scan from Wednesday afternoon, but they have discussed Carol's treatment. It looks likely that she will go to Oxford for radiotherapy on part of the cancer whilst the rest will be operated on in Milton Keynes and it's likely to be within the next four weeks or so. So everything is very positive. The warm weather definitely helping and the fact that we walked and didn't have the stress of driving and having to park the car.

On the way out of the unit we bumped into the cancer nurse we had been assigned when Carol was first diagnosed, and whom we haven't seen in quite a while. She said she didn't recognise Carol, as she is looking so much better. The fact that we've been out and about, that she is walking further and further is probably one reason.

So, a really pleasant walk back home, going through the hospital campus and back along the Redway.

We had a grocery delivery during the afternoon from Sainsbury's. It was easier to order on-line and have it delivered. We'd booked it to come between 3 and 4. It was efficiently done and saves so much bother of going to the store and trudging around picking up everything ourselves. It's great to let someone else do the work for us, and you don't end up buying stuff you don't need. As the site 'saves' your list of items, it's easier next time to do your shop faster.

I did a further bit of mowing, but there's still another section to do, mostly around the edges. I refuse to describe this scrappy bit of grass a 'lawn.' It no more resembles one, it may be grass, but not a neat and tidy piece of turf. Perhaps we should tear it up and have some artificial grass as someone has obviously had a bit further down our road. Oh, gracious! It would save time and effort, but I don't think our landlord would approve.

M.R.I. Scan and Pizza

Carol had an M.R.I. scan booked for around 5.10 yesterday afternoon. Which meant our evening meal would be delayed. Not actually a problem. It has been an exceptionally warm day and we'd been out this morning (see previous post.) We got to the hospital carpark, Carol driving. Some people have no idea how to park a car, as we saw one car left at an angle in one bay, actually taking up more than one slot. No doubt they were in a hurry so they left it at this peculiar angle, meaning the next space couldn't be taken by another car.

We walked down the road towards the M.R.I. unit. As usual, we were far too early. Nothing wrong with being early. Better than being late, as a patient who came in after us. What is so difficult about being punctual? I think she had to re-book her scan. No doubt wasting her time and effort and it must have meant that the unit lost a scan which could have been taken by someone else. It's crazy how many appointments are lost when people don't bother to turn up. Particularly at the doctor's surgery. No doubt wasting the N.H.S. millions.

It was nice that I was offered tea when I was sitting in the waiting area at the scan unit run by In Health. I think this is the first time I've been offered tea. As it was so hot it was really a necessity, as tea is such a thirst-quencher. Is that the difference between private and N.H.S. treatment? I'm not sure how a private company fits into the hospital.

Anyway, after the scan we paid at the machine and then we found that the carpark barrier was raised. Annoying as we'd just payed £4.50 or thereabouts. It's crazy that they don't think it necessary to put a notice on the payment machine advising people that the barrier is raised. How much are they making out of the broken carpark barrier? Or get it fixed so you at least get released by putting the ticket in the machine. Or just get of hospital parking fees. Simple.

On leaving the carpark, Carol went the wrong way out, ignoring the 'No Entry' sign. Who on earth designed the system for drivers to follow in order to exit the carpark? You have follow a crazy set of arrows which are illogical. No doubt some bureaucrat in an office somewhere, most likely in Whitehall. Probably having a really bad day. Just doesn't make sense. Although we got out a good deal quicker than if we'd followed the route as shown. Why are so many carparks set out in a similar fashion, usually supermarkets have them?

After we left the hospital we drove to Oldbrook as Carol said she fancied pizza and so we went to Domino's, next door to Tesco. Interesting to watch them make the pizzas, rolling out the dough and seeing how they were cooked. To be honest I wasn't overly impressed by the result, having eaten my half of the pizza. It seemed undercooked and mushy to me. Well, it did at least mean we didn't have to cook our meal. I think the pizza we sometimes buy at Sainsbury's is far better.

Eighth Chemotherapy Cycle

A rather cold and overcast day. Some slight rain.

On Saturday Carol had a scan appointment at the hospital. At first, when the letter came, we thought it was to be at the M.R.I. place she'd had an earlier scan at, called In Health, just behind Sainsbury's in Witan Gate. It was as well Carol queried the location, as she rang and was told that it was actually within the hospital campus. I think I had an idea where it was, as I'd walked past on several occasions when Carol had been on Ward 19. The appointment was on Saturday and it meant that her parents would be able to come with us. The appointment was at 2.20, but we got there in plenty of time. Well over an hour in total. She got a second letter, telling her that she'd been given yet another scan appointment, at the same place, for this Wednesday. She queried it, because if her chemotherapy cycle went according to plan, she would have the pump with her she would be given as part of the treatment and it would be possible to have she M.R.I. scan with it in situ. She was correct as it was to be re-booked for 18th April, during the week between chemo treatments and when she didn't have the pump.

On Sunday Carols mum and dad went back to Bournemouth. We went over to see them at the hotel in Newport Pagnall. By now the weather began to change. Rain, although not heavy. We'd had the best weather when we'd visited Waddesdon on Friday.

Today Carol had to be at the oncology suite for a blood test, at the beginning of the seventh chemotherapy cycle. As it was gone 10 when we arrived in the hospital campus, it was quite difficult to find a parking space, but there was one available, fortunately.

In the oncology suite it was clear that there was a shortage of staff, particularly the fact that there was no receptionist. We had to wait quite a while before Carol was signed in. One of the nurses had to do this, which meant she had to leave off another job elsewhere. Quite a lot of patients waiting, coming and going. Carol didn't get taken into the room for her blood test until well past 10.30.

We left and drove to Rooksley because Carol wanted to go to Hobbycraft. We had a look around but couldn't find what she was looking for. We went into Costa in Next and had lattes, really nice cheese and ham toasties and chocolate tiffin. I was ready for something to eat as I was hungry by this time. We then drove over to Westcroft to go into Morrison's, to buy something for our evening meal and for the next couple of days.

Under normal circumstances Carol would have had the bloodiest on a Friday and then have the chemotherapy begin on a Monday. We were expecting the seventh cycle to start tomorrow (Tuesday) but thankfully Carol checked her paperwork to learn that this cycle will begin on Wednesday, so it was as well the M.R.I. scan she had booked was rescheduled. We trust that the bloodtest will allow the seventh chemotherapy cycle to go ahead as planned.

Carol's Birthday and M.R.I. Scan

Today is Carol's birthday. Unfortunately she has her scan at 6.30 this evening. She can't eat anything after three hours before, so it will make things difficult as regards our evening meal. It won't matter one bit to me, of course. We're likely to get back around 7.30, depending, of course on if the scanning department is running to schedule. We were determined to go out somewhere at lunchtime, so we had to think of a place to eat, have coffee, had easy parking and didn't require too much walking. So we chose to go to Marks and Spencers at MK Stadium. It's not too far away and is relatively easy to get to. On arrival there was a fairly long queue and we couldn't avoid the fantastic selection of cakes on display. Who couldn't resist cake? We chose a piece of chocolate fudge cake and a piece of carrot cake. Also, sandwiches from a display unit.  A female member of staff came along the queue asking people what hot drinks they wanted. When I was about to say, she walked away! So what was the point of this exercise? As this was Marks and Spencer, I was surprised by the rather odd bit of customer care (or lack of.) Carol went to sit at a table whilst I got the order (eventually taken by the man on the till) and I had to gingerly walk over to the table with the tray of things, attempting to not spill the coffees (I ordered mediums, but the size of the cups were more like large. No complaints though.) The café was extremely busy. Mostly retired people (or I imagine so) and families with children. No doubt grandparents looking after grandchildren. One little girl sitting at the table next to us, probably no more than 3, very capable of opening one of those drinks that come with a straw. They can be difficult for me to open, to remove the straw from the side of the cardboard packaging and remove plastic wrapping and then straighten out the straw (why do they have to bend them in the first place?) but her grandad had to help her put the straw in the hole in the top of the packaging.

Our cake was pleasant. Along with the sandwiches, although somewhat over-priced. Never mind, it was a birthday outing, so the cost didn't matter.

I had intended buying some flowers for Carol. We went into the food section of Marks and Spencers on the way out of the store. She likes daffodils and tulips. They had some daffs near the tills, but they looked a bit bedraggled. No use buying flowers that are too well advanced, opened. They need to have closed buds, allowing for  few days for them to open. We selected a few items to eat later and then, when we got to the till there were several buckets of tulips, so I selected the least advanced bunch and paid.

We had to buy top-up for our electricity meter. So we drove to Garroways to go to the One Stop shop. I went to the till, and, having waited for a customer to be served ahead of me, was told that they would only take cash so I couldn't use my debit card to pay. So I had to go outside to use the A.T.M., and by the time I went back inside the shop there was a queue of several people. I must remember that they will only accept cash next time I have to top up our electricity meter.

We were due at the hospital for 6.30 this evening.  Fortunately we knew precisely where we had to go. One of the advantages of now knowing our way around the hospital site. The carpark had plenty of vacant spaces and the barrier was up so we drove in and out without the need for a ticket or to have to pay on exit. We got to the M.R.I. department  in plenty of time. I'm glad we did, as Carol was soon called in to be prepped for the scan. A good 15-20 minutes before the scheduled time. I had to sit in the waiting area. I suppose the scan took around 20 minutes. You can hear a computerised voice say 'you can breath properly now' or something, which indicated that it was over. Carol was bought out, not looking 100%. She had to be helped by a member of staff and the nurse went off to get a drink of water for her. Carol sat next to me for a while and then another member of staff came to clean up the cannula she has in her arm for the chemotherapy.  This was soon dealt with and we were soon walking back to the carpark and driving home. We should get the results of the scan on Monday when Carol goes to the oncology department for the beginning of the seventh chemotherapy cycle.

First Chemotherapy Session

A hard freeze over-night made conditions outside quite difficult this morning. We had to be at the hospital at 9 o'clock. Apparently there was something of a mix-up over an appointment to have the PICC line attached for the chemotherapy (A Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter).  Carol had to go to the X-Ray department to have this line put in. I'm not entirely sure what was involved, but we walked all the way from the oncology department and when we got there were told that she wasn't booked, which was something of an annoyance. So we walked all the way back to the oncology department and a couple of telephone calls were made and she was booked in so we had to walk all the way back to X Ray department. Sitting round near the scanning rooms, where M.R.I. and X-Ray  two men in uniforms appeared in the main waiting area. At first we thought they might have been policeman, but when we saw they had a third individual chained to them it was clear that they were prison warders and the third individual was a prisoner. Then a nurse came through to where we were sitting and asked us to kindly move along the seating so they come come through to wait. No doubt the prisoner was going to have an X-Ray or be scanned by the M.R.I. scanner. The sights you observe when out and about.

It wasn't long before Carol was called in. I just had to wait. It was a longer wait than expected. I had my iPhone with me. The thing rang. It was one of those companies attempting to sell some sort of financial product, but I wasn't interested and told the guy on the other end of the line I wasn't interested but he tried in vain to keep the conversation going. I managed to end the call, but it's annoying to get these 'cold calls'. I can't think where they get my mobile number from and why they think it's alright to ring on the off-chance that you'd be interested in such a product. Apart from anything, I think it's an invasion of privacy.

Carol came out after having the PICC line put in. She said it was a relatively short procedure but the process of setting it up and then being signed off took longer. Seems crazy somehow.

We returned to the oncology unit. The nurses set up a drip with glucose first and after an hour or two the actual chemotherapy solution was set up. Towards the end of the session they set up carol with a small pump which we went home with so the treatment could continue over-night.  In all the session it took several hours and we eventually left the unit at around 5.30. People came in and spent the day similar to Carol, some leaving after several hours.

At the end of the day a doctor came in to tell us that there was a sign from the blood test that Carol was slightly anaemic and the following day she would need a blood transfusion. A pity we would need to come back the next day as we were hoping to have a day away from the hospital.

Waiting

We're still waiting to hear from the hospital regarding Carol's treatment. We thought we'd hear on Thursday regarding the next step but there was absolutely nothing. Whenever the post comes or the phone rings it seemed it might be about something or other, but nothing. We decided to ring the specialist nurse who has been assigned to Carol and she said she'd ring around to see if she could discover what was going on or at least speed things up. She rang back, really quickly, thankfully, to say we were unlikely to hear anything until at least Wednesday or Thursday, because the cancer team met on those days. Also, they hadn't yet received the M.R.I. scan which was done the previous Friday. Just waiting for the relevant administration to be be done. It seems the N.H.S. is over-run by bureaucracy  If they were to get rid of half the paper-work it might run more efficiently. The same in education where there are to many targets and bits of paper to keep filling in. Crazy.

M.R.I. Scans and Mild Weather

The weather continues to be unseasonably mild. I'm going out without a jacket or a sweater on. Just doesn't make a lot of sense, since we're well into October. I've been out on some days, thinking it's going to be cold (some early mornings start of cold.) put on a thick sweater and find, once I'm out, that the sweater is making me far too hot so I remove it. I end up carting the sweater around with me as I did when we went to the shopping centre the other morning. The trees all along the various grid roads around Milton Keynes are changing colour. Quite striking and surprising.

We're still waiting to hear from Basingstoke. Carol had an M.R.I. scan yesterday morning. It took a good deal longer than I was expecting, but at least it's done. Not at the hospital, but at a, presumably, private provider called In Health, which is based in the same block as Sainsbury's, just off Witan Gate. I expected the appointment to be at the hospital, but it was here. A very different atmosphere to the usual N.H.S. facility. Decent chairs to sit on and not lots of other people sitting and attempting to avoid eye contact. The staff were very good, very professional and caring. So, with this last scan, the various departments will now have all the information they have to deal with this 'thing.' Every day we wait patiently for either a telephone call or a letter.