Long day Friday

Hamilton Square Gardens, Birkenhead

Friday was a very strange day. We spent hours in the Pyramids Shopping Centre in Birkenhead at one point, killing time. After trundling round for ages on the possibly visually appealing but very uncomfortable paving for a wheelchair user I felt I was beginning to lose the will to live... But at least I got a pair of cheap purple Crocs clones half price, so not entirely wasted!

We spent part of Friday morning making phone calls to arrange appointments. We rang Mum's solicitor, who was out, in Liverpool for the morning. His clerk, of course, knew already - he is also the Coroner.

We left a message for Mr E, Mum's accountant (also out), and will probably speak to him next week sometime. John thinks it was R that he spoke to, who had dreamed Dad had died - I hope he wasn't troubled by dreams this time round. Guess not, as I think he'd have mentioned it as we met him shortly after Dad's funeral.

John rang the Bereavement Office at Arrowe Park Hospital and arranged to collect Mum's effects. Her new slippers, the clothes she was wearing when admitted, and her wedding ring. They gave us the Doctor's cause of death certificate for the Registrar, and a form for the Funeral Directors, to be signed for the release of Mum's body to them. It was different to when Dad died, as he had to have a post mortem, so the Coroner's Office sorted out the medical certificate I think.

We made a provisional appointment with the Registrar (at Birkenhead Town Hall) to register Mum's Death, dependent on the paperwork being faxed from the Coroner by 3.30, or it would have to be Monday.

After the trundle round the Pyramids, and several phone calls to try and get things sorted we went to Posh Nosh Kitchen in Market Street for some lunch. I first heard about them on the Breakfast Liverpool blog. This is our second visit, we ate there the day we went to register Dad's death. I had the Full English Breakfast that time, and it was very good. Very nice to get Ulster Fry as well as black pudding!



All day breakfast, yum!

John had the Full English Breakfast this time, but I went for double egg and chips. The chips were absolutely superb - the best I have had for years. Crisp and golden on the outside, melty potato in the middle, just perfect. Dunked in runny egg yolk, I felt in heaven.




Double egg and chips (one egg nearly eaten already!)

We had the same seats in the window of Posh Nosh as we did last time. I can't believe I didn't notice this picture on the side of a building across the road on the corner of Henry Street before!



John had a couple of calls while we were eating, stepped outside to take them. We still didn't know if the paperwork would get faxed through in time, but after eating we decided to go to the Town Hall anyway in hopes all would be in order by the time of our appointment.

There was a marriage at the Town Hall when we arrived. We were about an hour early for our appointment, so we took a short walk in Hamilton Square. We sat for a few minutes on a bench, but despite the sunshine the wind was a bit chilly, so after taking a few photos we walked back to the car for John to collect the papers we needed, and then on to the Registrar's Office.



Birkenhead Town Hall

It was comforting to see the circle of life, two happy people and their family embarking on life together, as we went to register a death.

At first we were told that the paperwork hadn't come through, but John had had a phone call from Mr J to say he had faxed it through himself since his clerk had gone home. So they checked the fax machine and then told us to go through.

We met the same Registrar as we had when we registered Dad's death. She was very kind, and told us how much she enjoyed the work she did. While she has to record the sad events of life, she also has the happy aspects - birth and marriage - to record. She was looking forward to Saturday when she would officiate at two marriages. Should you read this, thank you A. for being so approachable and helpful - your kindness is much appreciated.

Then it was on to the Funeral Directors, Charles Stephens on Bebington Road, Bromborough, who looked after Dad's funeral. John signed a lot of papers, and we were helped to write Mum's obituary for the both the Welsh and English editions of the Liverpool Daily Post, and the Wirral Globe (freebie paper).

G and J at Charles Stephens were fantastic when we were dealing with Dad's death and arranging the funeral, and I am confident that they will be as incredibly helpful and kind this time around. But I'm sure that they won't mind me saying that I hope I don't have to deal with them again any time soon! ;-)



Dad and Mum on their honeymoon, September 1947.
I think this might be Clovelly?



Note: updated 5 Nov 2007 to add link to Obituaries for Mum and Dad.

Roadworks

They are digging up the road right beneath our bedroom window as I type this. The noise is unbelievable, hope it doesn't go on for long. Ah well, most of the rest of Liverpool is a building site, so why should things be different for me.



I've seen both Mum and Dad a couple of times since I last wrote here. Mum is behaving as bizarrely as ever, Sunday she hardly noticed we were there once we had made it clear we weren't taking her home. She went and talked to the lady in the bed opposite, she seemed to think they were related.

The week before she refused to say Hello to John, and after barely acknowledging me said "I hope you're feeling guilty". I replied "I've nothing to feel guilty about, Mum."

"What about how you treated your sister?" (I'm an only child) She keeps insisting her father is alive, and when John asked last week if she'd like to visit her husband she said "I don't have a husband".



So we left before visiting time finished, and went to see Dad. He had only returned to the nursing home on Saturday after a week in hospital being treated for pneumonia. At least Mum had a few visits with him while he was in. He was very tired, so we chatted for about half an hour and then he asked to lie down (they had to bring in a hoist to move him to the bed) and went to sleep. So we left then.



On to the flat, where I sorted some of Mum's clothes to bring home and wash. I did the first batch of washing yesterday, it's a bit damp still, but if John takes it back to the flat this evening after visiting Dad I guess he could hang it up to air there. Next load is in the machine now, so hopefully will be ready to take back on Thursday.



Mostly it's been too wet to get out into the garden much. But I can report that the flower on my agapanthus grown from seed has begun to open. I haven't got a picture of it open yet though (been too wet when I've had both the time and the energy recently), but here it is about a week ago.



Not done much knitting since I last posted. I cast off half the stitches on my sock swatch bag (this is the stage in the photo, the needle poked through the body of the bag is just to stop the edge curling), and have continued on the rest to make a flap. I'm not enormously pleased with it, so think I might rip out the flap. But I'm going to think about it for a while, so the ten remaining stitches are languishing on a stitch holder until I make my mind up!



It's quite fun trying to decide how to proceed. Currently I'm thinking of edging the flap with garter stitch, but I don't want to rush at it this time! I've found the perfect button for the bag, so I'm sure I'll get going on it again soon.

I finally ordered a swift which arrived last Wednesday, but it took me till yesterday to get organised enough to try it out. So I wound my first cake of yarn (artesano alpaca hummingbird, colour Lovebird) yesterday evening, and I think it looks very pretty. Will be casting on this evening I hope!



Thank you everyone who has left comments. I am finding life quite difficult at the moment, so mostly don't have time to reply, or to leave comments on other blogs. Mum is to be assessed soon for discharge. Obviously I am rather worried about it all. And the emotional upsets are taking their toll on my energy levels and capability to get stuff done. It is all just so utterly draining.

Friday around 4.30pm John had a phone call from a social worker (they always seem to ring around 5 on a Friday, rather like DWP and DLA stuff always arrives in Saturday's post), saying that a psychiatrist would see Mum on Monday, but we haven't managed to find out anything about that yet. The nurses we spoke to on Saturday didn't know anything about it. We are waiting to hear from her consultant's secretary, who John contacted yesterday. The staff on the ward aren't allowed to tell you anything over the phone (apart from a brief "bulletin") because of the Data Protection Act.

This is what I had for lunch today.

Comfort Food

Hospital visit

We're planning on visiting Mum this afternoon. I can't say I'm looking forward to it. Spare us a thought around 3pm!

John phoned the hospital around 4pm yesterday to say we wouldn't be visiting, but would be coming today. Was somewhat disconcerted to have the phone handed to Mum. She just said "don't bother".

Nurses say she is getting around better. I foresee trouble.

We may go on and visit Dad afterwards. Depends how we feel when the time comes.



A selection of some of the junk on our bed. Not much room for us!

Mum admitted to hospital

Did a bit of gardening today, here's my view of the yard from my seat in the corner.



Mum rang early yesterday morning (7.30am), complaining the pain was very bad and wanting John to go over to let the doctor in. John is working full time, so said he couldn't. "Why can't Margaret come over?" I've been disabled for 15 years, and at present I can't drive either.

Mum has never accepted that I am disabled, we presume she thinks I'm just lazy. But the truth of the matter is I can't even look after myself properly on a day to day basis, so I certainly can't look after anyone who needs physical help.

Lunchtime I had a phone call from one of Mum's GPs. He was concerned that she needed more help than she was getting. I told him that we were concerned too, that we'd visited on Sunday. I also told him that John works full time and I'm disabled myself, so it's not really possible for us to do more to help than we've been doing.

And that Mum was assessed by Social Services when Dad went into hospital, but had refused all the help that was suggested and offered. I don't want my parents' GPs thinking we're uncaring - just the way things are - we are overwhelmed at the moment.

Mum was to be admitted to hospital for assessment. She needs to be encouraged to be more mobile despite the back pain, or she is likely to lose her mobility. The GP recognised that she isn't coping well alone, but I wonder if he realises quite how fast she has lost that ability.

He admitted he didn't really know her, this was only the second time he's seen her. And since he did a home visit it's possible he wasn't able to access her notes before the visit - I imagine it was taken as being relatively urgent (not actually life-threatening, but high pain levels). I also asked if she had mentioned seeing people in the flat - he said she had, but was oriented. John's written the surgery twice about this, but we have no idea if they have had the letters or done anything about it.

I worry Mum may be suffering from depression, reaction to everything that's happened since mid February.

John phoned the hospital soon after he got in from work yesterday, around 6pm. Mum had only been admitted a bit after 5 so was on the Clinical Decisions Unit. We had a brief meal and he headed over to the hospital. They will keep her in overnight, and intend to do back and hip X-rays. They also think she's maybe dehydrated so are setting up a drip. John was there when the doc came to see Mum.

I phoned this morning about 11.30. Not a lot of news, but was able to ask them to tell Mum I'd called. They say she will be moved some time today, but don't know when or where yet. Am leaving it for John to call when he gets in from work.

Spent some time sitting in the back yard under the parasol and watching the insects. And planning and plotting what most needs doing in terms of potting on, moving plants and so on.

Later

John called the hospital this evening when he got in from work. Mum has been transferred to a different ward. He managed to get through to them, and they will tell her he rang and sends love from us both. Her X-rays are fine, no breaks. John will visit tomorrow, am hoping to go too, but will have to wait and see how things are when the time comes.



I think this bud is an iris. Need to split the plant when it's finished flowering. Would love to get some of these established at the caravan.

The first Peace rose is over now, but we still have a bud in waiting. Here's the last photo of it.

Sunny Monday morning

John just rang. He has spoken to the Matron at the Nursing Home, and she will go to the hospital to assess Dad tomorrow morning. They may move him as early as Wednesday.

Slugs and snails and other tales...

It's obviously that time of year... A few days ago someone came to visit this blog searching for stomping snails, and today it was chucking slugs. These creatures do seem to bring out the violent worst in gardeners! I've seen quite a lot of slugs in the back yard, so I guess it's time to bring on the nematodes. Sadly this week has got away with me, so it'll have to be next week now.

My Father is still in hospital, but they want to discharge him. We are going for a Case Conference on Tuesday afternoon. I have been trying to find out about continuing NHS care. Seems I will have to write to the strategic health authority to get a copy of the the local eligibility criteria. I hope they are a bit more helpful than the hospital concerned. Getting any information out of them is like getting blood out of a stone.

I wrote on 4th April (and it was hand delivered to the ward on that date) requesting the medical assessment for Dad's discharge. Yesterday I received a letter from the Operational Management Directorate which said "We note that you have requested information regarding your father's discharge and the Ward Manager has confirmed that you have now been given that information."

This is news to me. We haven't received ANY information. My mother had a letter some weeks ago (April 3rd), but apparently it was just a pro-forma with no details. I was very angry about it at the time, Mum is in her 80s and has age related macular degeneration, so it seems a bit pointless writing to her. I know Mum wants Dad to go back home to her, but I don't think it will be feasible unless they can arrange more or less round-the-clock care. Which seems highly unlikely.

Hospital discharge is supposed to be a process that involves the patient, their carers, and relatives. I can't say I've noticed much in the way of involvement of either Mum (Dad's primary carer), myself or John (my husband, who does his best to give some care for Mum and Dad additional to that provided by Social Services since I can't). Other than that John (at work) and I (at home) get phone calls from social workers who can't get through to Mum, probably because they call when she's out visiting Dad in the hospital.

This is what is supposed to happen according to a very helpful document from the Alzheimer's Society.

Assessment for hospital discharge

Before a person is discharged, their needs must be assessed so that any support or care services that they need can be arranged before the person leaves hospital. Any organisations that will be providing these services must be made aware of when the person is due to be discharged and when they should be visited.

If the patient’s needs have changed considerably since they were admitted to hospital, they may require a multidisciplinary assessment. This might involve the person’s consultant, nursing and ward staff, local authority staff, the person’s GP and their carer. If the patient’s needs have not changed considerably they may need a simpler assessment.

At the time of the assessment the person with dementia, their carer and/or their relatives are entitled to written information that explains:

* The health authority’s eligibility criteria for NHS continuing care
* The services that the primary care trust and the NHS trust will provide
* The services that the local authority will provide, including the likely cost of these and any welfare benefits that the person or their carer may be able to claim to help pay for them
* The NHS trust’s and local authority’s complaints procedure.



So Mum/I/John should have been sent or given various documents a while ago "at the time of the assessment". The assessment was apparently completed on April 4th, but only reached Dad's Social Worker on 17th April (probably typed up in India?). Nothing in today's post, will give it till tomorrow. Next move will probably be a phone call to PALS (Patient Advice and Liaison Services).

I am concerned that we had a very "heavy" warning from Dad's first consultant that he has something nasty in his lungs (we haven't yet managed to find out what) and that we MUST be very careful to use the alcohol wash after visiting. I hasten to add that we always did that anyway - I have worked in a bacteriology lab, admittedly many years ago. Even back in the 60s some people were concerned with emerging bacterial resistance.

John asked last week if Dad had been re-tested for this "organism that has colonised his lungs" (as the consultant put it). I was rather shocked by the response, which was along the lines of "Oh we've treated that so it's gone, we don't bother re-testing". Surely this can't be right? When we saw the first consultant he seemed to me to be saying that the infection wouldn't clear completely, and pneumonia would continue to be a danger.

I think I've blogged long enough on the worrying scary stuff for now. So here's some good news!

We make a big deal of the Grand National these days. Choose horses, lay bets, try and memorise the colours of the silks, and so on. And open a bottle of Fizz just before the race starts. I had £1 each way on five horses. John only bet on three. I couldn't keep track of which horse was where, and who had fallen, but towards the end it appeared at least two of my horses were still running.

And one of them won! And the other came third. So thanks to Silver Birch and Slim Pickings I am £52.50 better off than I would have been otherwise.

Tonight's sunset

Bizarre

We have had a number of very bizarre phone calls with my Mum over the last few (3?) days, but this one from last night takes the biscuit.


8.45pm (after numerous other calls from Mum)
===============================================>>>

Mum (M): Where is John, your son John, sleeping tonight?

John (J): Do you mean your husband John?

M: Yes, him. Where is he sleeping tonight?

J: He's in N Ward, at C Hospital.

M: No, he isn't. He's here with me in the flat. But he won't say anything.

J: But we both know he can't be, because he's in C. How could he have got to the Flat?

M: I don't know but he's here. I can see him here.

J: You have to remember that you're very tired and you've had a lot of stress recently. Could it be that your senses are playing tricks with you?

M: No, I'm perfectly aware of what's happening. Someone just closed a door in the flat above and I heard that.

J: But there's no way John could have got to the Flat.

M: (sounding irritated/peevish) I knew you wouldn't be any use. (emphatically) He's here now! I went to the bathroom and when I came back he was here. I suppose I'll just have to get to bed and try to get some sleep.

J: That sounds the best idea.

=====================================>>>

This morning I stuck "hallucination in blind" in Google, and lo, there is a possible answer. Mum has age related macular degeneration... I think she may be suffering from Charles Bonnet Syndrome (CBS).

Royal National Institute for the Blind - fairly dry and factual

Fantastic and interesting description with some visualisations of what the visions may look like.

We will be contacting her GPs on Tuesday, to let them know, as they may want to speak to her about it. I'm sure that Mum will believe her doctor more than John and me that it's a recognised condition in people with failing eyesight! ;-) Plus doc will be able to check for other possible causes too.

I particularly liked "I knew you wouldn't be any use. He's here now!"

John and I are going hysterical together. Every time my Mum phones at the mo she seems to say something that has us rolling around the bed laughing our socks off. Or tearing our hair out. ;-) Ah well, laughing is good for you, isn't it! And less painful than tearing yer hair out!

Disclaimer - I am not a Doctor. If your loved ones have similar symptoms, please contact you GP/Family Practitioner. Do not rely on my blog, or on the links I give. Links are for interest only, and are not intended as medical advice in any way. I am not a Doctor.

Spring has sprung...

Bright and cheerful crocuses - a few flowers blew away in the gales the other week, but plenty more have followed on.

It's been a lovely sunny day here in Liverpool. John was feeling sufficiently recovered to go for a swim this afternoon, and take a bit of a walk along Otterspool Prom amongst the kite-flyers and other strollers.

Yesterday we drove over to Clatterbridge in the afternoon to visit my father. I thought he seemed less well than the last time I saw him, about 2 weeks ago I think, but it's hard to tell. Maybe it's just disorientation after being moved. But he was pleased to see us.

He has a label around his wrist saying something like "Danger of Falling", and I was relieved to see he is now in a bed with side bars. He kept getting out of bed before (on the last ward), but didn't manage to use the frame he'd been given. Instead of leaning on it he just carried it around. Dr R will be doing a ward round on Tuesday or Wednesday, so hopefully we will get a better idea of how things are going after that.

Some of the freesias the girls gave me for Mothering Sunday are still flowering, and they still smell wonderful. John can't smell freesias. And it's my favourite flower because of its perfume. He brought me a bunch into LMH when I'd just had Sarah. I woke in the night, and smelled them, and cried. Felt so lonely, and touched he had remembered how I liked freesias even though he can't smell them. Plus was terrified at having a baby - I'd never even held a baby before I was being trundled on a trolley through the bowels of the hospital clutching Sarah to me and scared I was going to drop her.

Of course that was back in the days when you were kept in for 10 days as standard. But I was chucked out after 7 as they needed the bed. So some things haven't changed!

Oddments

Haven't looked at my stats recently, so was rather surprised to find I had 70 page loads on Tuesday. Very strange (usually it's between 10 and 20, with the occasional blip). Some of the search terms people use are quite entertaining, and I find myself wondering why on earth they are looking for such stuff. This is the funniest I've had recently:
pictures of bacon stuck between teeth

The phone has been ringing all day today. Mum rang at 9am, worried as she'd had a phone call from Social Services asking her a lot of "lifestyle questions" as she put it. I don't know why, and they haven't made an appointment to visit. She is supposed to be being assessed by them, but gawd knows when.

Then I had a couple of silent calls. Pick up, nobody there, and number withheld. I hate these.

I was very tired so had a nap this afternoon, and just as I was dropping off the bloody phone rang again, I'm afraid I left it. Yet another silent call around 5pm, so John was lucky I picked it up when he called at 5.40 to say he would be late home. Since then Helen has called from the hospital as Mum couldn't remember if John was going to take her to visit tomorrow (he is), and the phone has just gone yet again (Helen again with news of the visit).

Sounds like Dad is getting his sense of humour back. The staff asked him what he'd like to drink, and the response was "a gin and tonic". When they said they couldn't manage that he said "a nice Italian white then".

We got yet another phone call after all the rest - Orange ringing to try and sell us their internet service. I bet it was them that all the silent calls that withheld their number were from earlier. Grrr. John told them not to call us about it again - they rang me a couple of weeks ago too. Used to be our ex-directory number didn't attract sales calls, but it doesn't seem that way any more. Grrr, grrr and grrr again.

Paula's place - House of Poland, Lark Lane. .



Paula is the best hairdresser I have ever had my hair cut by. And she is lovely too. I've been going to her since the kids were tiny, and remember them getting styled for the school disco one year - Helen had totally crimped hair (well, it was fashionable back then!) and looked fantastic. Paula, if you ever read this, hugs to you.

The last time Sarah came up from London (nearly 3 weeks ago) we both had haircuts, and she treated me to a manicure.



We sat in Keith's for a while beforehand (Paula is usually running a bit late, but we're used to it, and she is well worth waiting for), I had cappuccino, she had hot chocolate. Helen met up with us post haircut to drive us home, and she and Sarah split carrot cake and chocolate cake. They decided the carrot cake took it on this occasion as it was nice and moist. Nice to sit there and watch the people passing by - Lark Lane is a great place to people watch.

I am pleased with this photo I took through the window at Keith's, but just need to get the angle slightly different so I get the whole of the sign for The Albert showing through the window. Next time we go I will attempt to do that.



The old laundrette across the road, where Sandy's Mum used to work, has been closed for a while now. It's being done up, refurbished, and will become yet another restaurant. But I was struck by the wonderful lettering on the old shop banner exposed where the laundrette sign has been taken down.



We also noticed some amazing detail on a building across the road from Paula's, and a bit closer to the Park. We were speculating on its history - there is an entrance part way along the building that goes through a tunnel to a courtyard/space at the rear. Presumably to drive a coach through? It's on the same block as The Albert, so maybe it used to belong to that. Who knows. But I think I'd like to try and find more out.



Lark Lane has a lot of interesting buildings, I really must go and take more photos one of these days. And it'd be good to take a stroll (well, more of a stagger for me!) along Hadassah Grove, lots of interesting buildings down there!

Well, I'm here, sort of.

I just spent an hour or so watching the abalone sky with an archipelego of clouds floating in it.

Took some photos, as I thought Sisyphus might enjoy them, she needs cheering up. But I can't upload them to this computer (another random programme conflict I suspect, should spring-clean this desktop!), and am back on dial-up on the laptop, so would probaly take take too long. Aaarrgghh! But will get them up when I can, if any are free of camera shake.

And then caught the last 10 minutes of an old "Top Gear" on some random Sky channel, which gave me the best laugh I've had all week. Jeremy Clarkson was invited to open a swimming pool... He bought a Rolls Royce cheap (well, it did have a lot of body probs plus leaky radiator), did it up (sort of cobbled it up might be a better description), donned the only suit he owns - or so he said. Then instead of stopping for the red be-ribboned scissors brandished by the Mayor ("What do I need scissors for?") he drove straight through the red ribbon and straight into the swimming pool. Well it's funnier to watch than describe, I wonder if it's available on YouTube.

YESSS!



More importantly I want to wish my good friend Ray, "Mr Co-Cure", a very happy 60th Birthday. Happy Birthday Ray! And many more of them. Let's hope Co-Cure won't be needed by the time you reach your 70th! ;-)

This is only a quickie post - too much going on to blog about as it's all happening so fast. Dad is still in hospital, he had a MRSA infection, not sure exactly what the infection position is right now. But from what Doctor R told us just over a week ago it seems he has a worse bug in his lungs, so they are being very careful about infection control, and the Doc emphasised that we should be careful to use the hand wash etc. Pneumonia is a constant possibility. Plus they are using antiseptic skin cream to prevent the infection spreading to his skin.

Mum had laser eye surgery on Tuesday, which John took her to. Her sight has improved a bit, but she is sad that she still can't see well enough to read. I think it was probably too much to hope for (she has AMD) but I guess it's only natural to hope against hope that things will return to more normal, despite what anyone tells you.

The phone rings too often for me now, but this morning had a welcome call. Helen and David got home from Sweden late last night, and it was Helen on the phone. They stayed in the Ice Hotel, went on a short hike wearing snow-shoes, went out on snow-mobiles, but didn't see the Northern Lights as it was cloudy. But it's not been a great year for it this year apparently - something to do with sunspots and solar flares?

Gotta go, am missing Comic Relief does Fame Academy!

Black eye!

Yesterday evening John and I went over to Arrowe Park Hospital to visit Dad. I rested up most of the day, had a bath, and was ready for tea when John got in from work - he's on 9.30-5.30 this week, so was later home than usual. Every red light was against us - it took forever to get to the hospital. We only had to drive twice round the car park to find a space though, which is a definite improvement over daytime! I was virtuous, and wore my neoprene corset for the journey. Which I believe is why my back isn't too bad today following the travelling, but my legs are barely functioning.

We got told off for arriving late - Dad was worried we weren't coming when we didn't arrive on the dot of the beginning of visiting time (7pm). We managed to stay on a bit late to make up for it though.

Dad looks much better than he did when I last saw him, which was the day he was admitted. He's still on antibiotics I think, but didn't cough at all in the time we were there. Just as well, as he has MRSA throat infection so if he starts coughing and sneezing they will have to isolate him I think. We carefully did the alcohol rub hands thing on entering and leaving the ward, but can't say I noticed anyone else bothering.

He saw the physio again, from what we could gather - they will be trying to get him mobile again. The ward is very noisy - the TV was blaring out Coronation Street so all the visitors were talking loud to be heard over it. Dad is still speaking very quietly so I couldn't make out a lot of what he was saying. Plus there was one of those buzzer alarms going for ages that really scrambled my head.

I imagine as soon as the infection clears they will dump him in a "rehabilitation" ward, just hope it isn't the same place as last time, which was dire.

This morning I staggered on my lumpish legs to the bathroom, as I washed my hands I looked into the mirror over the basin and discovered I've developed a black eye overnight. Will have to try and find some eye shadow to match up the other eye so as not to scare the neighbours!