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Then I decided she needed my company whatever her condition. With my reading glasses on I could see that her head was rocking very slightly to her shallow breathing. The duvet, just below her chin, wasn't rising and falling as it had previously.
It was quite cool indoors at only 60F [15C] so I relit the stove. Which produced a loud complaint about the noise! She is still very much present [and correct!]
4.00 and I have jut accidentally erased everything I have written so far. I had simply repeated that the burnable waste skip should be placed in the wider area just outside the gates. Doesn't that sound pompous? For a humble pair of wooden, picket gates constructed from waste, Douglas Fir planks. Which I had bought for firewood.
With the help of White Van Man I can fill the lowered skip in under ten minutes. This should be reason enough for the driver to loiter. Rather than disappearing for half an hour as arranged. He can then lift the loaded skip and drive away to the waste burning facility in Odense.
And no, the parallels of all of this do not escape me. Though I [hopefully] shan't cry over the removal of my wife's slight excess of packaging materials. In retrospect it was foolish to move it all outside quite so quickly. It kept me busy and my mind off the tragedy unfolding in the living room. Or the L-shaped lounge if you prefer the "posher" term.
With the help of White Van Man I can fill the lowered skip in under ten minutes. This should be reason enough for the driver to loiter. Rather than disappearing for half an hour as arranged. He can then lift the loaded skip and drive away to the waste burning facility in Odense.
And no, the parallels of all of this do not escape me. Though I [hopefully] shan't cry over the removal of my wife's slight excess of packaging materials. In retrospect it was foolish to move it all outside quite so quickly. It kept me busy and my mind off the tragedy unfolding in the living room. Or the L-shaped lounge if you prefer the "posher" term.
I had better go back downstairs. To see what mischief my wife has been up to now. "Somebody" [her favourite term for me in an argument] had pulled her bed out from the wall. So that I collided with the tailboard as I crouched in front of the stove. Which promptly produced a loud exclamation from the occupier of the bed!
With the wheels locked and the floor reasonably level this requires some explanation. Was my wife practising her levitation skills during the night? Did these skills extend to a heavy hospital bed? I released the brake and moved her bed back to its rightful position.
With the wheels locked and the floor reasonably level this requires some explanation. Was my wife practising her levitation skills during the night? Did these skills extend to a heavy hospital bed? I released the brake and moved her bed back to its rightful position.
My wife may also be teasing me by suppressing the fire in the stove. Sometimes it sulks and glows without flames. Even when the primary damper is wide open. I had to throw some paper in to ignite the gases. Which risked an escape of these same, smelly gases to the house by opening the door. It's all "sulphur and brimstone" in these here parts. It must be all those local witches.
I seem to have recovered from yesterday's dizziness. I had gone to bed at lunch time to catch up on my sleep. Then heard a loud bang outside and got up too quickly. Probably just "grit" in my inner ear being dislodged. I was decidedly "wobbly" for the rest of the day.
The racket proved to be a sand delivery, lorry driver. Whacking his vast, tipped up container. To ensure it was empty. This racket was repeated at intervals throughout the afternoon. Given the colossal scale of these tipper trucks "Somebody" needs an awful lot of sand!
The racket proved to be a sand delivery, lorry driver. Whacking his vast, tipped up container. To ensure it was empty. This racket was repeated at intervals throughout the afternoon. Given the colossal scale of these tipper trucks "Somebody" needs an awful lot of sand!
6am Muesli and tea. I had gone back to bed and rested for an hour. Woken by a loud rattle. Friday? It's green bin day! It was the sound of bottles and tins being emptied into a refuse lorry.
7.00 I have just spin/spun dried and then hung my T-shirts on the clothes horse by the stove. No complaints from the patient this time. Despite the usual racket from the spin drier.
7.30 The trash gods were in my favour and the green bin men have sneaked along and emptied my bin. All is safely gathered in.
7.35 My wife is breathing deeply. She does not seem to want anything when I ask her gently. It is impossible to tell if she is awake or sleeping. I gave her a little apple juice to wet her mouth earlier. More like three wet egg spoons than a proper drink. It is always her choice. How much and how often. She tries to make it clear when she has had enough of anything.
8.30 A nurse has just been. Cleaned my wife's teeth and mouth with a wet, sponge lollipop. Changed her diaper.
WVM was parked on the T. Where the main drive branches down to our place. I had automatically assumed that the identical van belonged to the neighbours from hell. Who's extended family often insist on parking just there. Despite having their own parking area, two empty carports and a large area of grass. Which they use only when it suits them. It must be all that demolition waste they burn. The toxins have removed what passes for grey matter in their [extended] household.
WVM was parked on the T. Where the main drive branches down to our place. I had automatically assumed that the identical van belonged to the neighbours from hell. Who's extended family often insist on parking just there. Despite having their own parking area, two empty carports and a large area of grass. Which they use only when it suits them. It must be all that demolition waste they burn. The toxins have removed what passes for grey matter in their [extended] household.
The lorry driver agreed to wait for ten minutes while we loaded the skip/container. We rushed back and forth until all of my wife's packaging was in the skip. The lorry left with a fraction of its true capacity. Then spent 20 minutes at the end of our drive chatting to WVM. So much for needing haste!
I am attacking the hedges again with the chainsaw. Any branch, even pretending to be leaning this way, is for the chop!
9.30 Morning coffee and a toasted roll have been consumed. What now?
With apologies to those concerned that my silence meant the demise of my lovely wife. I spent the day, until 3pm concentrating entirely on my wife. Rather than recording each moment as if it meant more than she did. I sat beside her for hours holding her hand. Or massaged her calves and feet endlessly. I talked so much that she tried to tell me to shut up. Though there was no longer any verbal communication. Her stepsister rang to say she need picking up from the bus stop at the nearest village.
The arrival of her sister showed a serious decline in my wife's body language. Our normal conversation was wearing her down. She wanted to go back into the fog of the drugs. It was no longer about her but her sister's arrival. A nurse came on request and administered a relaxant. Rather than the heavy pain killer of morphine. My wife showed great reluctance to accept the injection but was eventually calmed.
It was impossible to tell when my wife was sleeping with her eyes half open. Though the slack jaw suggested she had escaped. I made up a mattress on the floor beside her bed to spend the night with her. Whether I slept at all was debatable. I had been up since 3am the previous morning without a single break.
Later my wife began to become very restless. Mumbling repeatedly her discomfort ever more loudly. Until she was crying out in obvious pain. Make it stop! Ow, ow ow. At 2am I was ringing around the emergency numbers I had been given. None produced any response. Or were unavailable at night.
Eventually I took a chance and pressed 1 for the acute nursing service in the town nearly 10 miles away. I hit gold and Miss C said she would be there as soon as she had finished with another patient. And so my wife was administered a small dose of morphine.
Eventually I took a chance and pressed 1 for the acute nursing service in the town nearly 10 miles away. I hit gold and Miss C said she would be there as soon as she had finished with another patient. And so my wife was administered a small dose of morphine.
Miss C had been a repeated visitor to my wife and knew the situation. My wife's desperate desire to be "awake" in her last hours, or days, had been instantly undone. Miss C told me that the pain killer was fast acting but was likely to diminish as rapidly by the morning.
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