Sunday, August 23, 2015

Go on….GUESS!! Where do you think I am………?

So yep…..I'm still in hospital! I've been moved around a bit, and this is the 3rd bed I've been in. I'm in a four bed ward, and initially I had it to myself, but now there are three of us. And as much as I hate to admit this, I have settled into the rhythm of being in hospital. I know the staff. I know the menus. I think I even know the stock that the shops carry. But to be fair, there are only two shops. And, fantastically, the whole place is completely accessible, I can wheel around to my hearts content, all be it crashing through the doorways.

Some good has come out of this enforced hospital stay……

1, I am having physiotherapy three times a week…..

2, My brother came to visit. And as we had dinner, I realised this was the first time in ages that we had been alone together. The last time would have been pre kids and pre partners, so about 25 years.  

3, The Good Man has had some breathing space. This means sleeping in the middle of the bed, and watching whatever he pleases on the TV, without me rolling my eyes.

4, My sister also came to see me when I was on a day visit home. It's always good to see her, especially if she sews up the rip in my dress, caused by not quite stretching over my tit.

And now for the bad……….

5, I am ONLY having physiotherapy three times a week…….

But that's it. I am so blessed that this fantastic hospital is only twenty minutes away from home. I hope to leave later this week……in time for the little man's third birthday.

But this whole thing has got me thinking, and not for the first time, about how lucky we are, when we are born, raised and live within a country that provides free health care. And bloody good health care it is too. And to know that it is under threat really pisses me off. And to also know that the threat comes from within, from home grown Tory wankers pisses me off even more.

So, what to do? I don't know the answer to this I'm afraid. All I know is that I feel pretty helpless, and worried. Being worried is not enough. I, we, need to effect some kind of forward thinking change for the greater good of the whole country…...

If you have any suggestions, please leave me a note…...                          

Friday, August 14, 2015

Yeah.....I went AWOL for a while.....sorry.

Long time, no words. And by long time, I mean 5 months. 5 bloody months! Surely I could have found something to write about in that time, but no. I mean, things happened but I had lost the ability to assemble my words.

As I write this, I'm in hospital. Have been all week. And will be for the next two or three. There are  both good and bad things about this……...

I have my own room and my own bathroom.

The food is not so bad.

The staff are great. Mostly.

There's a Starbucks on the ground floor of the hospital.

I'm starting intensive physiotherapy whilst I'm here.

AND they aren't crazy about children visiting on the ward, so I've been given a pass to go out……as long as I come back in the evening………so this means I SEE MY LITTLE MAN TOMORROW!!

I miss my room, and everything in it. Especially the good man. Especially at bed time. I swear his arms are therapeutic. In fact, I miss my whole home. And everything/everyone in it. And the dog.

The drinks. How can tea taste SO BAD?

One nurse kept moving my wheelchair away from my bed, and therefore, out of reach. Because 'I was at risk from falls.' So when I said 'What if I need a wee?'  'Oh just do it in the bed. We can clean that up, I just don't want you to fall.'
And this shows you how crap I was feeling because I didn't chew her bloody face off whilst challenging her thinking.....
'So you think it's ok for me to sit in my own piss? That's bad for my skin, bad for my feelings of self worth, and BAD, SO BAD, because it's totally unnecessary. AND I won't fall if I'm in my wheelchair AND YES, I do transfer just fine....THANKS FOR FUCKING ASKING!!

There's a Starbucks. It's going to take ALL my money.

Physio.....nothing bad about it. Except the mirror at the end of the parallel bars, so I can see how wonky I am. And also how fat/old/tired I look. And how badly my hair needs doing.

I haven't seen my little man since I've been here. And that hurts. Really hurts, like a punch in the throat.

But on balance, the good out weighs the bad.

Win some, lose some.