Chapter 21 - That end of term feeling!

It's Christmas!!!

The last post ended on tenterhooks - will he/won't he spend Christmas at home? Well, a glance at the pics below would indicate the best result, the one that I was desperately working towards. A lot can happen in a short space of time and although I started the week with a temperature and on a different lot of antibiotics aimed at sorting whatever infection was responsible, I ended the week on top form. So all in all a good week, and a good result.

Interesting neighbours
Monday and Tuesday nights were rather disturbed, due to my fellow inmates on the ward. Not being in a sideroom is ok but if you get stuck with other ill blokes in one room you are at the mercy of whether they are (a) infected with Norovirus (b) incapacitated/noisy (c) interesting. At the beginning of the week we had all three, and the latter was an especially sweet 97 year old I shall call Fred who obviously was not himself following chemo and was being kept in for his own good until well enough to go to his daughter's. At one point I found him sitting on the edge of my bed (whilst I was sitting on the other edge, so we looked like a couple of bookends); he was reading my paper. I thought he was being friendly, until I realised he thought he was sitting on his own bed; no wonder he was giving me odd looks. He clearly didn't like being in hospital (does anyone?) and tried to make an escape - the first attempt being at 4am. The night staff were very patient with him - he was ranting and raving at them to let him discharge himself and using some fairy ripe language for such a sweet old chap - but eventually he settled down. In the morning, I assumed that he had forgotten about his night excursion but not a bit of it; several more attempts to get dressed and walk out of the door were made before he resigned himself to being kept in a while longer. Poor man, his daughter assured me later that he's normally as 'sharp as a razor'.

Up the pub with an 'alf in me 'and! Excellent.

Best news ever!
Tuesday 23rd December and the Prof's rounds, so with it the decision on where I would spend Christmas. It couldn't come around quickly enough but eventually it did, along with a settling down of my 'infection' and a good, sharp rise in my blood count. The timing couldn't have been better and the result was the best I had hoped for - not just to be allowed out for Christmas day and Boxing Day but a full four day 'holiday' from Wednesday first thing 'til Sunday evening. Hoorah!

Of course, the perennial problem of getting my discharge letter and take-home meds sorted in good time was uppermost in my mind but some pestering of the junior doc and several nurses meant I was ready to go at 9.15am on Wednesday. I'd even ordered a cooked breakfast in celebration, though it only arrived just in time to eat it before Tom appeared to help me down to the car with (too many) bags and stuff. I promised myself to consolidate my baggage before readmission.

Christmas
In retrospect, I really don't know how we would have managed Christmas if I hadn't been allowed out; or more to the point how Sally and the family would have managed, since I wouldn't be able to move from hospital. It doesn't bear thinking about how logistically difficult and upsetting it would have been but thankfully the problem didn't occur so no point in dwelling on it.

Me, Lizzie, Sally n a triple selfie on Canada Common

As I was picked up nice and early we nipped home to Cheriton to get baggage, presents and stuff sorted and to pop up to the pub for an hour to catch up with friends. But we spent most of my 'holiday' at Sally's parents at West Wellow, as is usual at Christmas. Lizzie drove up from Devon, Zoe popped over for tea on Christmas Eve and with other relations we were a fairly modest six for Christmas lunch, the 'big' 12-seater job being reserved for Saturday when other members of the family were available. We had the traditional Christmas stockings, a leisurely walk in the sunshine on the common, a huge Christmas lunch, closely followed by tea - then supper.

Trousers now 2" too big. Thanks goodness for Santa.

One thing Sally's mother will not let you do as a guest there is starve.

Boxing Day (Friday) passed in similar manner although the weather turned really nasty - wet, cold, windy and with the exception of first thing when the white frost was still on the ground and Tom (who had joined us Christmas Day afternoon) and I walked Rosie across the fields.

Board games and newspaper/book reading and general chatter was order of the day, very much as usual. We have spent well over 30 such Christmases with my in-laws (my parents being long gone) and each year it's delightfully similar. There was a period when it changed for a while when the kids were small, but they too have now joined the league of lazy adults!

A bonus Christmas
Saturday saw a new influx of in-laws - Sally's brother's family, their children and other halves - for another walk on the common in the sun with dogs followed by a huge cold meat and salad lunch which I have to say I tend to prefer to Christmas lunch itself. Lizzie left for Devon shortly after and Sally and I also departed, wishing to enjoy my last day of freedom at Cheriton. I know - a bit selfish - but the thought of being allowed out and then not

Is it any wonder I put on 2kg in four days? Delicious.

enjoying the comfort of my own bed for one night - seemed just a little bit too much.

The Cradduck clan all together - wonderful!

We caught up with Downton Abbey, paid the odd bill and sorted some paperwork, investigated a leak in the airing cupboard and scratching noises that could be either mouse or rat. In other words, 'normal' things. All the kind of stuff that I can't wait to get back to in a few weeks time. Oh, did I mention a fabulously

Rosie having fun with her mates. She slept soundly that night.

peaceful sleep in my own bed?

Sunday was another lovely sunny day (we were so blessed with good weather) so rather than walk locally, we hopped in the car and headed off to Petersfield for a stroll around the Heath boating lake and a hot chocolate. At about a mile long, it is about right for my rather depleted fitness level. Santa brought me an adjustable walking stick for Christmas and I don't mind admitting it, it has come in useful; I look forward to getting properly fit again once the regime has finished and - I hope and pray - I am 'cured'.

A home visit wouldn't be complete with a visit to a Lidl to stock up with wine and bits and pieces, then it was home for the last few hours and watching ET on the box (it's 34 years since it came out and still entertains today). Then, sadly, it was time to pack up and head back to hospital.

What's ahead?
Back on ward D3 (thank goodness I wasn't readmitted to some other ward and have to fill put another 16pp form) and immediately it's back into the routine: light, noise, disturbed nights etc. I am hoping and praying for a relatively easy passage with this final chemo regime, the one that last time gave me such joys as hallucinations, sickness, Norovirus and chronic nosebleeds.

Our lovely kids - Zoe, Tom and Lizzie. Bless 'em.

I am also awaiting a call from ENT to follow up from last week's audiogram and to tell me what they intend to do to restore my hearing. It's been six weeks or more and I have to say they are not too impressive in the way they work. The longer it goes on, I can't help feeling that the longer it will take to sort.

So here we go on the last cycle. Wish me luck!