Yesterday we took Millie to the vet for the last time . She has had cancer for some time now , a sarcoma in the jaw behind her eye . It had been growing , but she was coping with it , and despite going blind was still getting about in and out of the garden , out the window onto the little balcony , food bowl , litter tray , laps , all being managed well . But in the last few days she was declining sharply , and we had to bow to the inevitable .
She will be much missed , she was rescued from an industrial estate that she was trying to make a home in . Arriving here , not long after we had moved in and I was recovering from cancer . She was much loved and returned that affection , as long as her bowl was filled , and her ears tickled .
A prolific destroyer of wild life , mainly mice and spiders , but unfortunately the occasional bird . Her greatest achievement was bringing home a young rat . The undamaged creature escaped behind the fridge , then disappeared under the floorboards . the young rat developed into a large rat , sustaining itself on the cats food . this Millie found upsetting , but refused to challenge the rat , she was only a small cat , it it had become a large rat . we would find piles of dried cat food squirrelled away at the back of cupboards . But Millie ignored it , her sense of survival kicking in , and we were daft enough to tolerate the situation .
We were not tolerating the situation , but it was a very smart rat . Eventually we ushered the , reluctant , rat from the first floor flat into the garden , never to be seen again . Millie relaxed .
In the damp atmosphere following the torrential rain last night , her smell rose into the air , it provoked a tear . Good bye Millie , good times , good memories .
Back to hospital, blue lights flashing… (part 2)
I was moved four times before a bed in a ward became available, all different pods in A’n’E. It is surprising how large A’n’E is, and how many sections it has. One pod was even en-suite, I assume this was for potentially infectious cases, or for the nurses to get some restspite. Despite looking forward to a shower, I was moved before I could properly settle in . Eventually to Blackthorn Ward, a medical ward with a mixture of conditions catered for, from the side affects of covid, to brain injury, via indescribable conditions that challenged the nursing staff. I arrived as food was being delivered, too late to order some it was “left overs”, but lamb biriani is always acceptable. And then to sleep, ha, ha, ha.
It would seem that all the refugees from the English revolution are here, the ranters the ravers and assorted noise and trouble makers. Screaming, gurgling, coughing, and escaping, all known life is here. The man opposite bites through his tongue. One poor fellow walks up and down and constantly tries to “escape”. complaining under his breath and asking for locked doors to be opened, even the ones on to the fire escape which are closed due to building work. Once he made it out front but realising he had nowhere to go turned around and came back in, still complaining he was being locked up and wanted to go home. I hear you, I hear you my brother .
Having just got off to sleep we were woken up for the first “obs” of the day. The plan is to get my oxygen levels up and my inflammation markers down in order to leave. Everyday I’m held up the promise of release only to be beaten back into my bed by bad blood and lack of heavy breathing. Getting to 96% oxygen saturation is a struggle, my lungs have significant scaring from the sarcoidosis, but at least i could get a shower in. The major side effect was from the coughing and the constipation, cause by one the drugs I’m on, in both cases it aggravated my hernia, which continually popped out under stress, which can’t be treated until the heart valve is replaced.
I am being threatened with intravenous antibiotics, yikes, they don’t let you out with a drip attached to your arm. The day plods by, you cant do much in the way of reading or sketching when you have a severe lack of sleep. The night approaches we are into shift change and I tell the nurse the man opposite has blood coming from his mouth. That was exciting, a full on medical emergency. we are all curtained off and about twenty people appear by the bedside, surgeons are called x-rays are taken, every one moves out for the pressing of the button. The guy in charge is giving a lesson as he works telling us all what he is doing and possible alternatives. The would be escapee makes several forays to the door in all the confusion. The rest of us just revel in the diversion, whilst worrying about the patient, it could have been one of us. Eventually it all quietens down and the man is sent for an MRI, then curtains around our beds are removed, there follows a slightly quieter night.
The morning see more tests, more blood, and the man opposite having his lungs drained. There is another medical emergency when someone falls off of the toilet and they need the crane to get them up. During a third emergency, not sure what but it lasts all day, with people and visitors milling about, I decide to attend to my own emergency, under threat of having an enema inserted. Not with out some effort and pain I am successful and completely block the toilet. Help is unavailable too many emergencies going on, so I wander around and find a bucket in the sluicing room and flush the offending item away, what a life.
At midday I’m informed I have passed the test, freedom beckons. This requires a letter and some drugs to take at home, usually this takes 4 hours, no change there then. Still eventually I arrived home and managed an early night after seeing to my cat, who has cancer and will not be around much longer. I don’t think the infection has gone , i suspect come Monday there will be more antibiotics, but I have retreated from the outer circle of hell that was luring me in with two curries a day and porridge for breakfast, if they had had decent coffee who knows what might have happened.
