Day 2 - Getting Organised

I am not the world's most organised person at home. At work it is different, but with cleo around she is very good at ensuring that what needs to be done , is done. So, this morning I had to wake to the realisation that there is much that I needed to organise in terms of home, as well as my time for visiting cleo and sorting the kids. The girls are pretty good, they get themselves ready and by 0820 are preparing to leave. We agree that they will visit cleo with me this afternoon and they get off to school.

Now I am alone in the house, and it's really quiet. It is moments like this that underline how much you miss someone when they are not there. I open the back door to let some sunshine in, and the cool November air wakes me up, along with the hot tea I am drinking.

First thought: I promised cleo I would visit this morning, so I had better get ready. Jump in the shower, and I am away by just after nine.

First gauntlet to run is the car park at the hospital again. I note the sign on the automatic payment machine "no change given, overpayment accepted". I wonder just how much they make in "overpayments" each week. I consign £2 into the bottomless pit of the machine and they have 30p extra from me for the £1.70 fee, and proceed to park the car. Surely if they can make a machine that has the ability to print a ticket on which you add your car registration number, they can make one that gives change?

Inside the CDU its all hustle and bustle as hospital wards are in the mornings. cleo is sort of dozing when i arrive and a light kiss on the cheek wakes her up; she visibly brightens. "How are you?" I ask. "I want to come home" she says, "please take me home".

I feel tears welling up inside me already. I hate this. My love, the person I waited all my life to be with is asking me to do something as simple as take her home, and I cannot.

I note that there are different staff from yesterday, and cleo says she needs to go to the toilet. It seems that she is frutrated by little things right now: a line they placed in her hand yesterday, is hurting, she cannot drink except from a special drinking cup, and when she does she dribbles slightly, and some of her tea has dripped on her t-shirt. I find a nurse and ask for a commode, thinking that yesterday's episode will enable me to get cleo in a position to go to the toilet in comfort again. Not so!

A male charge nurse arrives and states they cannot let me lift her because it is dangerous. I explain that i will bear that responsibility, and that cleo need to go to the toilet. Finally, after many exchanges and some quiet, but rather forceful threats I suggest to the male nurse that he has 5 minutes to decide before I start getting really angry. Then, out of the blue, he says " we can use a hoist". Jeez, what did he say? They have a way to lift her and they didn't tell me?

So, we get the hoist, which takes a while but it makes lifting simple, and cleo is lowered onto the commode. She seems more able this morning to sit, compared to yesterday, when she simply flopped sideways like a rag doll. Anyway, while she is sat i wash her, and generally spruce her up a bit, which makes her feel better. We agree with the nurses that she can sit on the chair by the bed, and the hoist does a good job of getting her there.

Hospitals are always warm places, but this ward is like a damned sauna. I am sweating profusely by the time we are done, and i wander outside for a few minutes to cool off, and grab a coffee. When I come back we are told that they want to take cleo for an MRI scan. We agree that when she goes for this I will come home and wait for the girls to come home and return with them in the afternoon. In the meantime i organise and pay for the use of the Patientline telephone by cleos bed, which enables her to call out, and people to ring in to her. More of that later.

Finally the porter arrives to take cleo for the scan, and we say our goodbyes. I promise to be back as soon as the girls are home, and take my leave. As I walk out of the hospital entrance I feel weary, and I sit in my car for 5 minutes and relax before I drive home.

Unexpected Developments

I am sat at home before the kids come home, and I think I will call cleo. I get the number of her patientline phone and dial it. She answers and is pleased I have called. I ask how the scan went, and she says that she has seen the doctor. It seems they want to transfer her to a rehabilitation unit in Dover, which is about 25 miles away. I am thinking "I dont want her that far away". The QEQM Hospital is only 10 minutes and even that is far too far for me.

She is babbling now, obviously having a number of things she wants to say, and trying to speak too fast. I have to keep telling her to slow down, because I cannot understand what she is saying. First its this move to Dover, and then she says that the social services have also spoken to her. It appears that because I am not the girls' natural father there is concern about them staying with me and that while cleo is unable to care for them they ought to return to their natural father.

I am extremely upset at this although I don't tell cleo. She doesn't need to get upset. I file that one away for some time in the future to be dealt with appropriately, with the appropriate people. I then have to explain to the girls that cleo might be moving to Dover, and while it's much farther away it will be better for her treatment. I am slowly getting them to accept the long term nature of what must come: this is not going to be days, but weeks and weeks. They sort of see the sense, in that their main concern is for their mum's health, although that of course is balanced against not having her at home for a period that may extend into weeks or
months.

The afternoon visiting went well. cleo was buoyant, and seemed in good spirits, and the girls were pleased to see her looking better than yesterday I think. We arrived and found someone I did not know at the bedside: one of cleos brothers whom I have not met. When he left we had to broach the subject of going to the toilet again with the staff. cleo said she needed to go, and i found, this time a very pleasant and amicable sister who readily agreed to let me do my stuff, and provided a commode instantly. While the girls waited outside we got cleo on the thing and she duly did what she had to. Relief all round I think! The nurse even remarked that I may have to do this for her in the future until she makes a full recovery, and so it will have been good practice to get under our belts.

A scary moment

Home again and dinner cooked, and the girls are getting ready for bed. I am on the phone to a friend of ours explaining about cleos illness when my mobile rings: Sarah answers it and comes into the kitchen white faced "It's the hospital, asking for you" I think to myself " Oh my god, whats happened" as i take the phone. "Hello, its the CDU ward here, just to let you know we are moving cleo to the Stroke ward this evening, so you know when you visit" Major relief, and nervous laughter all round. It wasn't funny at the time though.

For my cleo

I know that cleo will read this blog eventually and now, sitting here late in the evening at home, with the girls in bed, and just my own company I want her to know how much I miss her. I wish I could just go to the hospital, wrap her up in my arms and bring her home. To feel the warmth of her love for me is the best feeling I know, and the way her eyes light up when she sees me, makes my life worth living.

Darling, I miss you so much, but I love you more today than I did yesterday, but not as much as I will tomorrow.