Brighter day

Will was more cheerful today and has been enjoying hourly perambulations of the ward as part of his fitness regime. Being Will, although the instructions were to do this between 9 and 5, he started at 7.30 and did his last lap when seeing me off at 6.45. He also did 5 mins on an exercise bike at very low resistance. His mum and dad came up to see him and were, I think, pleased at how much better he seemed than when they last saw him. Overall the boredom is really starting to get to him, but he's frustrated at how quickly he tires, how rubbish his voice still is, and how difficult he finds it to read. We think the latter is related to the painkillers he's taking - something called tramadol for you medics out there - along with some dizziness and tremors. We think the op may have damaged his vocal cords a bit - we were warned this was a possibility. They may well sort themselves out over time but, if not, a minor op in the future may help to free things up. I think he really needs to properly rest his voice, but that's tricky when you are in hospital and people keep asking you how you are. He is desperate to post messages on the blog, but doesn't really have the technology or stamina. He's starting to note down memories of the last week to make sure that he doesn't forget things before he shares them with you all.

One thing I wanted to share with you was a little about Will's last day with his old lungs. His last day at work involved a day-long hair straightener brainstorming session. As far as I can work out, this involved a room full of men wearing fake long curly hair and practising the straightening action. Will managed to strain his shoulder while doing this, such that he spent the evening wincing and complaining and demanding that I massage ibuprofen gel into him. I wasn't overly impressed by the lack of manly stoicism, and so wasn't particularly nice to him. So there's a lesson for all you husbands and wives out there! On the plus side, Will's sister and her husband had sent Will some amazing steaks as a belated birthday present, and we ate one each that evening. As he drove off to Papworth after we got the call, he remarked that he was pleased with his "last supper". I think if he'd known though, he'd have eaten it dripping with blood, as that pleasure is now a thing of the past.