So, there's been radio silence from us for a few days. Will has been having a rough time - I can't believe people ever have this operation as a day case. He's had a lot of pain, a LOT of nausea, hot and cold flashes, dizziness... The whole thing has not been the walk in the park the docs tried to say it would be (though Will never believed them anyway). He's on a random vascular ward, because that's where there was a bed, and no one is interested in fundoplications, calorie intake or transplants. There's been a cannula and IV/oral meds saga, explosive diarrhoea (sorry), an unexpected catheter requirement and a whole load of dry retching. He seems to have turned a corner today, perhaps, and is planning on coming home tomorrow, armed with paracetamol and oral ondansetron (sp?).
To add EXTRA fun to our lives, I've got the first proper cold I've had for about two years, so haven't been to see Will for a few days. The plan, however, is that tomorrow I will wake up miraculously healed, decontaminate the house, change the bed sheets, not cough, and go and get Will from Addenbrooke's. We then embark on the next phase: Calorie Maximisation From Liquid Foods While Experiencing Constant Nausea and Stomach Pain. Ah, grant us strength to get through the days and weeks to come...
So, what's a sad and cold-ridden young woman to do on a Friday night when her husband is having a miserable time in hospital? The answer seems to involve pyjamas, series 3 of Sex and the City and a box of chocolate eclairs... Do women just want to be rescued? Ha!
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1 week ago