Man of the Woods is combining barley today.. in fact he’s still out there now, with our son corn carting on the tractor and trailer. He’ll go until damp air alters the cutability (I think I just made another word up) of the straw and he starts swearing from sorting blockages out. I’ve known him go to midnight before tiredness creeps over him.
I sat on the combine and kept him company for an hour and naturally he wanted to hear about my second hospital visit of the day. I bought sandwiches for lunch from the garage. Was not going to cook today!
So, mother.
When I tell you that the expertise of the NHS staff have lowered her sugars from 57 to 9.9 in thirty nine hours … and her keytones from 9 to 0.7, you’ll not be surprised that dad and I can’t sing their praises highly enough.
The diabetes consultant on duty at lunchtime was treated to a first class dressing down from the patient who is bloody lucky to still be alive. She cut him off at the knees verbally through the air mask, pointing her finger at him as she announced she was the creative ‘type’ and therefore was suffering from type5 diabetes and had he heard of it?
He was both slick and kind in his reply that he had indeed heard of the research but that presently in the UK, they still worked with Type 1 and Type 2. He went on to inform her that once she was stable, they would be introducing insulin injections alongside solid meals and they would teach her all she needed to know before being released but for the next few days, they had further observations to make.
I had four hours sleep last night so did grab a lie-in for half hour this morning, but dad didn’t sleep at all bless him, nor the night before when he phoned for the ambulance at 02:30.
We went in together this morning and each again a second time, coinciding for ten minutes. Then he came round for a beer in the garden … and enjoyed a debrief. He’s less worried about her now. 24 hours ago, they were saying ‘we’ll do all we can’. Tonight they’re saying all sorts of positive things but there’s still a long way to go.
The hallucinations make for interesting discussions.
‘Can you see the mist?’
‘The what, sorry?’
‘The mist’ she looked up to the ceiling. I looked up too and saw just the four square lights and a smoke alarm.
‘If you get up and walk round the bed, you’ll be in it.’
I purse my lips and watch the tea trolley on the other side of the 4-person ward,
‘Go on! Walk round!’ a little louder than I’d liked, I dutifully get up and move round the end of the bed.
‘See it?’
‘No mum, I don’t see it.’ I said it gently.
‘Oh, no – not you as well!’ 🙄 this emoji shows her face well ‘everyone says I’m going mad.’
‘It’s probably the medication.’ I suggest.. when actually in the back of my mind, something tells me hallucinations can be a side effect of a UTI. She’s on a hefty dose of antibiotics for infection that did mess with the sugars. Let’s just say there’s a lot going on.
‘Those white squares on the ceiling – they are where the mist comes from. They send it out in hospitals early evening to relax the patients.’
I didn’t argue.
I’m now worried about every single sweet treat I open. How much is too much?
Dad and I sat in Costa on the ground floor of the hospital and we had the most open chat I’ve ever had with him in my life. We both agreed if she makes it through, we are both going to be much stronger about doing what’s ‘right’ rather than sit back and watch her do it ‘her way’ when it’s so detrimental to her health. It was incredible to hear him tonight say ‘against my better judgment, I agreed to let her try her way.’
🌸
Meanwhile, Curtis Brown emailed asking for my first 3000 words and synopsis again as they decide who gets a place on their six-month online course. I’ll hear within a couple days I reckon.
Hope you’ve all had great day with lots of positivity in it
IdeasBecomeWords 