What a disaster!

What a disaster! Our holiday was one of the worst we’ve ever had. Why? After the first couple of days spent in Bergen, one very wet one spent just relaxing at the hotel recovering from the travelling & one with a very pleasant walk discovering the city, we then had an accident with my wheelchair, causing the front castor to come off. Fortunately we were just around the corner from the hotel so the Fox managed to wheel me round on my back wheels. The hotel managed to fix it somehow but now I wait for the wheelchair repair service to come to check it out.

The next day we set off to the cruise ship. That was the Saturday. By Monday the Fox was not feeling well. We thought it was just a cold at first but it continued to get worse. We tried to get off the ship on Tuesday to explore Trondheim, but the Fox was soon having to sit down, unable to breathe. That was our last venture off the ship until we got back to Bergen over a week later.

The rest of the trip was spent with him predominantly in bed, half sleeping, eating only a small bowl of soup a day. His appetite had totally gone, along with is ability to swallow even if he did try anything more solid. He had a raging temperature, going from burning up one minute to shivering, icily cold & clammy the next.

Last Sunday we arrived back at Manchester airport. By then the Fox was having to stop to sit down to recover on a regular basis. He was looking grey & had visibly lost a lot of weight. The taxi driver kindly stopped & popped into a shop for some milk for us so we could have a cup of tea when we got home.

On Monday, I was on the phone organising a doctor’s appointment. I obviously got the urgency of the problem through to them & they got me an appointment for an hour later. When we got to the surgery we were told to go straight to the hospital, to A&E. He had pneumonia & possible sepsis. I suggested stopping at home to collect a few overnight things but was told no. If I wanted to do that, she would phone for an ambulance immediately. Indeed it would be best if I drove us straight in. If he got any worse on the way I was to phone 999 & get help. Needless to say I drove straight in.

He was admitted to the Acute Medical Ward. There he started a whole battery of tests. Meanwhile I got home and tried to get the essentials for a hospital stay. A second trip to the hospital in time for him to be moved from A&E to the ward. I soon realised I’d forgotten some things, in particular some sandals he uses as slippers & the book he is in the midst of reading.

When afternoon visiting was over, I went home once more, made up another parcel of things he needed & turned my attention to how I was going to get back again. On the last trip, when I was on my own, I’d had a long push in my wheelchair to be rescued by an ambulance man who’d assumed I was the patient by the time I’d reached him. By now I was exhausted. Indeed my driving had been erratic on the way home, bouncing on the road edge as my concentration went. I had little cash for a taxi. In the end I decided my best bet was to ring a friend & see if she could drive me in. She did.

As I waited for my friend’s arrival to take me, I thought I’d best get onto Social Services to sort out my care. One thing I can’t do myself is get myself into bed. I would need help. They couldn’t get anything organised until Tuesday.

I still hadn’t had anything more than a slice of toast in the morning to eat. The food I thought I could solve by suggesting my friend stopped at the takeaway just around the corner & get something, anything, for me to eat. The bed was a different matter. I popped next door to our neighbour to see if he could help. I assured him I would have got changed into nightwear. I just needed help to pull off my knee braces & my legs lifting onto the bed around the bed cradle. After that I would be okay. He agreed to pop round when he saw I was back & do that much. I then got myself ready for my third trip to the hospital.

When we came back from the hospital we found the takeaway was closed so no food. At home I found some cup-a-soup, made that up & thought that would do for that day.

Wednesday saw me off on my Mean Machine, electric mobility scooter, to the surgery with my repeat prescription, into the little supermarket for a couple of microwave meals & some bread. I also got some cash. I only had Norwegian kroner, not much use in England. I made myself a tuna mayo sandwich to make up for my lack of food the day before. Then I checked if Social Services had sorted out some care for me. Yes they had. They would be coming lunchtime, teatime & evening. I felt I could start to relax.

When they came to sort out my evening meal the Fox rang to say they’d started him on some antibiotics & was to come home, though he was to return on Thursday for further tests.  As soon as I’d finished eating, I hot-paced into Lancaster yet again to fetch the Fox home. He seemed no better than when he had arrived.

At least he is home now. The Social Service care has stopped. He’s managed to eat a little – half a sandwich per day, a poached egg on half a dozen chips one day, & a spoonful of  my second microwave meal so far. We’re just getting through it a day at a time.

The trip to the hospital yesterday revealed that, from his bloods, he was on the mend. When he is fully well he is to see his GP about some breathing tests. He was been warned it will take a while before he is fully well as he has been seriously ill.

I have managed to get us unpacked & the washing done. The ironing is for tomorrow. The suitcases litter the bedroom floor. I can’t manage to put them away properly, nor can he. I’ve managed to sort out the pile of post that arrived while we were away. Now I’ve got to sort out some bills that arrived while we were away. We’ve yet to do any major shopping, and of course, with having been on holiday, we’ve hardly got anything in the fridge or any fresh foods.

The Fox meanwhile is feeling “as weak as a kitten”. He’s spending most of his time in bed or stretched out on the sofa. A little activity exhausts him. I’m getting pretty exhausted myself, though I am at least sleeping better for having him home where I can keep an eye on him & I don’t need to keep driving into Lancaster to the hospital. Leaning against each other, we’re keeping going & propping one another up once more. As he sleeps/dozes, I try to relax too.