Hospitals and Wormeries... Aaagh!

Rod will have been in hospital for three weeks on Tuesday. They said it would take three weeks for the entire stem cell transplant procedure, but they didn’t reckon on the chemotherapy sending his kidneys into hibernation. It would seem that the kidneys are lazy organs. That’s what the specialist said, and now they need to be coaxed into working again. The doctors are hoping to avoid dialysis because of the risk of infection but the machine is all set up and ready beside his bed just in case.

While he’s in hospital I’m in charge at home. I’ve managed to get the recycling sorted. The composting regime is easy but I made the mistake of buying Rod a wormery for his birthday earlier this year. A colony of worms is one responsibility too many. Those who know me well, know how much I loathe worms. If I touch a worm while I’m gardening the entire street knows about it but I overcame the fear. I had to. Rod’s wormery was letting in water. Some worms have drowned. I was mortified. I may not like them but I didn’t mean to kill them. The main problem is that it will not stop raining! So I’ve turned the mixture to let in some air. I’ve stirred in paper and oats to dry them out. Today I moved them all into the shed... without screaming once. Who’d have thought it?

Not all of my additional responsibilities are yuk, for example taking Josh-the-dog for his evening walk. The evening walk was always, always Rod’s job but I’m starting to quite enjoy it... if only it would stop raining! It hasn’t stopped raining since the day after Rod went into hospital. He’d set up an elaborate array of watering cans etc to make it easier for me to water all the pots but I haven’t had to use them once. I’m starting to wonder if someone up there has noticed the title of my blog and decided to be ironic!

Rod is still not able to eat solids, his kidneys are still struggling, his resistance is rock bottom because of the high-dose chemotherapy and he’s very weak but he is really hoping to be home by next weekend or the beginning of the following week. I hope he’s not disappointed. I guess you’ll all be relieved too because it’ll mean that I’ll stop moaning on about hospitals and treatments and start talking about something more interesting instead so, for all our sakes, here’s hoping.

...and now I’m writing in a downpour

I may have mentioned before the reason for the name of my blog. Bear with me if I’m becoming repetitious. It’s not old age so much as stress... I hope. I’m writing in the rain because Rod has been heading for a stem cell transplant since I set this blog up last year, but right now the blog should be called ‘writing in a downpour’.

This week has been grim. Rod has been on morphine most of the time. Visiting times have consisted of me sitting staring at him... but yesterday when I arrived he was sitting up sipping a cup of tea. He asked normal questions like ‘Has the Bank Statement arrived?’ It was brilliant. He’s not through the worst quite yet. They’re concerned about his kidneys and he may have to go onto dialysis for a few days but he’s talking and thinking. He’s more like my Rod.

I’m feeling overloaded at the moment. I’d like to wrap myself in fluffy pink candy floss and not have to face the world but it looks like the world needs me. Josh-the-dog had his stitches out on Thursday after a lump (a nasty one as it turned out) was removed from his thigh. It’s healing well at the moment but he’s still consigned to the bucket when I go out and at bedtimes because he wants to pick the last few scabs off. You can’t blame him. There’s something irresistible about a crunchy, black scab. But he’s happy and eating and roaring round the park after his ball so fingers crossed...

What’s more I am truly writing this in a downpour, not just my metaphorical one. I now know why my dog-walking coat is called shower-proof and not water-proof. It’s a horrible feeling when icy rain trickles down your back. Still, at least the weather has provided me with one positive. I’ve not got to water the garden while Rod’s in hospital. In fact, it’s all looking green and lush and I know he’ll be delighted when he’s sitting right here looking at it... and so will I.