The respite was short. One night in the hospital, 1.5 litres of "fluid" the colour of a gold beer taken from the pleural sac and two antibiotics to take. The first night out he slept like a baby, last night he managed six hours, which is good, except at 5 o'clock this morning his coughing woke me, he was then hungry, and he wanted a coffee, and then at 6 the granddaughter could be heard saying she was hungry (she slept here as her mom was out on her works Christmas do.)
So by half past six, I was up, I had made sausage sandwiches for the pair and on retrieving the plate, Mike was back asleep. He didn't reawaken until nine.
I'm exhausted.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Sunday, 23 December 2018
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)