A Dire Week

 For several days I had been getting night sweats, and my temperature spiked to 39+C. Finally I phoned the GP and was surprised to be given an appointment the same morning. He diagnosed a chest infection and started antibiotics, which seemed to do the trick. But then, for a few days, Ann was ill with a fast pulse reaching 150+, and a feeling of pressure on her chest with breathlessness. At first she thought it was heat exhaustion from the unseasonably hot weather we had had (it reached 40C on one day - a UK record). But as it went on, she too phoned the GP on the Monday after I'd seen him.

Ann, 24 hours in a chair 

We really cannot fault Dr Bone. He ordered Ann straight down to the surgery, listened to her heart, and sent her up to see nurse for an ECG which he reviewed with her as soon as it was ready. He looked serious and said she would have to go to hospital at once, through the A&E department as an urgent assessment. He even phoned the hospital to prepare them to take her through as quickly as possible. But at the hospital things happened less smoothly. I was not allowed in due to persistent Covid restrictions, so left her at the door, going on to wait at Edwin's for further news. It was six hours before Ann was finally seen for a blood test and repeat ECG. The A&E department was overwhelmed with patients, many standing waiting, others sitting on the floor for want of chairs. They could not find even a trolly bed for Ann, but when I finally visited late at night she was in a tiny curtained-off bay next to resuscitation, still in a chair like a dentist's chair, but old and worn with the lining coming through. She was confined to that chair for 24 hours, with sleep impossible, and the following afternoon had been given nothing to eat nor even a cup of tea. Edwin brought some juice and sandwiches, and later in the evening she was transferred to an "assessment" ward. There, she did have a bed, but it was complete bedlam with beds being wheeled in and out all night, demented patients shouting for attention, a psychotic patient screaming about the voices telling him to end his life, and some violent drunk being restrained by the police who had to be called. The old lady in the bed next to Ann finally went silent: she had died there alone. 

Next day, I was finally able to take Ann home. She had probably had a heart attack, Although the gap of a few days meant the acute changes were missed. Ann was put on  a beta-blocker to control the heart rate and anticoagulants to prevent blood clots breaking free with the potential to cause a stroke, and an appointment with the cardiologist tomorrow. Later we heard that that Monday was their all-time busiest on record, to the point where they would have to close A&E completely and divert all ambulances to other hospitals. Ann is still getting very tired, but hopefully is on the mend, and we will finally get the verdict of a consultant soon.

Picnic by the sea

 

The sun sets over camp

What a glorious end to a wonderful day we had yesterday. Ben and Kaz had been to stay for a couple of nights as a break from their camping holiday, and yesterday they invited us to join them on the campsite for a day of total relaxation and being spoilt.

The campsite was idyllic, a quiet field overlooking the sea, yet with full amenities. It even provided picnic tables above the cliff edge, though Bronte provided a moment of drama when she slipped her collar and wandered up to the edge.

They cooked a great barbeque, with lamb kebabs and sausages for themselves and veggie burgers for us - the most tasteful we've had, served with wine and salad. Later, Kaz cooked melted marshmallows on skewers for desert. The barbeque was later converted into a fire pit, heaped high with driftwood to provide a welcome blaze as the day grew colder. Even that was not without incident, as the wind caught one of the chairs after we left, toppling it into the fire where it immediately melted the plastic and started burning merrily, till they threw copious water over it.

A warm welcome from Ben

Among other problems, I seem to feel the cold more than I used to. Ben and Ann between them solved this by wrapping me in Ann's coat and scarf, and a snoodie from Ben = a thick hooded wearable blanket that left me looking like Obi-Wan Kenobi, but was incredibly warm. Then, as darkness fell, we reluctantly had to head for home. It has made us realise, though, how good life could be if we had our own motorhome to take to places like this. We could stay up as long as we wished, drink all we wanted, then just roll into bed! Ideal.

I warm up in Ben's snoodie

A belated but welcome Father's Day

Ann adjusts her scarf before tackling Cocktail in a Book

We went to see Union Gap in Haverhill on Thursday, a real blast from the past. The group had performed such hits as Woman, Woman, Young Girl, and Lady Willpower, back in the 60's-70's, so it was a night of happy nostalgia.  

With most of the children living far away and Edwin and Andre in Oxford, we celebrated a very quiet Father's Day last week: just Ann and I over a good meal she had prepared. Last night, Edwin and Andre compensated in style, taking us to Sakura, a brilliant Sushi restaurant in Bury. It was up to anything we had had in Japan, a lovely drawn-out meal with good wine and conversation. It only opened just before lockdowns, but has built a good reputation with many repeat visitors from far afield.

We left well satisfied, so walked in the cool air to let it settle. Except we were drawn into a Nightclub/Speakeasy bar down one of the little side streets. Bury-St-Edmunds is a remarkably lively town late at night, a place we oldies would never see without the boys leading us there.  The Speakeasy, hidden downstairs, was still closed through staff shortages, but the bar upstairs was full and lively. 

They had a stack of games including Perudo, which we played with noisy enthusiasm. Each player has their own dice cup and set of dice which are thrown in secret. There follows a round of gusty bluffing and bidding until someone calls a challenge. The loser of the challenge forfeits a dice, and the game continues until there is just one player - the winner. Edwin and I were out quickly, but Ann, with her perfect poker face for such games, battled gamely on until Andre just pipped her when each had one dice. Almost incidental to the dice game, we had cocktails - Ann's naturally hidden in a book, Andre's in a smoking fairy grotto, then back to the boys' for more drinks or - in my case - a simple tea. It was very late then, near half-past midnight, and though the boys could go on all night and Ann for another hour, I was exhaused and could only shuffle to the car to get home and crawl into bed.