Infection, infection, infection...

Mr G has an infection in his drain wound.  Standard.  The District Nurse came out to redress his wounds and immediately phoned the surgery for antibiotics.  He's in a lot of pain, but not complaining very much at all, which is unlike him.  The complaints have been coming from me, today.  Our new orthopaedic mattress seems to have cured my back problems by about 90%.  So, not pain free as such, but still, that's an impressive improvement.  Life changing for me after years of pain, from the moment I wake until I go to sleep.

Until today, where I am mid-sciatica attack, the spasms in my back coming in painful waves, radiating down my left leg.  I tried to explain to Mr G that I'd lived with the pain for so long, that it was familiar but unwelcome all the same.  I have no strong painkillers left - I've had no need to renew the prescription.  I know what the issue is.  The bloody camp bed.  My bed since Saturday night, while Mr G lies next to me on the sofa.  And as much as I don't think I can take another night on it (or the pain the next day), I won't leave him on his own.  When he wakes, I wake, and I get him his pain relief.  So he's trying to convince me that it will be safe for us to sleep together, but I know I'll probably end up kneeing him in his stomach or something... Ah well, the things you do for love, eh?

Insanity uttered from my family this week includes...

Lying in the dark in the living room...

Mr G: Thank you

Me: What for?

Mr G: Looking after me.  Doing everything.

Me: It's only what I do anyway, isn't it?

Mr G: I know... But.  What would I have done now, if I didn't have you to look after me?

Me: You'd have gone in a home.

Mr G: Yeah, one of those Clairvoyant homes.

Me: Convalescent?

Mr G: That's what I said?

Discussing the District Nurse's visit and Mr G's er... Current (lack of) hygiene issues...

Mr G: I'll have to be hosed down before she comes.

Me: I'll give you a strip wash in a bowl if you like?

Mr G: Maybe I could go for a shower?

Me: Are you meant to get the dressings wet?

Mr G: No...

 

Me: I'll do you in here then and get you dressed in clean clothes.

Caitlin: Why are you going to be washing him?

Me: Well, his nether regions and the like... You know... Need a scrunchie and a threat of Lynx?

Caitlin: *mutters* nether regions... Nether regions?

Me: You know... Down below?

We watch as the penny drops, and her look of confusion turns to abject disgust...

Caitlin: Oh Mum, can't you just... baby wipe him or... something?

Well, being the dutiful wife I am, I can proudly say, I did not 'just baby wipe' the love of my life.  However... I couldn't find a bowl in which to wash him in.  So.  I used a cat litter tray.  We don't have a cat, by the way.  Never have.  Don't ask.  I couldn't tell you.  Welcome to my world.  

In other news, the usual scaremongering about the weather, the impending snow etc... zzzzzzz... It's not going to happen.  Not on Anglesey.  Nevertheless, my Mother has brought forward her weekly shopping trip to Morrisons by a whole day (because the weather is going to be awful from Thursday) so tomorrow morning, I shall be escaping for a whole hour, to panic buy carbs and three boxes of wine.  Happy Days!