13 October 2012
Today turned out to be a pretty good one. The new morning regime is settling in. Whereas previously I would almost be woken up by ‘my lovely’ at 6.30, now I wait for the carers to come in at 7.30. Previously ‘my lovely’ prior to the carers coming in, had exercised my legs; given me my tea; given me my morning pills; given me my breakfast and shaved me. Now nothing is done. The only problem is that I am tending to wake up pretty much as I have done these past few months, at 6.30, or before, and it is this hour or one and a half hours that I am having to fight off pain. So what blesses one does not always bless all.
The district nurse, dropped in unannounced early this morning and casually let drop that we have been approved for a further one hour a day. This is terrific news as by spreading it over the four visits it will take the pressure from the carers.
Two or three times a day ‘my lovely’ has been making a valiant attempt to record my blood pressure. It certainly has not been anywhere as near as high as it was in Papworth (200+/103). On Monday, when Dr West returns to retrieve her blood pressure monitor, she will decide, what, if anything, needs to be done about my raised blood pressure.
I believe one of the boxes that the team have to tick, in order to get this increase in time, is that I am most likely to die within three months! Of course, there is no contract between me and social services, who are responsible for granting this extra time, so whatever boxes have been ticked, they have not been sanctioned by me. So, if I do hang around a little more than three months there can be no redress expected from me!. It is reminiscent of the Devil in Gounod’s Faust, where I played the priest in perfectly standard performances for the public. But in order to understand what I’m talking about the reader would need to see that part of my autobiography, which covers my time at Sadlers Wells. We have yet to determine how to use this extra time, but my own personal preference would be at least to let the carers feed me at lunchtime and at 6 30. As they are already doing breakfast, this means that ‘my lovely’ will be relieved of all feeding duties. However, I have to persuade her of the benefit first.
What impresses me is that we were only talking about asking the district nurse to drop in to look at a persistent itchy spot on my back a couple of days ago, and again this morning and, like the genie from Aladdin’s lamp she appear all the smiling and charming, ready to grant our wishes..