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I have made it through to Thursday, which would be fine, except that I have a load of stuff due tomorrow which I won’t be able to do unless I continue to work through the evening or reschedule what I am doing tomorrow.

At present, given that I could just about lay my head on the keyboard and sleep until 2025, the latter is looking more likely. I lost a chunk of work time this week with the various hospital runs. I do not begrudge this time at all – and my work would be fine with me taking it all as leave, but a number of looming deadlines means that personal leave is just going to leave me like Douglas Adams – loving the sound of deadlines as they go whooshing past – unless I am careful.

The result has been a bit of overtime at home, which has left me v little time to wind down if I wanted to get to bed before 11pm. I did take my swimming gear to work today, thinking I might squeeze a cheeky few laps in, but by the time I had left work and dropped my dad’s iPad off to be fixed, it was getting late and I felt I would rather spend more time walking the dogs.

I left it until 10 am to phone my mother for an update, as I thought she may be enjoying a lie-in,  but there was no answer on her landline or mobile. Immediately visions of her lying trapped under a girder flashed through my mind, but fortunately it was followed by the more reasonable thought that she may have been out shopping.

I managed to get through to my father in hospital instead. He answered the phone straight away but I hardly recoginsied him. He sounded like Barry White. Must have been because of the anaesthetic. I asked him how he was going and he described it in glorious detail, adding that he was in some pain. I asked him if he had requested pain relief but he could not remember. What he could remember was the surgeon visiting and telling him he was going to pull the stent out before he left hospital. This I found odd, as I had specifically asked the surgeon about his and he had told me the stent would be in for quite a while. My father would not be dissuaded from this though, so I changed the subject.

He had heard from my mother, but was not sure if she would visit, he thought she had gone to the dentist, which seemed odd as she went on Tuesday. This happens a lot with my father, especially when he is in hospital which is pretty stressful. He gets some of the information but not all of it, but has an uncanny ability to remember some things exactly – like me telling the nurse he had difficulties with short-term memory, the swine.

I finally got through to mother, who had been at her doctor, not the dentist and was planning to visit dad that afternoon. I told her about the conversation with the surgeon, which seemed wrong and asked her to check it, plus make sure he was in no pain – he had complained of pain but coming in waves, which meant if a nurse asked him if he was OK between waves, he would say yes and then the pain would hit straight after.

Having located both parents and checked they were OK, I was able to spend the rest of the day catching up on my work and then dropped off my dad’s iPad, which is refusing to charge, to try and get that fixed. I will need to pick it up late tomorrow at some point, or hopefully Saturday. I think my mother feels the same way about my father as she is not fit enough herself to cope with an ill man in the house and would rather leave him to the tender mercies of the lovely nursies. I  am currently at home, tossing up whether to do a report now, which means I can go straight to the off site work tomorrow, or  go into the office first and get it done then. The office then is currently winning.

One lovely distraction today was that Adam Buxton has begun posting new podcasts – hurrah! And the first featured the brilliant Kathy Burke, who is quite the foulest mouthed creature but a writer and actor of great talent.  I snuck that in on the day’s commute and dog walk run.


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