To say that we wake to the new day would be imply that we have slept. We haven't.
Peter continues to be monitored regularly. As through the night, he is on hourly liquid morphine if he needs it. He does. He is, and continues to be, a greyish green in the face. He doesn't want to eat. I'm grateful to have tea and cereal. I'm happy to drink many cups of hsopital tea of a strength that I wouldn't normally contemplate.
I'm offered a towel and go to the loo cum wetroom for a shower...using the antiseptic handwash liquid as shampoo and shower gel. On with the vest again, but I have no other clothes.
Thee day passes...time has no meaning. Nurses and doctors come and go. Peter is reclining on his pillows and we alter the angle by using the raising and lowering controls on the side of the bed. (A husband one can contol by pressing buttons! - excellent!)
By mid afternoon I go in search of more food, and track down some sandwiches. Peter eats some bananas through the day. He can't fancy anything more substantial. Otherpeople are moved on from the ward to wards where they will be staying for longer. It's obvious that you don't get to hang around here.
We set up the over the bed telephone service - no mobile signal in the hospital - and I can talk to members of the family. Peter doesn't feel up to it. He looks very poorly and is in a lot of pain.
Visiting time in the afternoon and then in the evening. I'm hoping to stay another night by Peter's side. But there's a change of shift and a change of attitude. 9pm and I'm told I have to go. Peter is upset but, apparently, 'rules is rules'. I can't come back until visiting hour the following afternoon.
I don't know where I am and feel mentally very confused. I'm still in shock. A male nurse takes pity on me and suggests various hotels. He goes further along the corridor and turns on a computer to search for minicab firms. Would I like him to order one? Yes, please? He does, tells the taxi where I'm going and then tells me where the taxi will come to.
I've stashed most of our belongings into Peter's locker and set off through the deserted hospital to the car park. The taxi arrives and takes me to a Travelodge, where I take a room. I can't operate the card key - I've never stayed in a Travelodge before, so down I go to Reception again. The girl activates another key. It doesn't work so I have to take the lift down yet again. I feel desperate to be in a room...so tired. She comes with me this time. Ah, you have to put the card in and then take it out again before the door will open!
A basic (if expensive) room but it has all I need. I unwrap another sandwich, make some decaf coffee and spend a little time playing Bejewelled to take my mind off things before I fall asleep.
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