Lockdown Diary - Sunday 5th April 2020
Sunday morning lie in till 8am. That's my normal goal. In practice I'm always disturbed around 7am by the arrival of the first carer of the day who comes to do meds and disconnect the overnight feed pump from my wife. As I am a very light sleeper, mostly, I always hear the key safe being opened and them entering the house, when it's not even warmed up a bit. Today was no different. I always try and return to slumber, but in truth, having someone who isn't part of your family roaming downstairs, is always slightly disconcerting, no matter how well you know them or trust them. To be fair they are always good, but when you provide open access to a wide range of healthcare and care professionals, things are never the same. You get used to it. You get used to anything eventually, of course. It just never feels quite the same again. In some small way, your freedom to do as you please in your home is reduced, but of course it can be no other way.
By 10am I was already on my second washing load - having a bed bound wife means there is washing every day: the only decision is whether you can leave it a day or two to get a bigger load. Once various chores too tedious to report again here were done, I stopped, had some breakfast and prepared to read The Observer, now on delivery, unlike last Sunday.
The weather is gorgeous outside, so hanging out washing is quite relaxing, to the accompaniment of birds singing and the random flight of Cabbage Whites. Once the second wash is hung out, I'm planning to chill with the papers, though the floor of my office is strewn with documents, letters and other miscellanea, and I may have to sort that first as it's beginning to drive me mad. (I have a reasonable tolerance for chaos - I do work in IT, after all - but, even for me, who doesn't mind a bit of accessible disorder, there is a limit)
Best laid plans and all that: it's getting on for 3pm and still haven't managed to turn a leaf of the newspaper. Why not? Well, my wife's catheter has been bypassing overnight and today and after the last carer visit (which generated the third wash load of the day), I decided that if it didn't start flowing, I'd have to try and flush it. Nothing in the leg bag. Nothing flowing. Damn.
[Side note: Normally the Community Nurses flush the catheter, but a couple of weeks ago one of them asked me if I'd be happy to be trained to do it because they were getting stretched and only expected things to get worse due to the virus. Naturally I said yes, as they do so much for us, so I thought if I could help out it would maybe make a small difference. I've attempted it twice now, and on both occasions the catheter has been completely blocked. Did have a nice acetic acid shower the first time (Applied too much pressure!)]
Flush attempted, but unsuccessful, so I've had to call on the out of hours service who will, at some point today, come out and change the catheter, something I cannot do.
On the plus side I have tidied my office a fair bit (filing still to be done) and written and posted two birthday cards whilst getting in some officially sanctioned exercise and fresh air.
OOH Nurse has been, catheter's changed, again. Things are back to normal. I just have to flush the catheter more regularly - as soon as I see sediment building up, or the carers do, I have to flush. Twice a week. Maybe thrice.
Read the papers. Read the 'Wake. Brought the washing in. Yay! Party! Now have wine. Next music. Loud. Not yet decided what is called for.
[Listened to the new albums by Youth & Jah Wobble ('Acid Punk Dub Apocalypse'), The Orb ('Abolition of the Royal Familia'), Steely Dan (several), and Suede's crowning glory - 2018's 'The Blue Hour', from which...]
Suede crop up twice in one day, here's the achingly beautiful 'All The Wild Places'
By 10am I was already on my second washing load - having a bed bound wife means there is washing every day: the only decision is whether you can leave it a day or two to get a bigger load. Once various chores too tedious to report again here were done, I stopped, had some breakfast and prepared to read The Observer, now on delivery, unlike last Sunday.
The weather is gorgeous outside, so hanging out washing is quite relaxing, to the accompaniment of birds singing and the random flight of Cabbage Whites. Once the second wash is hung out, I'm planning to chill with the papers, though the floor of my office is strewn with documents, letters and other miscellanea, and I may have to sort that first as it's beginning to drive me mad. (I have a reasonable tolerance for chaos - I do work in IT, after all - but, even for me, who doesn't mind a bit of accessible disorder, there is a limit)
Best laid plans and all that: it's getting on for 3pm and still haven't managed to turn a leaf of the newspaper. Why not? Well, my wife's catheter has been bypassing overnight and today and after the last carer visit (which generated the third wash load of the day), I decided that if it didn't start flowing, I'd have to try and flush it. Nothing in the leg bag. Nothing flowing. Damn.
[Side note: Normally the Community Nurses flush the catheter, but a couple of weeks ago one of them asked me if I'd be happy to be trained to do it because they were getting stretched and only expected things to get worse due to the virus. Naturally I said yes, as they do so much for us, so I thought if I could help out it would maybe make a small difference. I've attempted it twice now, and on both occasions the catheter has been completely blocked. Did have a nice acetic acid shower the first time (Applied too much pressure!)]
Flush attempted, but unsuccessful, so I've had to call on the out of hours service who will, at some point today, come out and change the catheter, something I cannot do.
On the plus side I have tidied my office a fair bit (filing still to be done) and written and posted two birthday cards whilst getting in some officially sanctioned exercise and fresh air.
OOH Nurse has been, catheter's changed, again. Things are back to normal. I just have to flush the catheter more regularly - as soon as I see sediment building up, or the carers do, I have to flush. Twice a week. Maybe thrice.
Read the papers. Read the 'Wake. Brought the washing in. Yay! Party! Now have wine. Next music. Loud. Not yet decided what is called for.
[Listened to the new albums by Youth & Jah Wobble ('Acid Punk Dub Apocalypse'), The Orb ('Abolition of the Royal Familia'), Steely Dan (several), and Suede's crowning glory - 2018's 'The Blue Hour', from which...]
Suede crop up twice in one day, here's the achingly beautiful 'All The Wild Places'
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