silly billy

Blokey and I haven’t been away together since our first anniversary weekend in 2007.  It’s not that we haven’t tried, it’s simply that other things have cropped up.  Like an illness. 


I should have known something would go wrong when I booked a weekend away for our anniversary this year.


We woke up at some ridiculous hour on Friday morning and, having packed our things in the car, we arrived at dialysis bright and early.  We ate toast and drank tea, and I read my book and enjoyed watching Nicky Wire and the new Manics video on BBC Breakfast.  With an hour or so to go, I toddled off for a walk and a spot of people-watching. 

When I next saw Blokey he looked like shit.  Pale, with big bags under his eyes and he needed to hold onto me to keep himself steady.  I don’t know how he got out of the dialysis centre without them spotting he was in such a bad way, but he did. The fact that his BP was fine (by his standards) probably helped.

So, we had lunch at the hospital, instead of stopping somewhere on our way to the hotel.  Blokey had a sip of my tea, but was worried about drinking because he wanted to enjoy himself and not think too much about fluid whilst we were away.

Yes, in hindsight I should have realised immediately that the silly bugger had taken off too much fluid and was incredibly dehydrated.  It wasn’t until we were nearly at our destination (only a hundred miles from home, but far enough for someone to drive who isn’t really up to it!) that he had a drink, and suddenly felt a little better.

In consequence, he felt like poo for most of the weekend, but I know he felt really bad about it.  Part of me was sympathetic, but another part wanted to shake him by the balls and ask him why he always insists on ruining our special time together.  That makes me feel like a complete b!tch, yet everytime we arrange something nice he gets ill.

Or maybe he always is ill and it only becomes more apparent when we’re away from our comfort zone.

That thought makes me feel even more of a b!tch.

Still, it was a delightful weekend.  We saw hills (we live in a very flat area of England) and gorgeous autumnal colours.  I spent a lot of time marvelling at how much the landscape in the UK can change in just a few short miles, and became mildly claustrophobic as I felt the hills closing in on me!  We saw squiggle-squirrels and attempted not to get hit by golf balls after posh breakfasts in an old priory.

And now we are home.

Blokey began using his fistula again on Monday.  He says it’s really painful when the needles go in.  I said had they not mentioned a cream.  He said no.  I offered to find out the name of it on  I forgot.

His Blood Baby has all but disappeared; once the blood began to disperse, it did so remarkably quickly.  And at the same time his dangerously high potassium levels have gone from heart-attack inducing to relatively normal.  A week ago they kept pestering him about his diet … we knew it wasn’t his diet!  Pesky nursing staff.

On Monday I oggled Nicky Wire (and the rest of the Manic Street Preachers) in the flesh. 




  1. Gregory reckons they used to take off too much fluid on purpose back in his day. They had more control over their machines then, by the sounds of things. All you had to do was keep your shit together long enough to get weighed on the way out, NOT pass out, and get outside, and you were set for that extra glass of water. Jeez shmeez.

    You may be a bitch but it can be very good to have a bitch on your side sometimes, if blokey doesn’t know that yet then one day he will. My mother in law is a very very tough old bitch and that seems to have kept her going through her recent travails. So tonight I applaud all bitches and hard-arsed females. Here’s to us all.

    Nicky Wire? Must be some cute thing… cute bloke I assume? Hey I saw this woman walking down the street today, holey dooley. You know the way sometimes you’ll have a button up shirt and the front button has come undone, or maybe you undid it yourself to be a bit how’dyou do? Well this shirt was not just undone one button, but two or three, and peeled off her left shoulder, with a white bra underneath. This was a lady in her forties. I was like, dude, your shirt is *coming off*!!! deal with it! Boobs all hitched up, and all va-va-voom in the rain.

  2. Nicky Wire is indeed a cute bloke, although I prefer James Dean Bradfield (but he wasn’t on the tellybox due to being ill, and when we saw them in concert on Monday we could see Nicky remarkably well and James less so, mainly because other people’s heads were in the way.) They’re in my favourite band, The Manic Street Preachers. I’ve only seen them a few times (six, if we’re being precise) but I realised this week that the first time I saw them live was when I was 18 in 1992, making it exactly half my lifetime ago. Yikes! I feel so old.

    And speaking of old, and in reference to your comment, I sometimes walk down the street now wondering if I look silly. I mean, I recently bought a pair of flowery DMs (I used to live in DMs, but haven’t owned any since about 2002,) and I love them to bits, but I do worry that young folk look at me as if I’m slightly doolally and far too old for that sort of thing.

    Oh, and speaking of doolally, I think I saw my future last week. There was a tellybox programme on called Mad Cats and Englishwomen and I just fell in love with the idea of saving cats and wearing tea-cosies on my head. I worry that I’ll be widowed earlier than most women, but at least now I know what I can do if this happens.


    (Hope your MiL is recovering well.)

  3. Perhaps we can be old cat widows in docs together 🙂
    Rushing off to hospital again now, to hold hand before and after today’s test on the husband who is also in hospital for a form of pneumonia. MIL is recovering well I hear. They are in separate hospitals (of course) so I haven’t been in to see her for a week but I have heard reports.

  4. Pneumonia? Yikes. Just toddled off to to see if you’d mentioned it there and read your post. Poor thing (that applies to both of you.) I can imagine the thoughts that must be running through your head, and I really hope that your fears are unjustified at this present time (< that sounds very formal but I wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you both before I collapse into bed.)


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