the delectable dr. neph, phwoar!

Last week (Wednesday, Day 162, NO DIALYSIS!!!) Blokey attended Hospital again for his hernia operation.  I haven’t slept well since then; I don’t think I ever do.  Partly because I don’t like being on my own (although I’m used to it) and partly because I worry about Blokey.

I spent most of Wednesday evening panicking that Blokey would forget to take his immunosuppressants as there was nobody at Hospital to nag him.  Mumsy was about to ring the ward to enquire when Blokey suddenly replied to my texting/ringing and I was able to stop crying.

We toddled off to see him on Thursday.  He was in oodles of pain and very groggy.  Occasionally he coughed.  When they later discovered that his temperature was a little over what it should be they panicked him by suggesting that he had an infection and thus would need a chest x-ray.  He had the chest x-ray at one in the morning.  Stupid O’Clock.  Friday saw his drains and catheter being removed, and he was cough free.

On Saturday the Delectable Dr. Neph, Phwoar! came round whilst I was there.  He’s our favourite kidney doctor, although Blokey’s reasons for liking him are probably different to mine.  He snuffed the idea of there ever being any infection and decided that their idea of intravenous antibiotics was a tad over the top, prescribing tablets instead.  He also listened to Blokey when he said that he needed to take a loading dose of warfarin, agreeing that Blokey knows how his body works.  The one brilliant aspect of being treated reguarly in the same Hospital is that you get to know the people treating you and, perhaps more importantly, they get to know you.  It can make a huge difference when you suddenly feel as though you’ve got someone on your side.

Anyhoo, the Delectable Dr. Neph, Phwoar! made a note that he was happy for Blokey to be discharged, poo-pending.  The surgeon still has to agree, but twenty-one hours later Blokey is still waiting to see him.  And there is still the matter of the pending-poo, which is refusing to be forthcoming despite laxatives and suppositories declaring war on Blokey’s anatomy.  I have been reliably informed that there is lots of wind though!  I imagine the issue is a psychological one; Blokey doesn’t want to strain his tummy and find that POP!!! there’s the hernia again!

As of now, I have no idea if he will be home tonight or tomorrow.  I have fluffed up the cushions and stocked the cupboards with soup in anticipation.  I’m just unsure as to whether I should hoover or not.  Or even if I need to hoover.  Ack, that can wait.  I might make myself a badge reading ‘Nurse’ ready for the next two weeks (which nicely coincide with my Easter hols from work).  Perhaps I should have splashed out on a nurses outfit too …

(Day 166, NO DIALYSIS!!!)


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