Hands off my pie

Following a successful CT scan showing nothing out of the ordinary (other than Rach’s “special” brain), Rach is on the ward as of yesterday evening. She has her own room, which, whilst perfectly acceptable, regrettably does not benefit from wall art, green feature walls or an idyllic woodland scene screensaver on its air con controls. A strongly worded letter has been drawn up, addressed to Mr Hunt [insert expletives here], suggesting that achieving a consistency in the aesthetic suitability of board and lodgings across the hospital estate must surely replace the constant vilification and degradation of his weekend-workshy charges as his number one priority…I await his response.

Rachel remains tired but in good spirits. She had a seizure yesterday evening (the first for twenty-something hours) and has just had another mid-lunch. Despite this, coveting glances made toward her repast were swiftly dismissed.

Rachel has been up and about today under the strict supervision of the excellent resident physio. This included a few steps around the room and a wash in the en suite, culminating in a 40min stint in the chair.

As I sit here in yet another hospital room watching my beautiful wife sleep peacefully I am reminded of just how utterly surreal the last two months have been. It is incredible how easily one adapts to the “normality” of one’s circumstances no matter how far removed they are from those to which every shred of me is desperate to return. With luck it will be a matter of days until Rach can come home to her family and we can plough our efforts into smiles, laughter and cuddles.

I’ll try to update again tomorrow.

G

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