a&e rbh

Around noon today I checked the chickens, they’d both been very good and had both laid their eggs and left them alone (they were both cold) - well done girls. Since they’d been so good I allowed them to roam the garden for as long as they wanted my softer side showed it’s full force and they dined as eloquently as two prize winning hens could on some hob nobs that I’d been saving for them.

The wife was waiting to see the doctors today so she could be discharged, but the day drifted on, afternoon came and went. The chickens rejoiced scratching and pecking in the garden all afternoon. Eventually I had the call from the dear wife to pick her up from the hospital so the chooks had to go back to their coop. Not a bad sunny day for them to be out though.

The trip to the RBH today hopefully should be the last. Dear wife was discharged with some antibiotic tablets (she was on a antibiotic drip whilst on the ward) named Co-amoxiclav.

In total the car park fees came in at:

I know the hospital has saved her life, but the parking fee just seems to be to be a bit of a hidden tax, I’m only saying this as NHS health care is already paid for in the form of mandatory tax, but car parking seems to be a lot like another way to extract VAT. I’d prefer it if partners and visitors could be handed something when they visit the ward to enable them free exit from the car park. I’d use my bike, honestly to get some excise but I cannot take dear child on the back so easily.

I don’t mind paying the parking what I mind is that I’m already under enough stress to look after dear child and having to remember to take my wallet with me when I leave the house is harder than normal right now as I have to remember all of dear child’s paraphernalia.

During the last few days we have not had time to study or play much with dear child. We have noticed that he’s starting to show signs of sitting up and teething. Today on the wanders around the hospital it was nice to see dear child clutching to the cover of the pram with a very serious look upon his face.

I’m not left with the horrid feeling that the cold has been passed onto me and I’m going to be passing it back to the dear wife. I don’t know how to keep it from her, for the past week I’ve been taking extra special care washing my hands, ensuring I don’t contaminate anything. If her bloods don’t get back to normal though any source of contamination will be a huge problem.

Whilst dear wife was eating an orange, dear child appears to mimmick her hand and mouth movements. It’s very interesting to watch.

To make life more stressful I decided to have something to eat in the evening and finish the washing up afterwards, just something simple, bread and a prepack chicken and sweetcorn soup from ASDA. These soups need to be zapped in the microwave for three minutes, stirred and zapped again for three minutes. One minute twenty into the first cycle and the soup pops and crackles a little. Gave it a stir at the end and whacked it into the microwave for another three minutes. Before the cycle finished I heard a loud pop. "Can’t be that serious" I think to myself, whilst opening the door. A worse end result cannot be imagined. The soup had toppled over spilling its contents onto the turn table and up the walls. Disaster.