I had a bet on with my Grandad that I couldn't stay out of hospital for 6 months. If I did then he would give me £50 to have a night out with Hubby. At the time I thought that there was no chance of me ever managing 3 months with no inpatient stays let alone 6. But do you know what? I've done it. That's right. Six whole months without a nights sleep in a hospital. It seems too good to be true. This time last year I had been battling line infections that meant I missed the first few days of my holiday to the Isle of Wight. But I think that the alcohol that in inject into my Hickman line every morning when I disconnect from my feed is doing its job of keeping all the nasties out that cause the infections.
The sad thing is that my Grandad isn't with us any longer to celebrate with me. I know how chuffed he would have been at me keeping well and off the wards.
So Grandad, you owe me £50. And when my time comes to pass through the pearly gates, watch out! I'm coming to collect it.
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