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Do you want the good news? Or the bad?

I've seen my consultant. And I have good news! Dr2 was reviewing my obs- do you know they do all those electronically now? No, I'm not talking about the blood pressure machine and electric thermometer. They have what looks like an iPhone and they put all the details into that. I have to admit that the first night I was in one of the healthcare workers was doing my obs but then got their phone out of their pocket and started tapping away. I couldn't believe it. I would have expected it from a young 'un but this lady must have been in her 50's. But then as the days continued I noticed that they were all doing it. The bloody cheek of it! And then it came to me- they were entering all the details into it. That explained the lack of notes at the end of the bed (which Hubby was upset about as he used to like to sit and read them and pretend he was a doctor and could understand them!) 

Anyway, I've gone off at a tangent. Whilst talking, Dr2 asked what the regime was for a line infection in St Marks. He was surprised to hear it was only 7 days of antibiotics. Earlier in the week I had previously spoken to one of his team and they were really shocked that St Marks didn't do another reculture (to check that the infection had gone) before starting to use the line again. I think that given this information and the fact that I was so upset at having to be in for over 2 weeks Dr2 has decided to reduce the antibiotics to 10 days. Yay!! I'm pretty sure that the fact that I was up, showered and looking a bit more human must have also helped him to make that decision. So on Friday the antibiotics will finish and I will then have more blood taken from the line either on Saturday of Sunday to see whether there are any bugs left. If the infection has gone- please infection please go, I want to go home so please, please go- then they will use the Hickman line and if everything's ok I will be discharged. Whoop Whoop!!

If the infection hasn't gone it will mean the line will need to be pulled out, more antibiotics and a new line going in only once the infection has gone completely. Of course it's all completely sensible but that could mean up to a month in hospital altogether. I know that I won't be able to cope with that so fingers crossed it's not the case. I'm pretty hopeful because the infection was caught early. If I had used the line causing the infection to circulate around my body, having the rigors and hallucinating (like the last line infection I had) then I would be planning childcare for another 2 weeks. But as it is, I'm not. 🙏

But just as I received this piece of good news I had a phone call from the estate agent. And she did not have good news. The house that we had been hoping to buy had vanished from Right Move and I had left a message asking her to call me. We were just about to get the survey done so couldn't understand what had happened. Unless they had taken it off because it was under offer? I hoped so but wanted the estate agent to explain to reassure me. At first she skirted round the issue saying that it was temporarily off the market, that the vendor had some personal stuff to deal with etc etc. Well I went a bit bonkers asking her to explain. That I shouldn't have had to call her, she should of call me, notified me of any changes, that this was not acceptable. And then she told me, almost in a whisper that the chap selling the house had died. He wasn't old, I reckon early 40's, and it was unexpected so his wife is understandably distraught and doesn't know what to do with the house. 

Bloody hell. I was stunned and could barely finish the phone call. As I hung up I went through a mixture of emotions: feeling sad and empathetic for his widow and children then realising that we had just lost the house we wanted to buy and feeling like I had been punched in the stomach. And then feeling guilty for feeling upset when clearly his family had more right than me to be upset because I had only lost something in my imagination and they had lost something very real. 

But trust kids to say it how it is. When they asked me how he had died I told them that I didn't know. "Well didn't you ask?" Big Fella enquired. Erm. No I didn't funnily enough son! Big Girl then said "well he did have a big motorbike and we all know how dangerous they are" followed by Big Fella's pearls of wisdom "He worked in security. He was probably stabbed". So there you go. Out of the mouths of babes and all that. 

NB x

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