Hospital and unhappy

If this were a film, the next scene would start with "Just a few hours later" typed over the top... and the running time would be long, so get yourself a cuppa. When I typed "I don't have much to report", it really wasn't a request for an adventure.

Quent was restless on Thursday night / Friday morning, but that's pretty normal less than a week after leaving Christie's. At around 4am he came back to bed and I was aware of him breathing very strangely next to me. He had sharp pains down his right side and said he thought he must have bruised his ribs. Given he's hardly been out of either his own or a hospital bed in the last few weeks and he was finding it hard to breathe, I thought that was unlikely.

He wouldn't let me call anyone, but instead had a cup of tea and two paracetamol. We agreed to see what happened once the paracetamol kicked in and take it from there. He promptly fell asleep and slept soundly - without moving - for the rest of the night. I didn't. Most of the time I lay in bed worrying. But my imagination wasn't the only thing running away with me. Several times I jogged round the bed to check Quent's breathing (sticking my finger under his nose as if he were a new born). It's amazing how still and silent people can be in the middle of the night.

In the morning, he said he felt bruised but more comfortable and decided paracetamol was the answer. My offers to email Prof or Dr Savage were flatly refused. We set off to Highgate to have lunch with my uncle, aunt and cousin.

I was so focused on the delicious lunch, it took me several courses to realise that Quent was very quiet. He admitted he was in some pain, took more painkillers and went to lie down. I had had enough of being obedient. I left a telephone message for Dr Savage and emailed both him and Prof once we got home.

Dr Savage kindly rang us at 6pm on Friday night. He asked Quent a few questions and told Quent to come up to the hospital to investigate a possible blood clot. It would probably involve another scan, thinning his blood an an overnight stay.

Quent was very grumpy as we dropped him off. He didn't want to go back into hospital and I didn't blame him. He wouldn't let us wait with him, so I came home and worried there instead. At least you can worry with wine and chocolate when you're at home. I spoke to the Prof, who had also been trying to get hold of us. He confirmed that he too was concerned about a blood clot.
I called the hospital at 10.15pm and they told me his ECG and X-ray were clear but he'd just fainted. This did not reassure me at all. I was straight back on the phone to my sister (who'd had several calls by now!) . She did reassure me. Apparently, if the ECG is clear, it's not a large clot. She warned me he may not get a scan that night.

This episode will end at the point that Quent rang me to say Dr Savage had just been back into the hospital to see him - 10.30pm. If you ever overhear a "bloody Doctors" conversation, please set them straight. Our Doctors are so kind and dedicated - and kindness means a huge amount when one of you is genuinely sick and the other is worried sick.