Junior rigor

Oakley has stepped up his prescription. He had a very restless night last night and at one point woke up, crying out "I need an operation".

This morning the Doctor decided antibiotics would probably do the trick - although she was impressed by his 40.2 degree temperature. He even had a little rigor in the night. As his teeth started chattering and he complained of being cold, I explained that in fact he was so hot his body was reacting. (All medical training, thanks to the Christie). He looked at me as if I was mad. "Mum, I don't do this when I am hot, do I?" he replied. Just like his father, who used to say "Just give me another blanket, will you?"

The weeping wounded

Sorry for the long silence. I have been lost in the garden. I should be working, doing the housework etc, but I argue that none of those jobs will get hit by frost if I leave them for a week or so.

How is Quent? He is very chirpy and loving the house. After a couple of near misses (Can I do a bit of light digging in the garden? Shall I chop those logs? etc), he has settled into a very sensible routine. The hospital told him to get mobile, so he often walks Oakley to school. Otherwise, he is resting and reading his new book, "Old House Handbook". This seems to be a catalogue of the terrible things people find when they start work on old houses. (We aren't planning to start until next Spring, but it's all good research and it keeps him out of harm's way.) I talk to him about the onslaught of ivy and he talks to me about soil pipes and underfloor heating. It's riveting stuff.

Back to Quent's health. My sister, Frances, saw his scar on Saturday (at his request, so he must have been a tiny bit concerned). She said it's not right. Not terrible, but it's still a bit weepy in the middle and it should have healed by now. We are going back to the surgery tomorrow to see the nurse. In fact we are going to the surgery twice tomorrow as Oakley was sent home sick from school today. I am not sure why we are going to the doctor's for Oakley - he has self-prescribed a cocktail of TV, biscuits and constant attention, as well as the odd slurp of Calpol. What more can the professionals add?

We are also waiting for a date from Christie's for Quentin's next scan, which is due at the end of October. Needless to say we are not looking forward to that, but hopefully all will be clear and Quent can have three months without any treatment.

Money's gone to Iceland

Some of you may have heard that Christie's Hospital had money invested in the Icelandic banks.

There is a silver lining to this cloud. I received an email this week from Alison in the fundraising office, assuring us that the monies raised on that gruelling trip round Europe('s bars) are all safe. This is because the money in the Icelandic bank was ringfenced for new developments and ours was ringfenced for Prof's research fund.

Christie's are working tirelessly to get their money back and have been assured that they have a good chance of success. We will keep our fingers crossed.

Checking into the Priory

Sorry for the long delay in posting. Let me explain…

First things first. Quent’s operation went well on Friday. Thankyou for your kind thoughts and concerned texts wondering why I have not updated the blog. He started his “get out quick” campaign as soon as he arrived at Charing Cross. Mr Christmas had told us he would be out on Sunday but at 9.50am on Saturday Quent rang to tell me he was ready to come home. We went back to the Doctor’s yesterday to have the dressing changed and the wound is “weepy”, so we need to go back again today. But overall, it’s been a success and we have no further surgery planned.

The operation was exactly seven weeks after the previous one. During that time we had the bathroom redone, we moved house, Oakley started a new school and I finished a big work project. It’s been a busy time.

If this sounds a bit crazy, you will be amused to hear that the new house is called The Priory. Rickmansworth, not Roehampton. The delightful previous owners lived here for 63 years and described it as a magical place. It’s a 16^th Century listed building - full of character, with a beautiful garden, a garage and a workshop. Everything we dreamed of and more. We keep bumping into people we know who enthusiastically tell us they looked at it – and rejected it as far too much work!

We are loving it. Oakley has created two dens in the garden, learned to climb trees and turned the window seats into pirate ships, with the curtains as sails and our visitors as crew. I potter about in the garden and poor Quent is itching to do all sorts of things if only the Doctors (and his wife) would let him.

We have to start with the basics. Internet access being an obvious one. I think we'd happily swap the (vintage) central heating for broadband, the latter being far more vital to basic survival, in our view.

We will doubtless give you all the gory details of the "project" as it develops. After IL-2, a spot of rewiring and replumbing will be childsplay. (You can quote me on that in a few months' time, when I may well be tempted to leave one Priory to stay at the other!)


(The house)


(The front door)


(The garden & the Church next door)