One woman went to mow..

Frances and I went to The Abbey School (for girls), Reading. There we were taught that the world was our oyster and every job opportunity open to us. There was no feminist agenda; it was never specifically mentioned that women were equal to men. They just assumed that was obvious - and if mowing the lawn was not on the curriculum, it was more because it wasn't part of the Oxbridge selection process, than because it was a 'blue' job. Frances went off to be a Doctor and I sat in the boardroom without a bra burned or a glass ceiling broken.

So this afternoon, I set out to mow the lawn. (I should point out that I have done this, before but never with our new mower). My first mistake was to waste time looking for the long lead. This entailed going into Quent's workshop - a stressful experience for anyone who even knows what OCD means, let alone suffers from the condition. (Thankfully, I don't).  Anyway it was a waste of time because it's a petrol mower and I should have known that before I stood there looking for the plug.  How 'senior' do you have to be to have a 'moment'?

The second irritation was that it wouldn't start. I thought I was doing the right thing, but had to go and get Quent down from his afternoon nap to see where I was going wrong. Once he was standing next to the machine, it started for me first time. I hadn't realised mowers counted as 'technology'.

The mower has two settings; manual and sense of humour (known in the manual as 'self drive'). Manual was a little heavy, but as soon as I put it into GSOH drive, it shot off, with me trailing behind, pretending to be fit. The way it accelerated into the flowerbeds at the end of the run was particularly 'amusing'.

I was rather proud I remembered to raise the blades to level 5 before going up the steps to the second lawn. Not quite so proud that I'd done half the new task before remembering to drop them back to level 1, but hey, there's more to this than meets the eye.

Eventually, I spotted a little picture of a tortoise next to a lever and hey presto, found my niche. I glided sedately along the last strip of grass, at peace with the world. I couldn't find the teapot shaped icon anywhere on the mower, but used the initiative I learned at The Abbey and went to put the kettle on.

(For those of you checking in for an update on Quent's medical condition, he's doing very well. He went to Scouts on Thursday and we're out to dinner tonight. His scars are healing nicely and he's remembering to take his tablets pretty much on time. He doesn't have to mow the lawn for six weeks. What's not to like?)

Quent's stockings

Yesterday, Quent had a shower and came downstairs barefoot. I suggested maybe he should be wearing the pressure stockings, as the nurses had given us several pairs. He said he thought he was probably more active than most patients and would be fine. Fortunately his big sister was here and kindly but firmly told him to put them on. (Blood clots are the biggest risk after an adrenalectomy and he's having to inject himself daily to thin the blood). It was less than four days after the op, after all.

The hospital rang in the evening to see how things were going. Quentin was able to report that everything seemed fine. In true wifely fashion I prompted him from the background to ask about the stockings. Next thing I heard was "Four weeeeks?"

Other than that, he's been pretty well behaved and is making a great recovery. He did a bit of weeding today, but Oakley soon came to the rescue (with a chess board). We have been for a short walk and Quent seemed fine. He's having a nap each afternoon, but otherwise seems to be bouncing around as usual. He really hasn't got the hang of 'milking it'. I think I made more fuss when I had a virus a few weeks ago.

Pottering

Our conversation on the way home:

H: "So how are we going to fill the next 6 weeks. Watching lots of films? Play some games with Oakley over half term? Have people round for coffee and tea? Maybe get a bit of paperwork out of the way? What would you like to do, darling?"

Q: "Yes, and maybe a bit of pottering."

H: "What do you mean by pottering?"

Q: "Just a bit of light electrical work, maybe?"

The surgeon may find it "mildly terrifying" being Quent's Doctor, but it's nothing compared to being his wife.

Within an hour of being home, we'd lost him. Eventually Oakley found him in the loft, resetting the Minecraft server.

Having said that, he's sleeping a lot at the moment. The real test (battle of wills!) will be in a couple of weeks when he's adamant he's feeling better and I'm adamant he still needs to rest. Wish me luck!

Home is where the heart is...

We're home! We got back just in time to tuck Quent into bed, before collecting Oakley from school. Since then, Oakley hasn't left Quent's side and it's been lovely to see them reading, watching TV, eating and laughing together.

The garden is looking rather "shaggy", but it's still great to be back.

  

 We're not going camping. It's a shame because the site looks absolutely fantastic (The Firepit in Norfolk), but we'll go some other time; and spend this weekend having restful family time at home instead.

Gotta love Apple

Isn't "modern technology" amazing? On Wednesday afternoon, we used Facetime to chat to Oakley. He was expecting me. When he saw Quent smiling back from the hospital garden, he said "Oh, Dad. Thank you SO much."  I felt Oakley's spontaneous gasps of gratitude were really owed to the developers at Apple, rather than the people holding the tablet. His relief at seeing Quent looking so well was almost tangible. Priceless.

They chatted on for ages. At one point Oakley asked "Is that a dress you're wearing, Dad?"  Quent told him that in fact he'd had a sex change and he'd be wearing a lot more dresses in the future. Oakley totally ignored this comment and moved the conversation back to chat about Lego Minifigures.

Coming out..

"We're out and proud", as the saying goes. Less than 48 hours in hospital seems unbelievably short, but we're not complaining.

After several hours' waiting for the pharmacy (why does that always happen?), we finally left hospital at 4.30pm and got to Quent's sister, Lorna's house in Lichfield early evening.

Quent's very tired, but delighted to be out.

I'm very disappointed to have missed Jenny and Tim's wedding party today (congratulations, Mr & Mrs Hailstone!), but driving Quent home from hospital is nearly as exciting.

Told you so...

... this was Quent shortly after we arrived on the ward this afternoon.

Drain out, catheter out, morphine gone, drip gone; smile restored!

We saw Miss Warburton today. She told us a little more about the operation and the tumour, which came out whole (thank goodness) - a "nice little specimen" was how she described it.

We asked questions about what Quent could do and when. She said she admired his attitude but found it "mildly terrifying" being his Doctor.

She is not at all keen on him cycling down black runs in 6 weeks' time - and also doesn't think it's a great idea to go camping this weekend. It seems to be the extra long drive to a fairly remote location she's not keen on (rather than the camping itself) which is a shame, because it's hard to do anything about the location of Norfolk, especially with only 3 days to go.

We'll have to think hard about what to do.  Campers, I will email tomorrow.

Lovely, lovely, lovely

I've been sitting in the garden of our lovely friends, reading the magazine given by another lovely friend and soaking up all the goodwill messages from so many lovely friends & family members. My lovely sister and sister-in-law came to hold my hand yesterday and my lovely brother-in-law is dashing off to collect Quent's table. Oakley is having a lovely time with his lovely friends, courtesy of our lovely friends, who have welcomed him with open arms.

While I can't wait to see Quentin, I am happy he is being looked after by the lovely Doctors and nurses of the wonderful NHS.

We are so fortunate to be surrounded by such wonderful people. Every cloud...

On the NHS catwalk...

Here's a picture of Quent just before he went to theatre, in his new outfit.. paper pants hidden from view. Slippers, model's own.

He didn't look quite so chirpy last night, but I'm guessing that by visiting time today, that huge smile will be back on his face.

A good night

What's that saying? There are two sure things in life; taxes and nurses.

Quent has been looked after overnight by a MALE nurse. I'm sure that wasn't part of the plan!

He has had a comfortable night, with a couple of minor post-op complications, but nothing to worry about. He is described as 'settled' - unlike the weather.

Visiting time isn't until 2pm. I'll update later or tomorrow, but meanwhile, please assume no news is good news!

Success!

The operation went well! A couple of tricky bits, but he's through it. It was done laparoscopically, so we still hope to camp this weekend! That said, Quent was very, very groggy when he came back to the ward and said he felt 'battered'.

"Where does it hurt?" "Everywhere".

But that's all normal. Hopefully he'll have a good night and be well on the woad to recovery tomorrow.

Frances (my sister) and Lorna (Quent's sister) held my hand and made the afternoon as enjoyable as an afternoon can be, while someone cuts your husband up!

Lorna has also solved Quent's main concern this morning. She has offered to go to Worksop to collect a table he bought on eBay. He was determined that it WAS a good idea to divert on the way home and would not listen to my protestations about pain and wounds and rushing back to our little boy. Thanks, Lorna.

The first 24 hours are always critical so I will feel better tomorrow night, but I still feel pretty good, drinking my wine chez Anita.

Early start

We are happily settled at our favourite pre-op haunt ... Chez Anita, which is now chez Anita, Mark & Meg the dog. We've been out to dinner, had a good natter and are off to bed, with the alarm set for 5.30am, ready for pre op drinks ... Carbohydrate mix, not G&T. It's part of the accelerated recovery plan, which sounds good to us, as we are still hoping to go camping next weekend.

The operation isn't until tomorrow afternoon. Please send the full force of your prayers and positive vibes to Wythenshawe from 1.30pm onwards. I will post as soon as I get the chance but don't expect news before early evening at the earliest.

Dress rehearsal

We're both wondering how we're going to remember the tablet regime. We don't really eat or live to a regular timetable and we both score highly on forgetfulness.

So this week, I've bought some of those pill packs and filled them with various vitamins as a dress rehearsal. We have one set each for companionship and to double our chances of someone remembering! (I should really get a set for Oakley as that would be our best chance.)  As arthritis runs in my family, I've been meaning to take preventative action for ages. Now I have a good reason to make it happen.

So far, Quent is doing pretty well and I'm on a massive fail. Must try harder. We have looked into pill reminder apps and there are a plethora in the app store, so we must get that up and running too. Quent's always happier if there's a gadget involved!

Our main job once out of hospital, will be getting into a tablet rhythm. This may mean life has to slow down a little and be more regimented, at least until we get into the swing of things.

 

For 'day' read tablet!

Operation; Tues 20th May 2014

Miss Warburton has confirmed that the operation is on Tuesday 20th. Over 2 months since they found the tumour. Patience never being my strong point, I'm finding the waiting hard - but not as hard as poor little Oakley who is really preoccupied by it all.  We have a pre-op assessment on Monday (12th May) - treadmills and the like, I think.

It's good to have a date at last, even though it's not the one we wanted. (How naive I was to think it would be done in April!) In fact it's extra rotten as it means we'll have to miss the gorgeous Jenny Haley marry the lovely Tim Hailstone, on Thursday 22nd May...We'll be raising a saline drip to you both!

But as long as the operation is successful, the wait will be worthwhile. Roll on the end of May.

Delayed operation

The hospital has confirmed Quentin's operation is definitely not next week. We are still waiting for a date - it seems even 13th May is not yet confirmed. Will keep you posted.