First things first – Julia is still not well. A few of the dissolving stitches have now come out, but they should have done that weeks ago. The car continues to pull, though it is now dry. She has a bit of trouble breathing. However, we are hoping that the visit to the outpatient’s clinic early next week will give her some answers and a definite course of action.
Meanwhile, she had another visit to A&E on Sunday night (from 6pm to 6pm), but this time travelled in style as we were conveyed by ambulance.
This time, though, it wasn’t her who was ill, it was me.
Basically, as she pointed out, she married an idiot. And I can’t dispute that. I started with a bit of a fever on Friday and Saturday, fighting it off with Paracetamol and sleep. It seemed to work, but on Sunday it came back with a vengeance. Eventually, after being told to go to A&E by someone Julia rang on a helpline, I refused and went to bed. When she woke me again, I was incoherent and couldn’t actually stand. We knew what it was, because I’ve had it before. I’ve also been told off by the doctor before. You can’t fight off sepsis with cold cures.
This time it really did a job on me and though we caught it quickly, I should have caught it a lot quicker. If I had, I might not have had to spend four nights in hospital.
I will tell you about it later. I’ve been at the computer for an hour and am now tired and need to go to sleep. Yes, I’m that weak. On Monday I couldn’t lift a puzzle magazine. On Tuesday I couldn’t finish a puzzle. On Wednesday they started making more sense and I was getting quite good. By Thursday I was bored of puzzle mags but still lacked the concentration to read a book. I actually ordered groceries online using my phone, but could only manage to do about a third of it before breaking off for a nap.
After returning home I have chatted, dozed, watched TV, eaten cheese on toast and tried catching up on my correspondence. Now, defeated again, I am off to bed.
More stories tomorrow.




