My Uncle Bill died last Sunday, so this week I have been feeling sad and a bit weepy.
On Friday, Neil and I got up really early so that we could get organised and get the train to the funeral. However, Jasmine had other ideas and kicked Neil’s hand as he was disconnecting her. Neil touched the dark blue part of her catheter, which is a big infection risk. We got dressed as quick as we could and squashed onto the rush hour tube with Jasmine in her buggy to get to GOSH.
The infection risk was deemed to be minimal because Neil had clean hands after one of the three minute handwashes. Our nurse took a sample of Jasmine’s peritoneal fluid and gave us two days of dialysate bags containing antibiotics. I put Neil and Jasmine and the boxes of fluid in a black cab home as they could no longer come to the funeral in case Jasmine had to go back into hospital and be put on 48 hours continous dialysis cycling. I then ran up to Euston to get on my train to the north west.
Neil rang me a couple of hours later: We were lucky. Jasmine’s white cell count was 9 and she didn’t need to be hospitalised. I had half-prepared myself to have come back down to London and go straight to GOSH for the weekend. Sometimes those three minute handwashes seem to take forever but Friday showed us why they are so important.
The funeral was lovely. Uncle Bill’s coffin had the Burma Star draped over it as he was a chindit during WWII. And as sad as the occasion was, it was great to see everyone.
Yesterday, I slept all around the place – in bed, the camp bed in the living room, the sofa. I was really grateful not to be in the hospital and Neil thought it was funny that everytime I sat down I fell asleep even though Jasmine was singing and squawking for hours at a time and was only quiet when a) we took her for a walk and b) put her in front of the football.
The antiobiotics have really kicked in and Jasmine is pooing and puking all over the place. Last night I went in to feed her just before our bedtime, this normally takes about 10 minutes. However, with the antiobiotics, she managed to fill her nappy a couple of times and projectile vomit all over herself, me, our bedclothes and the cot. One hour later with fresh sheets and covers and clothes for everyone, we got into bed.
Neil’s hands have given up on him – they are red and cracked and sore. So, I will do all the dialysis instead of us taking turns like we normally do until they heal. He is in charge of Sunday lunch. I have set up the machine ready for this evening and had a bath, so will be able to go to bed at a moment’s notice. Very important, in these sleep-deprived times.
Jasmine is really excited by her one tooth and uses it to bite everything: her catheter, her bib, us. She is off her food but is guzzling her milk and chewing the doidy cup. I will see if I can tempt her with a roast potato when the chef stops playing Grand Theft Auto and serves up my roast quorn dinner!