I didn’t sleep particularly well because I knew we had to be up good and early because T was due back in the Dermatology Dept at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford. We would have to leave home at 07.15 at the latest. Pen was driving down from Devon the same morning and Ali would drive our little expedition there.
I managed to give H a quick wander in the dark and she performed dutifully whilst on the lead.
Everyone was on time and T was quite compliant. The traffic in Oxford was stacked up in various places which caused delays but we were there on time, and even had to wait a little while.
The waiting area was fairly empty apart from another lady of a certain age, with whom we conversed in depth, about the merits of a childhood TV programme. ‘Torchy, the Battery Boy’ 1959-1961. I blame Penny as she mentioned the word ‘torch.’
The medical staff baulked at our numbers so Pen and Ali went with T for the initial discussion, and the decision was taken to remove the malignant growth in his neck before it grew to be size of an orange. Ali would stay with T.
There had been family and other concerns re T’s ability to cooperate and be still under a local anaesthetic. But reports indicated he had been amazing. They gave him very strong anaesthetic locally and shielded what they were doing from his eyes.
The procedure took quite a while, an hour or so whilst Pen and I waited. Ali and T reappeared, T sporting a massive dressing covering a huge scar from chin to chest. He had to keep the dressing on for 48 hours. It was -round 10.00 am now. T had removed the dressing by 14.30. And a second replacement by 12 hours later. And the third lasted about half an hour…
He was incredibly obedient and brave, cracking jokes to amuse everyone. Pen made her own joke : “He has everyone in stitches, but they will have him in stitches soon. “
There was nothing urgent to be done about the swelling on the back of his head except keep an eye on it. It might be a candidate for a dose of palliative radiotherapy like the one he had in September.
We made it back to the car and were all desperate for hot drinks and/or food. So we stopped at The Snug ( aka lama farm) in Dorchester. Where we were fed to perfection. Pen had a huge plateful of full English brekkie. I had very good halloumi and avocado on sourdough toast. T chomped his way through a bacon and brioche burger.
Life returned to our shocked limbs. The start to the day had been early.
Pen had had a long drive from Devon. Ali had spent most of yesterday evening in another hospital – in Reading – Royal Berks where George was being treated for a split after a hockey ball narrowly missed his eye. They just managed to avoid using stitches which might have compromised his good looks!
T got the stitch treatment. I will spare you what they removed which was already the size of a walnut or plum.
By the time we left the Snug, the dressing was already working loose, Pen and I picked up our cars, and Heidi, from Moulsford and we returned to the Illis where Ali stuck the dressing back down with more tape. And H cavorted with Minnie in the sunshine.
It was a beautiful day.
After another hot drink, Pen departed for Devon and and I came home via Cholsey pharmacy and some micropore tape.
I had a feeling we were not done with redressing that wound. And his bristly heard did not help.
I put him to bed and later added a plateful of finger food. He has eaten well today. Anything and everything! He arose later to join me watching some TV. Well, he watched and I fell asleep. And then we both went to bed.
He had awoken by 01.30 and was in an exceptionally bad mood , directing his ill temper at me and removing the second dressing. I suspected the third would be gone by morning, and i was not wrong. The doctors had acknowledged we had a ‘dressing challenge’ on our hands.
The third dressing was removed before I had got back into bed. The ill temper became more spicy and brick bats started. That 48 hours of dressed wound is reduced to around 18.
Tomorrow is busy.
Thought for the Day
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