Message Seventy Three

Conversation overheard on the ward.
a phone rings.

Elizabeth- "Helloo, I'm not at home."
Caller-  "Hello Liz, where are you at the moment?"
Elizabeth- "I'm in hospital."
Caller- "Oh, nothing serious I hope."
Elizabeth- "No, nothing serious."
Caller- "Well I hope you get better."
Elizabeth- "I will."
Caller- "Is anyone there with with you?"
Elizabeth- "Yes, Lots of friends are with me.  They can hear you. You are on speaker phone."
Caller- "Hi everyone, have a good evening .  Bye Liz, sleep well."
Elizabeth- "Bye."
Elizabeth's friend-  "Who was that?"
Elizabeth- "Oh, that was my dad."

Today we cruised round Leicester equipped only with a banana board.  Liz had an appointment at the Royal with Ear, Nose and Throat.  We wheeled into a packed Saturday Outpatient's clinic.  Perfectly on time,  Mr Haribaskaran saw Elizabeth and explained how he would put an optic fiber camera down her nose to examine her vocal cords.  With great skill he did this and reassured Liz that her vocal cords are fully intact and undamaged.   This means that with continued speech therapy, Liz should be able to get her singing voice back. 

Liz in the front seat 

Message Seventy Two

Liz has a driving licence but it's probably best that I drive at the moment.  Today she 'banana boarded' into the passenger seat of my car with Rachel, her Physio supervising.  It was a slick move.  We are preparing for Liz's next trip to the Leicester Royal Infirmary on Saturday where she will have her vocal cords examined.

We also traveled down the miles of hospital corridor to visit the Intensive Care Unit and requested an appointment for Elizabeth to be given her Intensive Care diary.  As she pointed out to the Sister, she feels that she was not traumatised by her experiences.  She has been largely conscious from the moment the haemorrhage happened, and has always felt peaceful.  The nurse could see this, but we agreed to their protective approach.  She will get it on Friday with the appropriate counselling.

A Banana and Apple visited at the weekend

Rachel with the banana board.  It's surprisingly green.

Message Seventy One

Elizabeth would like her left ankle to flex.  She feels that 'sensation' is moving down her leg and is about 6 centimeters away from her ankle, so it's on its way.  She would also like to know that her voice can be restored.  It is coming and she suggested that a little ditty she composed is put on the blog so that you can get an idea of how she is doing. (Click on https://soundcloud.com/andrew-starr-725590242/liz-little-patient ) (watch out for the follow on track- it's nothing to do with me - might be an atmospheric Korean song- quite good really.)

Yesterday Margaret was able to see Liz walk with the frame across the gym, and out into the corridor, turn right, and down to the nurses station.

Yesterday Anna and Joe came from Sheffield.  They all went out to the canteen and Liz had her hospital sandwiches.  Later Dave M was able to see the massive progress Liz has made having seen her in Sheffield.  Elaine saw her for the first time.  They stopped in Leicester en-route to the big rugby game at Twickenham.

Today we provided dhokra and Indian curries from 'Bobby's on the Melton Road to celebrate the reunion with Elizabeth's Mizoram team who visited for the day.  They turned up at the ward dressed as an apple and a banana.  The Nurse said, "oh yes, visiting Liz.  Second bay on the left."

A picture of Dhokla?  Well M from the opposite bed is brought it by her family and we are all very jealous.  Our friend Manju also cooks perfect Dhokla, is it's a real hit.

Dhokla- savoury Indian cake

Message Seventy

I have this saying that 'there are no secrets in families, just taboos.'

Elizabeth has probably now stayed on ward 2 longer than anyone else.  She knows pretty much everything that is going on in the ward, and could act as a prompt for staff, if they asked her.  The realisation of this caused a bit of a stir yesterday because it was noted that the strict patient confidentiality rules may have been stretched.  This resulted in them moving Elizabeth away from the nursing station. Elizabeth felt she was being pushed away and excluded when she has appreciated their company over these many days. It all felt too much and she was overwhelmed with sorrow.  Her therapies could see this and the nurses also felt bad.  Again we were reminded of how challenging it is to be cooped up in a hospital ward with next to no privacy, let alone experiencing significant disabilities.

Elizabeth enjoyed the weekend with her Uncle Peter and Grandma calling in late on Sunday evening after a train mix up delayed them by two hours.  We all ate late night cake, a gift from Helen.

Today Kate visited with a big bag of lychee to aid the celebration of Chinese New Year.  (We all pigged out.)

Happy New Year everyone.

Message Sixty Nine

The joys of communal living.  One of the people in Liz's ward became very unwell and was moved out to the Royal.  When she came back onto Liz's bay very late in the night, she rang her husband on speaker phone saying "I'm not sure where they have brought me.  I seem to be in a basement." It's not just students that wake everyone up when they come rolling in late from a party.

Yesterday I missed the action when D walked out.  He walked, unaided, with everyone cheering and clapping.  He said later to Margaret that he would have liked to have savoured the moment, and said farewell as he left, but he was concentrating so hard on not falling over that this all passed him by.  D was on 132 days, the same as Liz.  Margaret thought it would be nice to meet up again on day 365 for a celebration.

Today Elise and Adam visited from Liz's student house in Sheffield.  We had a pie (made by me), in the hospital restaurant.  The staff looked on amazed at our cheek, eating our own food, but didn't say a word.

Emma, Ruth and Granny are visiting this evening.  Liz continues to be up beat, though it has been tough realising that she cannot say she will be strong enough to share a house next year with her friends.  The options are still being discussed.  Liz is being remarkably patient noting that she will make friends wherever she is.

In the hospital restaurant

Adam, Elizabeth and Elise

Message Sixty Eight

Our Scottish readers would have noted that I neglected to say that last Friday was Burns' Night.  This featured in the Speech Therapy Communications Group quiz. Elizabeth said, not surprisingly, it came to her to explain what Burns' Night is, and indeed who Robbie Burns  was, and what he wrote.  An English degree comes in handy at all times.

Elizabeth continues to make steady progress.  She is doing her transfers quickly, and it's a relief to be able to get about the ward in her wheelchair.  Liz continues to be very encouraged by her visitors, who come even when not feeling great themselves, or making round trips from Sheffield.

We have been discussing the options for next year, with Sheffield University explaining what disabled accommodation they have.  We figure that it is best to make plans for the most difficult out-come in September 2019.

Our discussions have continued about what all this brain hemorrhage and recovery might be all about.  Is it just a bad thing?  Elizabeth says whatever it is, it is an experience, and she sees that along with the other 15 people in her ward, she is learning a lot about what is important in life.  For her she is also learning about trusting in God.   I said "so you'd say it's as sensible to say 'heal me instantly God from this hemorrhage' as it might be to say 'let me have my degree now', without doing the concomitant work."  She said- "yes, something like that."

Message Sixty Seven

Liz felt that I left things hanging a bit with the talk of botox.  She has had the treatment, but it takes effect over seven days or so.  Today Liz tried out the treadmill in the gym.  She was first strapped into a harness to ensure that she could not fall.  It reminded her of being in a baby bouncer.  Then she was able to walk with the machine holding her weight.  Her physio had to cover over the heart monitor after Liz cottoned on that she might be in a video game with a limited number of lives.  "look I am on my last life- dangerous."  Joanna pointed out that we are all on our last life.

We are affected by the lives of the other people around Elizabeth.  One fellow patient will soon be going home and we pray that he will be able to walk out when he leaves.  He still has a lot of neurological pain, and Liz is aware it feels as if he still has a long way to go.  We have been discussing what the point of all this brain haemorrhage stuff is.  Liz said that whatever it is for, she is okay with it. She is willing to discover.

Today Elizabeth was visited by a therapy dog.  She said that it was a good dog.  It doesn't mind having a stroke.

Jo had a day away with her friend at Loughborough University this week which she really enjoyed.  She is working tomorrow in our local Deli.