Author Topic: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream  (Read 120828 times)

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Offline ArtyMar

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #310 on: January 09, 2016, 18:58:48 PM »
Wow! Lucky you, Sadler! On the way over from Oz to UK many moons ago, our ship stopped over in Wellington for 3 days but that's all I've seen of NZ. You'll have to post photos.



Offline ArtyMar

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #311 on: January 14, 2016, 11:07:20 AM »
December 2010  London

BLOG 51: home again

The ribbons, bunting, balloons and decorations are out to welcome OH.  He is wheeled down the path to the front door from the rehab ambulance (from now on, he’ll be transported in my own car – but for the moment, they want to make sure he arrives home in one piece!).  I spot the lace curtain move in the house of one of our neighbours.

He’s smiling and croaks: “it’s nice to be home.” We, Older Son, Younger Son and I, escort him to his new ‘bedroom’ (rear lounge) and he looks mildly surprised.

“Do you want a tour of the house?” I joke. I’m thinking of the total clear-out/spring clean/re-order of his study undertaken by Daughter and I. What will be his reaction? He’s always insisted on no interference in his special domain i.e. leave it alone. To him: a personal space, to me: total chaos and mess: (he maintains ‘I know where everything is – don’t touch a thing!’ I maintain, he doesn’t know where things are: when he can’t find something, he buys another! I want to make it easy for him to find things.)

He looks puzzled. “No.  I’m tired. Have a rest.”  He glances toward his downstairs bed – no comment about its new location. He just wants to use it. He’s still very weak and only taking small steps with the aid of the walker. We walk very slowly toward the bed. On the other side of the rear lounge wall is his study, so I can’t resist steering him past the bed toward the door of the study. I’m dying to see his reaction to our splendid reorganization. As we pass the bed, a look of mild annoyance crosses his face and he tries to turn back: “Lie down.” he murmurs.

“Yes” I say, “in just a minute.“ We approach the study door and I open it. “Your new study!” I cry, keeping a tight hold on the walker frame – he might fall over in shock.

He peeps inside.

. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday

Offline Bluwise

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #312 on: January 14, 2016, 17:32:14 PM »
aaarrrrgghhhh, you can't stop there!!!!!!!!   :o

Offline echogirl1

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #313 on: January 14, 2016, 17:35:32 PM »
I hope he hates it, which would show a return of his old spirit!!  I'm well into this!

Offline gillian handbury

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #314 on: January 15, 2016, 12:13:56 PM »
Hope you've saved it all and a map of where each bit belongs... You may have to put it back.... I'll come & help!! Roll on next Thursday...

Offline ArtyMar

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #315 on: January 21, 2016, 10:21:36 AM »
Late December 2010  London

BLOG 52: home again


OH looks around at the newly tidied and re-organised study. The random collection of books and knick-knacks previously cluttering the shelves, have been replaced with plastic boxes, neatly labeled with their contents. The floor is clean and cleared of piles of old magazines and catalogues. The desk is clear with regularly used items placed within easy reach.

We wait with bated breath.

“Yes” he murmurs, “Now I want to lie down.” And turns slowly back toward his bed.

Sons are close behind – they know of the efforts of Daughter and me to re-organise his study, and my concerns as to his reactions. We are stunned. Is this my OH?

Of course, I was hoping he’d be delighted to see his brand new, spick and span study – to finally realise what I’ve been on about over the years. Sons are smiling, barely able to conceal their mirth. I can’t believe it.  He hasn’t even noticed! Maybe when he’s adjusted to being back home and recovered a bit more, he’ll at least notice some of the changes and hopefully be very glad of them (or be furious! – either way, it would be more like the OH of old). Anyway, I tell those smirking sons, I’m proud of what we’ve done: transformed chaos into such a nice, ordered little office. . . but also, I admit privately to myself, quite relieved that he hasn’t reacted badly. On further reflection, I'm not even sure of this -  maybe any reaction, positive or negative, would have been better . . .

“How about a cup of tea?” I venture, “lovely home-made tea!” But it’s too late; he’s already lying down on the bed and his eyes are closed. We three sit down for a cuppa and gaze at OH who is already asleep on his downstairs bed. Older Son says, “at least you won’t be having to go into the hospital everyday, Mum!”

Now that he’s home and out of the hospital/rehab environment, I can see more clearly that there is a long way to go before I have the old OH back. Even so, I reassure myself, he’s come a mighty distance from being in Intensive Care, when we were concerned that he might never recover. The important thing, I tell myself, is to temper my expectations. I feel sure he’ll recover in his own good time. I remember one of the doctors telling me that they can’t tell whether the use of prolonged multiple anaesthetics will have had an adverse effect on the brain until at least six months afterwards. Mobility and other aspects will surely improve with physiotherapy, effort and exercise. I must be patient.

Another niggling concern is his voice – that whispery hoarse voice doesn’t sound at all like OH. It not only sounds like a very old man, but a very old man with laryngitis! My OH has always had a clear, strong speaking voice and, for that matter, a good singing voice (unlike me). This continuing hoarseness is making me even more sure that somehow his vocal chords have been damaged by the breathing apparatus given during his time in the ITU. When I have asked about this at the hospital, the doctors pooh-poohed the idea that any damage could have been done. I’m not so sure. After all, it’s now nearly three months since the operation. 

Sons agree: as soon as possible I should make an appointment for OH to be seen by a specialist in ENT to have his throat examined. No sooner home, than I’m thinking of returning to the hospital. I’m so sick of hospitals. But. . .  bearing in mind that gaining an appointment might take a while, I may as well get started. I reach for the phone.  Here we go again -


. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday

………….

Offline ArtyMar

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #316 on: January 28, 2016, 10:52:11 AM »
January 2011  London

BLOG 53: Settling in

Xmas comes and goes – very quietly, just family.  I couldn’t have coped with more.

OH hasn’t been upstairs since coming home and has expressed no desire to do so. He has a loud-ringing bell by his bedside downstairs so that he can call me without straining his whispery voice. He may not be getting much exercise but I sure am, leaping about the house at the call of the bell. But sons are right: not having my day taken up with going to the hospital or the rehab place is a boon and the days seem longer.

It’s a bit like having a baby again (sorry, OH!) – listening out for him or the bell.  Admittedly, I don’t change nappies. Instead, I change stoma bags but I’m getting to be quite expert. Unfortunately, because of the large incisional hernia causing a bulging stomach, even with time, OH will not be able to do this for himself, as he can’t see past the bulge. This is a shame, to put it mildly. I must admit, on more than one occasion in the beginning, when the changing was difficult, I was on the phone to the Stoma Nurse (yes, there are such nurses!) at the hospital, wailing “what am I doing wrong? The b….y bag keeps coming off!” Now, though – a piece of cake!

We’re getting into a routine, OH and me – a quieter routine than before the op, when I was working.  I plan to return to work part-time, two days per week, and luckily this is fine with my college. I’m really looking forward to seeing students and colleagues again (never been one to stay at home for too long).  Neighbours have been great; OH won’t be alone for very long as they’ll look in, plus the home carer from Social Services for an hour or so each day, plus Younger Son, who will adjust his hours and be home by 3 p.m. OH will also wear an alarm around his neck, directly connected to Social Services in case of a real emergency.

College is only a short drive away so I should be back by 5.30 p.m. OH has now reached the stage of getting up when he wants a cup of tea or a snack and fixing it for himself. The rehab unit has provided him with a walker that incorporates a tray on top with grooves for a cup and plate so food or drink won’t spill when he needs to move from kettle to table. It helps to make him more independent.

His voice hasn’t improved, though; it’s still thin and hoarse. We’ll find out more when we go to an appointment at the hospital in two weeks time. I’m convinced that his vocal chords were damaged when he was in the ITU – what else? Before his op, he spoke normally. And yet the doctors claim it cannot be so. Well, we’ll find out soon.


. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday

Offline Bluwise

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #317 on: January 28, 2016, 19:27:54 PM »
That's real progress Arty.  I can imagine your relief that he can actually make a drink and snack for himself at this point. 

Offline ArtyMar

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #318 on: February 04, 2016, 09:47:14 AM »
January 2011  London

BLOG 54 Ho! Ho! Ha! Hum!

We’re in the ENT department, back at the hospital. OH has swallowed a camera. Now that really would damage his voice! However, the camera he’s swallowed is tiny and at the end of a kind of wire. It’s all attached to a monitor so we can see inside his throat as he speaks. I’ve never seen inside someone’s throat before and the view of the vocal chords is not what I expected (after the doctor has explained what is being shown on the monitor). For a start, I think I somehow imagined ‘vocal chords’ as being just that – like a row of strings similar to what you might see on a violin or guitar – and when one speaks, I expected that these chords would go up and down. Not at all! The throat, as one would expect, is like a tunnel but surrounding it are sort of ‘flanges’ : bits of skin-like folds that move in and out when one speaks (they are the ‘vocal chords’), they narrow or widen the throat canal. It’s fascinating to watch the screen and relate it to the sounds being uttered by OH.

The screen shows that there is no damage whatsoever to these moving skin-folds, aka ‘vocal chords’ (sorry, doctors, for my suspicions of a cover-up of negligence)! What it does show, however, is that the throat canal is unusually constricted, caused by a kind of tension of the chords which appear to be permanently ‘on guard’. It is explained to us that OH (at least his vocal chords) are in a state of stress, so much so, that they can’t relax. This is what’s causing the hoarseness and whispery voice. It’s interesting to see how the body has reacted to the massive onslaught of the operation. It’s not just the parts that were cut, stitched and repaired – other parts that were theoretically unhurt, have reacted in a kind of protest.  What can be done? You can’t just tell someone “It’s all ok now, the operation is over. You can relax those vocal chords now!”.

The answer is speech therapy. There are certain sounds that ‘open’ the chords i.e. the throat canal, and others that push them closer, narrowing the canal – this opening and closing affects the sounds made and the quality of the voice. When the doctor tells OH to take a deep breath and say “Ahh” (like the GP examining your throat when you have a throat infection), in effect, he is causing OH to open up his throat by relaxing some of the vocal chords. OH has to practice saying the open vowels starting with a breathy ‘h’. ‘Hho-o. Hhaa. Hhummm.’ He also has to hum, literally saying ‘Hummm’. 

It’s not something that can be cured overnight it seems. OH’s throat has got used to being constricted and it may take several months of speech therapy to get those vocal chords back to their former relaxed state.  More for OH (and me) to accomplish.

Fortunately a speech therapist from the hospital can come to the house – that will save me the difficult task of getting OH to and from the hospital. We make an appointment for her to come the following week. She has a familiar-sounding name that I can’t quite place. In the meantime, OH must practice saying “Ho, ho, ha, hummmm. I smell the blood of an Englishmannnn”. He must say this slowly, deeply and with as much ‘hhh’ as possible.  Another suggested phrase for him is to act an on-the-beat copper and say, “Ho, ho, ho! What have we hhhere?” That should be fun. Beats our usual rather limited conversation since he’s been home!

I add speech therapy to our schedule of daily activities. Now what was that speech therapist’s name? (we didn’t meet her at the clinic – just the doctor and his assistant.) Nikki G . . . where have I heard that name before? I’m sure I don’t know any speech therapists . . .

. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday


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Offline sadler

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Re: ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream
« Reply #319 on: February 04, 2016, 10:00:28 AM »
Add "detective" to your long list of roles, Arty. Very intriguing!   :)  ;)




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