So another week has rolled by with not much happening. There does seem to be a downward trend with his aspirates, but chickens… counting… not. One thing that has been achieved is getting the consultant, dietician and ward manager to all sit down and agree a plan with me. Trust me, this is impressive. Principally
Dominic and I are currently languishing in Great Ormond Street after what should have been a relatively straightforward operation to give him a surgical jejunostomy. Unfortunately Dominic doesn't do straightforward and we are now in our fourth week of recovery with no one being able to predict how much longer it might take for him
I've been wondering recently why it is so hard for me to come and fill in this journal now. Life for the most part is happy, I've moved house, it's somewhere far more suitable for us, with lots more space and a lovely border collie puppy (nicknamed Devil Dog) called Chloe. I've been in a relationship
We had to call the family and ask them to come and say their goodbyes. I won’t go into how it felt to be told that or how it feels now to write about it. It’s still too raw. I remember screaming though.