It is a week since I made an entry in this blog. It has been a fairly busy time. Both mornings in the charity shop there were few staff members. I have not phoned the dentist but I did make a hair appointment with the agreeable looking blonde woman in the downstairs hair salon. We shopped in Havant again and on Good Friday morning we walked with our WFH group. It was good to see the bluebells and wild garlic on the other side of the A272. The weather was pleasant although there was a cold edge to the wind.
I miss my daughter so much at Easter. Three years ago she stayed with us for the Easter weekend because she was so ill. We went to her flat on Maundy Thursday and called the paramedics; Katy was in bed and could not eat or easily walk. On the following Tuesday we took her to her doctor who telephoned the Queen Alexandra hospital and arranged for her to be admitted. She did not want to go; she burst into tears and cried that she hated going to hospital. We took her to medical assessment and they put her on oxygen straight away. The following day she was transferred to the respiratory ward where she stayed for three weeks. At one point it was feared that she had lymphoma. She came to stay with us for the weekend after she was discharged from hospital. Fortunately the lymphoma tests came back negative; it was just a particularly severe infection that sent her lymph system into overdrive.
Tomorrow I shall start getting things ready for our holiday. I want to change the bed linen before we leave and have as much done as possible. I shall not feel like housework for a day or two after my eye operation and shall not visit my aged uncle on the Tuesday afternoon. We saw him yesterday and he ate a cream slice and some chocolate buttons. I have got over the resentment I felt over his niece telephoning the manager of the home about a television set that would be no use to him. I am sure that she and her daughter meant well and were just thoughtless. She would not remember the article from the Daily Mail that she sent me. It was about surgery for age-related macular degeneration. Mr McLean, consultant ophthalmologist, opined that it would not be suitable for him, partly because of his age and because it would probably not be successful anyway. The manager of the home wants me to see her about a "care plan". I am mystified about this; the residents' needs are obvious and the fees are steep. Surely no planning should be necessary over and above the routine organisation of such an establishment. The present manager is not too bad. The excellent Marion Flett left a few years ago. Her successor, one Tracy Katterns, was not up to the job and I made many complaints to the head office because of problems. It is so tiring, forever complaining. The present receptionist is sour-faced and unhelpful, although not as obnoxious as the person who worked for the dreadful Katterns.
I am still taking Co-codamol to help me sleep. I still do not want to get up in the mornings but I always do. I keep going. I have been alone behind the till at the charity shop the last two mornings I was there; Ethel was not well again. On Wednesday there were few members of staff there again. I coped; I enjoy the work. I suppose that it is necessary for me to do this or I shall become a complete recluse. I am rather relieved that my intolerance of spectacle correction does not allow me to play bridge now; I doubt that I could put up with the politics of the bridge club and I could not meet the exacting standards of some of the people we know. It was my idea to learn and the benefits for Dan have been immense. He has made many friends and has new activities. It was because of the people we met playing bridge that he joined the Probus Club. His chairmanship of the residents' association her in our block of flats led to his playing petanque twice a week. I am glad for him; I am not much company some times. I enjoy the walks but I am being excluded now from the tougher ones with our friends. I cannot manage the hills so easily. I spend those Sundays alone unless someone is free to collect me and take me to lunch at whatever pub they have decided to visit for lunch. I do not mind this. I can catch up on domestic chores and listen to my IPod or watch an old film on television. The Sunday walks will begin again in June.
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