Finally we are moving forward.

What a week it has been.

The smaller portion was operated on last Friday to restore an ileostomy.  Not the outcome either of us wanted, but necessary.  In the following days his surgeon gained the nickname of the 'invisible surgeon'.  He apparently made no visits to the hospital over the weekend, leaving it to the hospital registrar or to the intern.  Their visits all took place at a time when the smaller portion was either non compos mentis, asleep or in the shower.  We know that if either a bagless state or a return to the more manageable colostomy are possible at least one more and more likely two more operations will be necessary.  We wanted to discuss what had been done, and what the smaller portion's could expect in his future.  It seems these are unreasonable requirements.

Finally on Monday the smaller portion was allowed clear fluids.  Which he promptly vomited.  So they moved him back to nil by mouth.  He was rushed off to x-ray and there was talk that he had a new blockage - in the small bowel to match the untreated one in his large bowel.  There were murmurs of leaving it to settle by itself. There were also talks of further surgery.   His sister and I were less than happy and tried (very hard) to make an appointment to see his surgeon.

'The doctors do their rounds between six and eight in the morning.  You would not be welcome.'
'You could come in around nine and ask to have the registrar paged.  Lots of doctors (including by inference the one we wanted) are on holidays.  It is school holidays you know.'

So we came in the next morning, arriving at about quarter to nine.  The registrar was paged.  And paged again, and again, and again.  Finally the intern arrived to say that if we waited he knew we were here.

The registrar arrived (over three hours after he was first paged).  He really didn't want to talk to us.  Tough.  He pooh-poohed the idea that the smaller portion had another blockage, while leaving it open as a remote possibility.  He professed himself very happy with progress, but refused to discuss any long term prospects.  'They are matters which should be discussed with the surgeon at the follow-up consultation.'  He agreed (when pushed) that it may benefit the smaller portion to hear that he didn't have another blockage.  When it became obvious that we were not going anywhere he proceeded to do just that, adding that the smaller portion could have fluids again.

Which the smaller portion lost fairly dramatically during visiting hours that night.  I gather that many visitors to the ward  (we were not there) were adversely affected.  How sad, never mind.  Back to ice and intravenous anti-nausea medication.  We also found out - after the event naturally, that the smaller portion has been on the emergency surgery list for the twenty-four hours which included our discussion with the registrar.  Hiss and spit.

The next night?  The same as the first, just a little bit louder and a whole lot worse.

Somewhere in the middle of the week we, as opposed to he, had a very bad day.  I made myself a cup of tea.  I put the teabag in my cup, added the water and then the milk.  I took a sip.  I took another sip.  It was cold.  I hadn't turned the jug on.  I finished it.  Later that day his sister wanted a cup of soup.  She tipped the packet into her bowl.  She added water.  She stirred it, she tasted it, you guessed it. She drank it.   We think it was on the same day that I shut her in the garage.  Like a good passenger I hopped out of the car and opened up the garage.  She drove in.  I shut the garage.  'Haven't you forgotten something?'.  'No, what?'  'Me.'  Oops.

Today we have had a turn around.  The doctors have been round and have promoted him to eating food again.  And he had porridge (which he dislikes) for breakfast and an egg and lettuce sandwich (which he hates) for lunch.  When last we saw him he had retained both of them.  We have however told him that if the hospital makes going home noises tomorrow he is to tell them that he doesn't have enough money for a taxi home, has no house keys and has no-one to pick him up.  I hope he heard that.

There have, as usual, been some wonderful sights to brighten our days.

Early morning glory.

Birdy joy at the hospital.

More birdy joy.

And the delights of a gentle rain and low cloud down the valley this afternoon.

Thank you all for your support and good wishes.  They have meant a lot.  In the coming days I hope to be able to come back and pay some long overdue visits to your blogs.

A very quick update

Good news at last.  The smaller portion has come through his operation with flying colours.  The ileostomy has been completely reversed.  Wobbly dances all round.

For those of you who have come in late my mother always referred to my partner as 'my better half'.  I loathed it.  I am taller so I insisted that if we were assigning proportions he could only be my smaller portion.  Which mama liked nearly as little as I did the term 'better half'.  Essentially a standoff.

I am still tired to the bone, nauseous and in pain.  I am not certain whether it is MS, my thyroid issues, or both which have made me feel so vile, but at least I can remove worry from the list of stressors.

The smaller portion is likely to remain in hospital until early next week as food is slowly re-introduced to his digestive system.  His sister has not yet announced a departure date.  Sigh.

Thank you all, yet again, for the support which you have given me.  In my wobbly weepy way I have appreciated it more than I can say.  I am still going to only have very limited time to play in the blogosphere, but hope that slowly I will be able to change that.

Callooh, callay O frabjus day

The smaller portion is almost certainly coming home tomorrow.

When I went up to see him this morning they had taken him off the oxygen, and were testing his capacity to breathe without it.  He walked a complete circuit of the ward and was only very slightly breathless.  He recovered quickly too.  So the physiotherapist gave him a tick.

All the tubes and cannulas have also been removed.  He is eating.  And drinking.

The stoma nurse came to see him this morning and gave him an interim supply of equipment to take home.  She also promised that she would order a month's supply to be delivered.  And is obviously as good as her word because they are here.

A community nurse will come by on Monday to remove the sixty or seventy staples currently holding him together.  And will be on call should he/we need her.

I am really, really happy, but still miffed that they couldn't have done it this way the last time.

He agreed to photos today too.  I was right, he was happier about the bruises on his wrists and arms being captured than his face.  And since I too am camera phobic I didn't push it - but now have a couple of nice photos to cherish while the beard grows back.

Thanks for all the support - it meant a lot.