2007 — 27 October: drizzly-looking Saturday, too
Time now (09:56) and breakfast is on its way down while Junior nicks all my hot water for his morning shower. I'm a poor old pensioner, you know.
Had my first call to Her and am again delighted and mightily relieved to hear Her sounding Her usual cheerful self. She reports having had a "wonderful" night with two major blocks of sleep — actually a bit better than I managed, in fact, but somehow I didn't feel it necessary to tell Her that.
Now it's time to hit (or, preferably, miss) the Saturday morning shopping traffic as we scurry round to stock up on a few items and then get ready for our early afternoon visit to the General. Unfunnily1 enough, I foresee lots of parking and traffic practice in my very near future. Now would be a good time to take cover, indeed.
And for the afternoon?
A little light traffic on the way to the General, please. Nothing too complex. Off we jolly well go!
We got my wish. Travel to was very easy, and we parked (for free) just outside the cemetery entrance as we did last week, so no tricky car park entrances to battle through. My Lady looked as lovely as ever and was delighted to see a slideshow on Peter's Mac of his recent weekend in Rhodes (before all this nightmare began, actually, so not so recent really). She is calm and collected, and looking forward to what She hopes will be a quieter environment (with much more flexible visiting arrangements) in the hospice. Now that the pain control is fully back onstream things are much better, She says. My thanks to the doctor who sorted out the problem.
After they'd weighed2 her(!) it was time to go as Peter wanted to make an early start back to London. Can't say I envy him the journey, but at least he's delighted with his new Aygo. What it is to be young, heh? Driving back actually needed lights on — came back via Chilworth and Baddesley for the extra practice. Junior tells me I tend to drift too far over to the left (probably my incipient paranoia). I've also now adjusted both the seat and the steering wheel in an effort to ward off the back and shoulder aches. Could just be dynamic muscular tension, of course. And another 46.9 miles under my belt for the day. Soon be time to visit another petrol shop at this rate. (I'm currently clocking up about twice as many miles as "normal", but we're very far from normal. Believe me, I'd give a lot to be nearer normal.)
From this evening's call, just moments ago:
D: Peter set off at about 5 o'clock. C: So, now you're alone? D: Yes... now I'm alone, love. But I still have you. C: I'm very tired now. D: I'll see you again tomorrow... Sleep well, my love.
I'm sure She will. I hope I do, too. Goodnight!