Chapter 5 - A Bad Night
As light broke this morning we both shuffled down to the hall to our respective conveniences. I was banished long ago to the second bathroom because I dribble too much. And now she has a raised toilet seat permanently attached to hers to assist her rising from the throne, and even so, at times she can't make it off. Women always complain that men always leave the lid up; now she has to leave the lid up as the raised seat prevents it being lowered. Whenever visitors are expected I am detailed to "clean your toilet" - I suspect she enjoys directing me so which makes her comment to others "he doesn't do toilets" null & void now.
Anyway, back into bed, the small desk fan was on, blowing cool air across the beds. I simply rolled into bed as I suppose most people do, it's a skill no one takes much notice of. She paused then walked her knees across her bed then fell on her side as previously described. Some short time later I heard a noise so turned to see her standing beside her bed, slightly stooped, slightly tremoring. "What's wrong dear?" "I just can't figure out how to get back in". She had become uncomfortable so needed to rise to get back in, and now couldn't. In a drowsy state I watched for 10 or 20 seconds. She made no move to get in. Like a diver at the end of a diving board high above the water unable to commit to launching herself. I rose, had her reverse up to the edge of the bed, then seat herself, I lifted her legs, swung them onto the bed, then rotated & lowered her so that she was on her left side. She remains in that position, more than half an hour later, so I presume she is comfortable. She had told me that last night she suffered pains in her lower legs, not in her back or hips. Sharp pain where she injured her ankle in the fall. While I slept soundly last night, she repeatedly got in & out of bed until chamomile tea and Panedol gave her relief around 02:00. "Why didn't you wake me?" "I didn't like to" she replied.
As mentioned above, a small fan blows air across the beds during the night. This is to alleviate hot flushes she has, even though the nights are comfortably cool at this time of the year. During daytime she usually sits near a pedestal fan to cool her sweating face which she frequently mops with tissues. At times her upper body is quite warm to the touch. Just another symptom. Our small air conditioner in the lounge room does not cool the remainder of the living area well enough to help her, or perhaps air flow from the fan is better.
A few days ago a very good friend of mine offered me a bottle of red Burgundy, genuine French, Bouchard Aine & Fils, Nuits St Georges, 1971 that he had been keeping for a time not meant to be, a sad & personal story I musn't reveal. To his horror when he turned his bottles, an act he performs quarterly, in his wine rack (although this man has not imbibed during some 20 years or more) he detected that this special bottle was leaking. Although he thought the wine probably unpalatable, he could not bring himself to pour it down the sink. So he offered it to me to taste. To my cretin taste the wine was quite acceptable. So my friend left me to consume it as soon as possible. I sealed the bottle and invited two other friends around the following evening for a wine and cheese binge. Over the course of 4 hours we feasted on wine, cheese and fruit and a few good stories. And remembered my friend who no longer drinks. All this time we sat at our dining table on hard wooden chairs. The point of this story is how she was able to rise from the table without pushing herself up by her arms as she usually does, even after forgetting to take her evening meds. Then we walked around the village. Simply amazing, yet since then she has not been very comfortable, although able to walk the village each evening quite well.
Technically good news - I read the Blogger help file to discover that I needed to allow pop-ups from the Blogger site for spell checking to work. So a few errors in this particular post have been corrected but several doubtfuls remain just because I like the look of them. And we all know that the Cousins are unable to spell proper anyway.
Anyway, back into bed, the small desk fan was on, blowing cool air across the beds. I simply rolled into bed as I suppose most people do, it's a skill no one takes much notice of. She paused then walked her knees across her bed then fell on her side as previously described. Some short time later I heard a noise so turned to see her standing beside her bed, slightly stooped, slightly tremoring. "What's wrong dear?" "I just can't figure out how to get back in". She had become uncomfortable so needed to rise to get back in, and now couldn't. In a drowsy state I watched for 10 or 20 seconds. She made no move to get in. Like a diver at the end of a diving board high above the water unable to commit to launching herself. I rose, had her reverse up to the edge of the bed, then seat herself, I lifted her legs, swung them onto the bed, then rotated & lowered her so that she was on her left side. She remains in that position, more than half an hour later, so I presume she is comfortable. She had told me that last night she suffered pains in her lower legs, not in her back or hips. Sharp pain where she injured her ankle in the fall. While I slept soundly last night, she repeatedly got in & out of bed until chamomile tea and Panedol gave her relief around 02:00. "Why didn't you wake me?" "I didn't like to" she replied.
As mentioned above, a small fan blows air across the beds during the night. This is to alleviate hot flushes she has, even though the nights are comfortably cool at this time of the year. During daytime she usually sits near a pedestal fan to cool her sweating face which she frequently mops with tissues. At times her upper body is quite warm to the touch. Just another symptom. Our small air conditioner in the lounge room does not cool the remainder of the living area well enough to help her, or perhaps air flow from the fan is better.
A few days ago a very good friend of mine offered me a bottle of red Burgundy, genuine French, Bouchard Aine & Fils, Nuits St Georges, 1971 that he had been keeping for a time not meant to be, a sad & personal story I musn't reveal. To his horror when he turned his bottles, an act he performs quarterly, in his wine rack (although this man has not imbibed during some 20 years or more) he detected that this special bottle was leaking. Although he thought the wine probably unpalatable, he could not bring himself to pour it down the sink. So he offered it to me to taste. To my cretin taste the wine was quite acceptable. So my friend left me to consume it as soon as possible. I sealed the bottle and invited two other friends around the following evening for a wine and cheese binge. Over the course of 4 hours we feasted on wine, cheese and fruit and a few good stories. And remembered my friend who no longer drinks. All this time we sat at our dining table on hard wooden chairs. The point of this story is how she was able to rise from the table without pushing herself up by her arms as she usually does, even after forgetting to take her evening meds. Then we walked around the village. Simply amazing, yet since then she has not been very comfortable, although able to walk the village each evening quite well.
Technically good news - I read the Blogger help file to discover that I needed to allow pop-ups from the Blogger site for spell checking to work. So a few errors in this particular post have been corrected but several doubtfuls remain just because I like the look of them. And we all know that the Cousins are unable to spell proper anyway.
posted by Kilpike | 7:23 am
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