jmgoyder

Today was a bit of a strange collection of moments so I have decided to write this post in point form:

• Son and I arrive at nursing lodge at 11.30am to have lunch with Husband (we had arranged meals for us too – amazing and only just found out we could do this any time!)
• Husband has difficulty getting out of the armchair in his room but the three of us slowly make our way to the dining room (Son getting grumpy, me getting hungry)
• We get to the dining room to find staff have set up a special table just for us out in the garden area (I am amazed and impressed by this thoughtfulness)
• Our meals are served to us as if we are in a restaurant and we all sit down (although by the time I get Husband into his chair and sitting comfortably, our roast dinner is getting a little cool and Son is beginning to grimace ferociously)
• We all begin to eat and Son and I take turns trying to open the special beer for Husband which requires a bottle opener which is not something nursing lodges have on hand
• Husband starts eating his meal as if it is his last meal ever (he has always eaten enthusiastically), so Son and I do the same until we are full then Husband asks for our leftovers – Son’s cauliflower and my potatoes)
• I try again with the stupid beer bottle and then Husband takes it from me and gets a fork and opens it easily (Son and I crack up laughing at our bleeding fingers and our ineptitude)
• Husband gives us both a twinkly-eyed look before telling us fondly that we are both hopeless and has a couple of sips of beer
• We exchange short, unfinished, weird conversations between mouthfuls
• Dessert arrives – some sort of creamy thing that Husband wolfs down in a state of pure bliss (I begin to feel a bit guilty that I haven’t made more desserts for him over the years!)
• Husband begins to say strange things and all of a sudden it happens; his eyes go dead, his head drops towards his chest and he is almost unconscious
• Son and I exchange looks, wondering if he is pretending (yes, Husband has a wicked sense of humour); we watch and wait and then realize it’s for real
• I go and get a nurse to come and see. I say, “This is what happened at home on Easter Monday when I got the ambulance. I just thought I should show you.”
• Several nurses come and get a bit of a shock because Husband’s eyes have rolled back, he has gone pale and he is unresponsive
• A doctor is rung, a senior nurse is contacted, a hoist is brought outside to get Husband into a wheelchair back into his room and to bed
• Son and I stay with him for another hour or so during which a nurse comes and takes his blood pressure etc. Gradually, Husband comes out of whatever it is and focusses on us but not quite – his eyes are still sharky and vague
• Son and I leave after tucking him in on his side, the way he likes to lie down and we put the ANZAC Day channel on the television for him
• Husband murmurs why are we leaving (by this time we have been there nearly 3 hours – okay, not long, but long enough)
• Son and I get home and have a bit of a tiff (neither of us are particularly upset, just frustrated I guess)
• We get out of our ute and I hear cheeping from the bush where the guinnea fowl’s eggs are and Son finds one little chick all alone, so I take him into the house with me, thinking the rest haven’t survived
• Son then discovers a dozen of them out in the back paddock with all their mummies, so we take the little one back to the group and now we are hoping they will survive tonight (I did a lot of quick research and made some phonecalls to people who know about guinnea fowl and the majority think letting nature do its best is a good call
• As dusk approaches Son and I discover that all but one guinnea mum have flown into the trees and this one dedicated mother has all the chicks under her in the paddock so we put both of our fox lights on either side of her and we are now hoping for the best until tomorrow morning
• I then ring Husband and finally get through and he says, groggily, “Where are you? I’m at home,” and I say “No, I’m at home and you’re at the nursing lodge because you had one of those turns again.” I then tell him about the guinnea fowl chicks and he is delighted in a subdued way, then asks, “But what about me?”
• “I don’t know,” I say, “Try to get some sleep, please!”(He agrees this is a good idea and I tell him I will be in tomorrow).
• I rang the nursing lodge a moment ago and spoke to a nurse who said Husband was calling out for me, over and over again and I told her I couldn’t get through to him on his phone so would she check him out and say goodnight for us and she said of course and reassured me
• And outside, between those fox lights, one mother guinnea fowl nestles her chicks underneath her and I hope for the best….