Pat at home

Lorraine had a phone call this morning saying Pat was going to be released from hospital, and they would set off in two hours. Maureen was sleeping on the sofa downstairs, so we got up and Lorraine was around there with Maureen in good time. I'd got up early and had done  some writing, and had just settled back at my desk when Lorraine called in a panic saying the ambulance had arrived early, and she'd had to leave Maureen in the car to be with Pat. I walked round and helped an upset Maureen into the flat. Once we got everyone settled, and I'd made some tea, Lorraine opened the discharge letter and it was for a woman patient, with a similar surname. Lorraine called the ward. Beth, who happened to be in Eastbourne, was able to collect the right one. 

When Beth gave Lorraine the letter had no mention of the acute and severe hypertension, which was the main cause of his admission in the first place. Lorraine has started an official complaint. She also talked it through with Sue. During the day a team came and brought some equipment, and from tomorrow Pat will get help at home four times a day for a few days, with getting up and so on. So that part of it was good. 

Lorraine has done her absolute best, and was with Pat and Maureen all day for the fifth day in a row. The responsibility is exhausting. She popped home, and after we'd eaten the chicken curry I made, at nine o'clock we went back to the flat to help Pat into bed. A bold and handsome fox lurking outside Stratheden when we arrived.

Then home little before ten. Lorraine had a much needed gin and tonic, and we watched Traitors on TV. 

As for me... It was raining all afternoon. I spoke to Mum, and then went for a walk just as the rain was really chucking it down. I wore my old expensive walking boots. I got back and they were rather wet. I left them in the porch and came back for them later. I hadn't worn them for quite a while, but one layer of the soles had literally disintegrated, leaving the bottoms flapping. Mystifying. The dying boots had kept the water out however,  and I managed to do my paces for the day despite the hosing rain. 

I played with the meta book however. Discovered more of the thoughts of the teenage Peter Kenny, for what they were worth. Interestingly there was a bit of a poem about a green stained glass window and foliage. Imagine 45 years or so later, I would be making a green window. I thought about poems, in between checking on Lorraine, and helping when I could.

Below, a walk in the torrential rain.