Yesterday was spent putting things away or trying to find new (tidy) places for them) - and brewing up a vicious head cold. After not sleeping at all well last night, I tottered out of bed this morning feeling wretched but there was no going back to bed for me. Michael had a whole body bone scan today. This involved being injected with radio active material, waiting three hours and then having a gamma ray camera crawl all over you.
This left me with a lot of time to pass which was spent sniffing and watching the hospital at work. Worcester Royal is a big hospital and it has a huge glass block as its front entrance which everyone passes through. Cowering in a one corner is a Costa Coffee which is pretty big but dwarfed by its surroundings. Do you realise that no-one dresses up to go hospital? All ages and conditions pass through those double doors and no-one but no-one looks smart. They all look anxious whether they are going home or coming in. Few people come by themselves and there is more hand-holding than I have seen for a long time. A middleaged daughter holding her father's hand, a young mother with a stroppy eight-year-old son. She starts to yell at him, remembers something, bits her lip, turns her head away. A very old lady in a wheelchair comforts a middle-aged man (her son) who is crying. Couples (young, old, very old) hold hands. The only people who look happy are from the maternity unit, ecstatic young men carrying bags while she carries the new baby.
Now I am home, I am still sniffing and unlikely to do anything useful this evening. I feel so poorly that that does not even worry me. Maybe tomorrow.