Harvest Shittest day ever.
I recovered from the bike ride, no aches or pains, was planning to go out today, even thought about stretching my typical (solo) six miler, to up to 14 miles, to get a good run out.
Birthday and wedding anniversary today, not in itself worthy of anything at all. But there was another reality speeding towards us.
Wife's Mum (aged 82) is with us. She was driven down on Friday by the wife, to help settle her. She's black and blue from a recent fall, then black some more from slipping in her own piss on a laminate floor in her bedroom right onto a radiator, five foot away from an an alarm buzzer that she could not reach for four hours.
She was up and down on Friday but Saturday evening left her being delirious and projectile vomiting in her bed. Wife was knelt by her bedside and got her off to sleep at 5.00am.
Sunday morning 7.00am my wife called 111, then a paramedic arrived in a car, next came an ambulance, speeding her across to Leighton Hospital, on the outskirts of Crewe. As per the beautiful NHS, they settled her, much better than the cocodamol we've been giving her and then they did a brain x-ray, just to rule out a brain bleed.
Lesions. Many of them, secondary site. That's at 3.30pm. At 2.30pm we were thinking of a UTI. One hour to change the world via hand grenade visited upon us.
I was there at 4.00pm and left at 5.00pm.
By 6.00pm the word 'terminal' is introduced into the mix, with an MRI booked for early Monday, looking for lung and/or spinal column primary.
I know how this ends, I just don't know the timeline. The wife is insistent that she dies in Glasgow. Her brother and sister are not processing this well.
Well you wouldn't would you...