
Chris is home.
She came home yesterday afternoon, at about 5.00 pm. It was wonderful to spend the evening with her, chatting, watching the tv and dozing. This is what you do when you have been married for over 40 years. There have been dark times when I thought we would never do so again.
Two lovely young carers came at about 21.00 to put her to bed. We bonded with them instantly; they are young and it is what we do. Chris went out like a light at about 23.00. The girls are back again only 12 hours later, and are getting her up, giving her a wash, dressing her etc. "Not a lot" was the reply to my, "How much sleep did you get last night." They look tired.
A big thing happened yesterday, that Chris and I only realised much later last night. Chris could only tolerate about 30 minutes out of bed when the care staff at the nursing home started to put her into an armchair. They gradually developed her tolerance. Over the last 3 weeks or so, they have been getting her up for breakfast, wheeling her into a lounge until lunch, and taking her to back to bed only after lunch. Chris had built her tolerance up to 5 hours.
Yesterday, the nursing home staff left her in the wheelchair all day because there was uncertainty over the exact time I could pick her up - x, y and z had to be in place first, that kind of thingy. I had no way of moving her once we got home, so Chris had to remain in the wheelchair and had been out of bed for about 13 hours by the time the carers came to put her to bed - apparently without suffering so long as I moved her legs from time to time. This is epic, fantastic, unbelievable.
Is this the same lady who remained unmoved and unconscious with more drips sticking into her than I thought it was possible for a body to host, only a few months ago? Wow.
This means I can start to address a problem that has been looming over us for some time now. We are broke. I have been papering over the financial cracks for a while now by liquidating my trading account - which was not large to start with. I shall have to do that again soon, and there will be nothing left.
I pranged my car a couple of weeks ago and it has just been taken off by the insurers repair company, who say it is a write-off. I am not surprised. The car was great mechanically, but was 9 years old with 119,000 miles on the clock. There was not a lot of damage as it was not a dramatic prang and was still drivable, but the guy who picked it up said that the torn bumper would cost over £400, and I doubt the entire car was worth that. I am waiting for figures from the insurance company, but they are not going to give me much.
Which leaves my needing to find cash to add to whatever little the insurers stump up, to buy something that is actually drivable. I don't need luxury - you don't get that in a 9 year old car with 119,000 miles on the clock. I do need something that runs. The finances will start to recover now Chris is home. The kids are back for lessons after the summer, and the school at which I teach is back in business - although that is not accessible by public transport from the middle of nowhere where we live.
I cannot borrow. I have a credit rating that would have a loan shark putting away his wallet, looking pale and shaken, and backing out of the room rapidly.
So, any of those tiny gifts that you generous people sometimes send my way would be really, really appreciated right now -
pianodoodler@hotmail.com, account name Philip Hopwood. Anybody wanting 'private' EA's coding - now is the perfect time to ask. Sorry folks, but I would not ask were I not a tad on the desperate side. It would not have occurred to me to do thisTommaso suggested it. He has become a close personal friend and confidant throughout all this and knows more about me than anyone other than my wife and son, so blame him.
Chris and I will get through this. Life is never easy. We have been in an infinitely darker place than this and are so, soo, sooooo relieved to be through it. You guys have helped enormously. Having the encouragement and support of so many people she did not know helped Chris a lot, lot, lot.

Chris is home.
