Home but Feeling Deserted By The NHS

Thursday 10 July 2025. So yesterday was my first full day at home. I had so much to do: seemingly a thousand boxes of pills to sort out and work out when each needed to be taken...

The house insurance was due and the company had decided to cease operating so I had to phone up and sort that out. I also tried without success to sort out an appointment with the District Nurses. The best they could offer was in 3 weeks.

So this morning I need to ring the walking centre apparently. They will only book appointments for the current day. It is now the 4th day since my legs were redressed.

We did an online grocery order. I went out with Miss Franny to admire the display of roses in the garden. Getting out of the front door was a bit testing but I got out and back in without mishap. I did the same with the back door to have a look at the apple tree and express surprise at the juniper tree - a new home gift from Janet and Graham, six years ago. Early on the wind broke the trunk in a winter storm and I had to tie it to a cane. It looked like it might not recover for a couple of years but now it's climbing 3/4 up towards the garage roof...

Then a much needed relax. Fran made lunch and we watched the first of many recorded episodes of The Footage Detectives from Talking Pictures TV. Then a much needed nap before Grace popped in on her way home from school.

We were in bed early, but spent an hour or two watching yet more recordings on the telly. The remote upstairs must be powerful because as I switched off the Sky box upstairs we heard a noise from downstairs where the main Sky box had come on, in turn switching on the downstairs TV...

Friday 11 July 2025. Sorry, today's report may be short. Trying to get any aftercare, specifically having the legs redressed has been an absolute nightmare. Between the District Nurses main line, the doctor's surgery and the walk-in centres at Blackpool and Fleetwood I've been told to ring the next service until I had gone round in a circle twice...

I tried the Discharge Team back at Clifton but they could only advise the same three options. Fleetwood walk-in centre only offered a ray of hope in that if I phoned back first thing in the morning I could make an appointment but they had no trained nurses and would only be able to change top or wet dressings... How that turned out is a tale for tomorrow...

For Heaven's sake is there no written policy specifying who has final responsibility for this? And as one friend commented: "And that’s why A&E is collapsing... It becomes the last resort."

Saturday 12 July 2025. So yesterday....I phoned the walk-in centre first thing and got an appointment for 11.00am. I was warned that all they could do was change any wet bandages, not the dressings beneath, so back on the merry go round with no further success. By the end I was so distressed I was shaking both with anger and distress.

I got a call from one of the nurses at Clifton who had treated me and he said I needed the legs redressed fully twice a week but the hospital couldn't help with that.

We got into a taxi and went to Fleetwood. The nurses there went berserk. They weren't fully trained nurses. They apparently had a long history of this sort of thing with my particular surgery.

Whilst one took off the wet bandage on my right leg and wound a new one around, her colleague with steam coming out of her ears went off to get her boss to ring the surgery and play hell. She was spitting about total breakdown of duty of care.

I've no idea what was said but I got a call from the surgery whilst in the taxi home and then a further more detailed one not long after we got home. The legs will be fully redressed twice a week at the District Nurses downstairs from the surgery where I'd been going before.

The GP Receptionist had the nerve to ask how I felt. So I told her. I felt totally let down, angry and upset. Unbelievably she ended with "have a good weekend ". Grrrr...

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I'm Home!

Tuesday 8 July 2025. It's going to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster again, sorry but bare with me...

It started first thing in the morning with a text message from granddaughter, Grace: "Grandad come home". Seven o'clock in the morning and I couldn't stop staring at and re-reading those three words. Sobbing, tears streaming. Just couldn't stop. Tears again just writing this...

A nurse came in to do my early morning tests and uttered a sound of dismay, "John, what's the matter?" I couldn't speak. I just showed him the message. I calmed down for a bit but those three words kept going through my brain and I'd set off again.

I was late therefore getting down to the Day Room. Only one of our gang of three was there. 'T' turned up a bit later. His daughter was coming to take him out for lunch.

The nurse in charge of Breakfast Club made me some toast, poured me a box of cornflakes and gave me some milk, butter and marmalade... The Three Musketeers can make breakfast last a long time...

Someone squatted at my side: "John I'm from the Discharge Team, we're sending you home today." Multiple emotions again: shock, relief, hope, panic, joy... Nurses assured me they would ensure that all my stuff would be bagged up ready. It would be in the afternoon.

One of the Physios came over to ask how I felt, was I ready, was I worried about anything? Blimey, how long have you got? But that was a knee-jerk reaction. Mainly any concerns were around the differences between the methods followed by the surgery District Nurses and that of the hospital. Let's not forget that one had been treating me for ten months with only limited improvements and I've been in hospital for nine weeks and the improvement has been astonishing.

Another update: "You're going this morning." Well I wasn't... Dinner came and went and one of the nurses took me walking round the garden and once more through the poly tunnel. Judges from Britain in Bloom were expected.

It was getting towards teatime. Apparently the transport team were in the building, we were waiting for the pharmacy to dispense my meds - an unbelievably huge bag of boxes when it arrived. Lots of goodbyes. Nurses of all ranks, the musketeers...

Loaded into the ambulance for a trip along Blackpool prom. Lovely weather, lots of people, a bit of a traffic jam going past the Tower.

Home. Miss Franny. More tears, quickly stifled as the Care Team were already waiting with more equipment. They had me walk to and sit on the downstairs loo, get up again, climb upstairs, same with the upstairs loo, onto and off the bed, going downstairs he stopped me and showed me how to come down more sideways like a crab holding two spindles rater than the balcony and my stick. I tried it, it was definitely easier.

A long talk and they left and it was time to hug and be hugged. A few more tears but now they were tears of relief and happiness.

Gill and Grace came. So good to see them and to see the obvious relief on Grace's face.

We were in bed early. I was exhausted. I talked Miss Franny through all the pillow placements, a rolled one under the knees and a flat one under my feet to keep my calves lifted off the bed as much as possible. Maneuvering myself on the bed was a bit difficult- no safety bars to grab!

I'm home. No: even better than that... I'M HOME!

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Mind Going Haywire - More from 7 July 2025

Monday 7 July 2025 - the bits missing from the last entry, unless they contradict anything in which case who knows when I'm writing about...?

Well Monday passed without me hearing the term "Piano John" again so it was short-lived nickname! After the usual 5.30am pill and blood pressure tests etc I must have really dropped off again. My phone alarm warned me it was time to ring Miss Franny but then once again I fell asleep for another hour.

Down to the Day Room. The nurse who had recorded the video showed it to me but said she would have to get permission to pass it on as there was a strict rule about nurses having access to patients' phone numbers. It was almost nearly approaching good though...

Anyway one of the nurses took me outside during the morning. It was beautiful and sunny but cool because of the breeze. She held my hand as I was still a bit wobbly walking with just the walking stick and we went through the poly tunnel, a half tube of plastic material acting as a greenhouse.

They grow cucumbers, herbs and tomatoes of epic size. Some look more like small pumpkins...

We came out the far end to some chairs and I gratefully took one, it had been a long walk for me and whilst I could tell I was walking better as we came through the tunnel, a rest was very welcome.

So now I was a bit tired and a bit proud that I had managed and all other emotions, wondering when I'd be home, whether I'd cope, what had caused the fall etc. As we talked the nurse hit one of those nerve points and tears suddenly started.

She was lovely, she hugged me and talked me through it... perhaps too quickly, sometimes you need to let these emotions out and I'm one of those who has to be there for everyone else. I always have been. So it's a strange experience for me to need that sort of support myself.

Anyway she said she would bring me out with the sketchbook after lunch and we went back in just as lunch came round. Afterwards someone from the discharge team came to see me. It looks like I'll be home mid week! Fingers crossed.

True to her word the nurse took me back out with the sketchbook after lunch had been cleared.

It wasn't a scene I would have picked myself but I gave it my best.

After tea I was flagging. I went to bed early and zonked. I woke guiltily at 8.00pm, convinced it was morning so deep had been my sleep. I phoned Miss Franny, confusing her no end by apologising for missing two calls when really I was still an hour to go before I was due our goodnight call at 9.00pm...

Zonked again... So now was awakened at 5.00am for first pill and wide awake! If I'm lucky this now refers to Tuesday 8 July...

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Approaching Release

Sunday 6 July 2025. Six o'clock in the morning. First pill arrived half an hour ago. Another 11 due with breakfast and then sporadically through the rest of the day. The state of my mind at this time may account for today's report which talks about Saturday - already covered in my last entry. This one, supposedly about the same day, is completely different... These entries are more or less direct copies taken from entries to friends on Facebook at the time. So I have no explanation, your Honour...

Yesterday was a slow day. (See!!!) The three musketeers gathered around our usual table and astonishingly were joined by the Mutterer. That made any normal conversation difficult.

As I walked down to the Day Room I had passed one of the cleaners, a grizzled old (though probably a bit younger than me) chap who I have made a point of talking to every day. It's amazing how many people just ignore cleaners as they go about their business. They deserve to be treated as you would treat anyone else and always appreciate it. When he saw me walking with just the walking stick, his face lit up and he said how well I'd done. "I'm proud of you!" He said as I returned his grin.

It was a quiet day. (Sheesh - I couldn't even make my mind up whether it ws slow or quiet!) We were given more toast than even we could eat then the morning passed. By afternoon the family had been in the shape of three generations of ladies and one girl. I gave up trying to doze at the table and went across to the larger armchairs and that was it until I was woken by our tea trays arriving.

We all gave up around 7.00pm. I had to go back to my room anyway to have my legs redressed. They continue to improve every time I see them. Only the big wound on my right leg remains liable to bleed. Even the large one on my left calf has now broken up into several tiny scabs. The right leg is shown below. it looks a bit like a slab of meat to be honest so scroll quickly if you are of a nervous disposition...

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The pattern (for want of a better word) on my leg is caused by the bandages having been applied fairly tightly.

So... I need to continue getting more steady with the walking and to follow the good advice from staff and friends who are experienced nurses themselves. I'll try to get a copy of the jingle recording tomorrow.

Monday 7 July 2025. It marks a full eight weeks in hospital, though the time spent here at Clifton Hospital has been quite a bit more pleasant than the first five weeks at Victoria. The food is better, the ambiance with the garden and day room is better, and whilst there has been some shouting, it's a good deal quieter and no one has felt the need for fisticuffs.

I seem to have a new nickname. A couple of nurses were walking towards the Day Room where we were waiting for breakfast. I overheard their conversation:

"It's for John."
"Which John?"
"Piano John!"

Several nurses came to say how fabulous the video was. I still haven't seen it. The nurse who has it isn't in until tomorrow.

The Three Musketeers were joined for breakfast by a cheery red haired lady. "Just a little advice," I said, "when the toast appears, grab it fast!"

All three of the musketeers seem close to going home. I'll miss them. And I will miss several of the nurses too. But we are not quite there yet so...

Although I sleep well at night, by afternoon (and for this context afternoon starts about 10 o'clock in the morning) we are all three dozy and sleepy. 'T' went first, sitting at the table slumped forward with his head resting awkwardly, or at times leaning sideways so close to me that I had to wake him, worried he would fall out of the chair.

I was next, though The Wanderer had given me an interesting book on the Kray brothers. I woke only when lunch appeared by which time even The Wanderer had succumbed. A mischievous nurse bent down low and bawled his name as loud as she could. I was awake and I jumped out of my skin... The Wanderer's eyes opened wide, so much so that it looked really comical!

Miss Franny and my cousin came to see me after visiting Mum in her nursing home. Then tea arrived, seemingly far too soon after lunch. Both are 3 course meals. Two of us found that our order for rice pudding had been mysteriously substituted with semolina. We both had the same instant response... nostalgia for school dinners is all very well but there are some things I would rather forget about!

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More Physiotherapy and Composing at the Piano

Saturday 5 July 2025. It's weekend. Usually that means fewer staff but yesterday they were running on low numbers anyway. Our usual table by the window in the Day Room was free though and we were joined by one of the ladies from the women's ward.

The table had been set out already and looked very refined with a full set of matching China plates, cups and saucers. We started with cereals then moved onto a couple or more slices of toast, half a packet of butter and a pot full of jam or marmalade single portion tubs.

One of the physios came round to ask if I fancied a climb up the stairs. I agreed and was wheeled down the maze of corridors, past the gym and I realised that by "stairs" they meant a full uncarpeted very solid flight of concrete stairs.

The Physio nurses (there are two of them and both lovely) said they would support me but I asked for my walking stick from my room as I wanted to see how I could manage on my own after the fall which led to this 8 weeks and counting hospital stay.

With the stick in one hand and the handrail firmly gripped I took a deep breath and climbed the first step, one foot then the other. A bit wobbly but I did another, then another until I reached the top where I sank gratefully into a chair. I had done it... the same number of steps as we have at home! After a short while I swapped the stick to my other hand and went down, a slightly more scary climb as I was now looking down the drop before me. But slowly I reached the bottom and the physios were full of praise for me as I was wheeled back to the ward.

I asked to do a walk with the stick on the flat. It felt so familiar a thing to do. So since then I've not touched either wheelchair or Zimmer frame, but have walked with my trusty walking stick to and from Day Room and loo or bedroom. It felt good.

Someone said the photo of me and one of our little gang of three at the Breakfast Club was on the wall so I had a look and later was given an A4 sized copy which had been laminated.

But the ward sister had another challenge in mind... "John I want you to write us a jingle to promote the Breakfast Club and we can record it this afternoon." Blimey Charlie! Playing I've done. Singing I've done. Composing I haven't done since the 1970s when I played lead guitar in a Manchester band, Spiral.

But jingles are short and club rhymes with grub so it was finished in my mind by lunchtime with Miss Franny visiting to listen and bounce ideas off. I don't read music so the tune had to be composed and memorised. For a while it changed a bit every time I attempted to sing it...

The ward sister came back in the afternoon and I went to the piano. Now I can play keyboards fairly well. Pianos require a bit more work from your left hand and I am no Paul McCartney... With two nurses both videoing me on their phones I set off. The tune was something like the one I had tried so hard to memorise. It was also a little like the theme to the TV show "The Beverley Hillbillies". Take one tripped up on the last line. Take two was pronounced a success and a round of applause came from the patients and staff in the room.

My first performance since the cancer was diagnosed. But the achievement I was most happy about was undoubtedly the walking. I feel like home may be just days away.

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I Have Physiotherapy And Save A Life

Wednesday 2 July 2025. After all the weather forecasts here yesterday saying how nice it would be it was a day of white skies and a bit of rain later. I didn't think I was all that late going to breakfast club, but our usual table was already full and our little club of three ended up sitting away from the window for the day.

Miss Franny came with her brother Bob, or Smiley Bob as he's known in dog agility circles where he acts as a judge all over the Northern hemisphere. His (I'm sure) long suffering wife Mary made up our little reunion. It's always fun to meet up with them. They arrived just as the physios' exercise class was beginning. So they joined in with the leg stretching and arm waving and general hokey cokeyness!

Then the physios whisked me off to the gym where a short flight of four steps was waiting for me to see if I could fall a bit more gracefully than I did the last time. No getting up there with a Zimmer, but they had bannister rails on both sides and so, with one of the physios behind me ready to be knocked over and give me company if I fell, I climbed slowly up the four steps to a small mock landing then came slowly back down. No falls, no submissions, and any knockouts were reserved for how I felt.

I did it another two times by which time I had done just three treads short of climbing our stairs and coming down again at home. Now I gratefully accepted the offer of a rest before skipping merrily - no, better make that 'climbing slowly' back up and down twice more.

Later on I walked to and from the toilet from the Day Room, again further than I've driven a Zimmer before. The rest of the day was spent dozing and doodling a sketch.

Thursday 3 July 2025. I'm now using the walking frame more and finding it easier with only the occasional wobble. Because of those wobbles I'm not supposed to use it without a nurse at my side or behind me to lend a supporting hand.

The TV in the day room was taken away yesterday. It was a colour TV but limited its display to blue only... the blue got darker and darker towards the top of the screen until you couldn't make out any details at all. Still it was the only hospital TV showing blue movies... The replacement hasn't shown up yet but is to be a whopping 70 inch one. This means even people at the back of the room will be able to watch it.

The weather took a bit of a turn in that whilst it was sunny and bright, there was a fair bit of breeze making it quite chilly out in the garden. Then at lunch the Mutterer (remember him?) decided he had had enough of his pudding and scrumpled his paper serviette and put it into the bowl. Five minutes later he must have changed his mind because when I turned to face him, half of the serviette was poking out of his mouth whilst he was chewing on the rest. I had to put my fingers into his mouth to get it out. Probably another life I've saved. It must have tasted horrible but he was still doing his best to get the rest into his mouth.

Our little gang of three musketeers spent the day in the Day Room as usual. Although I had been woken as usual and asked if I was going down as usual, it was 40 minutes and 9.00am after being told I was next that anyone came back for me. It transpired that some of the nursing staff were on training courses, leaving very low numbers of staff to deal with the usual number of patients.

I turned down the offer of being wheeled down in a chair and walked with the aid of my Zimmer - it now sports my name on a little tag - and used that for the rest of the day to get to and from the Day Room to the loo etc. Miss Franny witnessed one of these journeys back and I was treated to a quick look of surprise and a big beaming smile.

An Occupational Therapist came to talk to me about what I might need putting in place at home which I took as a very positive sign that I might be able to go home shortly. As I approach being in hospital for eight full weeks, that was a very pleasant prospect to think about. For my family as well as for me. Fingers crossed. Oh and I finished my sketch seen above. It's of somewhere in the Cotswolds but don't ask me where...

Friday 4 July 2025. Two workmen came in and we all thought that the new super-size TV must have arrived, but no, they were measuring for new window blinds. One of the two men was particularly suited for the job - he must have been seven feet tall...

Lytham Festival started last night with Stevie Wonder headlining. As the nurses changed over to the night shift one was yawning. "I live just four minutes from the seafront," she said, "They've been doing sound checks all day, I haven't had any sleep at all..."

It had been an overcast day and evening brought a bit of rain. The three musketeers relinquished their muskets and escape plans and one by one we were wheeled or supported as we walked back to our rooms or ward bays.

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Learning to Walk Again, June 2025

Sunday, 29 June 2025. Weekend so the physios weren't taking me off doing any exercises to help me get walking again. However instead of the sack truck I was given a Zimmer frame and used that to get into my chair and onto loo or bed as required. I also used it to walk from my bed all the way to the loo and back, an achievement of which I was ridiculously proud...

Yesterday's garden party went well. We could have been back in the 1920s for a while seated on a bit of lawn - a test for my bedside chair's small wheels - under a large table umbrella with cups of tea and scones with butter and jam. Sadly no clotted cream!

Then a singer trotted out to backing tracks - lots of 60s songs that we used to play. The weather held off and it was all very pleasant. Some visitor brought a couple of friendly dogs in. They were up for being petted as much as we were up for giving them attention. It does your mental health a pile of good.

Then last night the new bloke on our ward woke us all up at midnight watching Beavis and Butthead at full volume on his phone... I mean... do some people have no brains at all or is it just that they couldn't care less about anything other than me, me, me... This of course set off the chap with the runaway mouth who never stops talking, even to listen to nurses trying to help him. It's much worse when he's complaining that he hasn't had a laxative even though he's been to the loo, when they are dealing with something far more important with another patient.

My legs are now being redressed daily but in turn so that each leg gets done once every two days. Pleased to report the large wound just behind my toes has shrunk or closed up considerably.

Monday 30 June 2025 and the start of week 8 in hospital. Light at the end of the tunnel though as I continue to improve both in terms of the ulcers and wounds are healing and in terms of my use of the walking frame - Zimmer - and the distance I can get with it.

Days here are long and repetitive and it makes you tired and dozy. I find myself Jenkins upright from the very edge of sleep - Jenkins? Jerking! - many times. It was also very hot. No physios in on Sunday but they are back this morning and have moved that tunnel opening a bit closer. More tomorrow, I don't want to get too far ahead of myself!

Tuesday 1 July 2025. I have moved again. I now have a room to myself, no one else wittering or watching noisy videos in the middle of the night.

Apparently the previous occupant stayed in his room all the time with no company and no interaction with other people. As for me, I spend most if not all of my waking hours in the Day Room so will still see my little group of friends and be able to help my friend with Parkinsons.

My legs continue to show improvement. There looked to be a huge blister on my heel yesterday but when the nurse looked it was a lump of dry skin that fell off, leaving healthy pink skin underneath. Probably the remains of a blister...

One of the physios came to talk to me over breakfast to ask what I thought I needed before going home. I still need to build up strength in my legs and have a go at coping with stairs. We would have a job to fit a bed downstairs I think.

So more light at the end of the tunnel. I wonder though, with so much difference between the style of treatment here in hospital to how the District Nurses work - would the improvement of the past few weeks continue or not? Time and eventual discharge home will tell.

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Cancer and Leg Ulcers Index

A series of articles chronicling my personal experience with cancer and leg ulcers from 2022 onwards. The intention is mainly to inform and help fellow sufferers know what to expect and help deal with the various aspects of their own journeys through such experioences. I must stress that leg ulcers are by no means a necessary side effect of cancer and nor might they only appear after a cancer diagnosis, so it may be be best tp treat them as two totally seperate things.

Each article can be accessed by clicking / tapping the photographs below. A link at the end of each article with bring you back here.

Helping and Being Helped

Saturday, 28 June 2025. Yesterday was a dozy sort of day. I was awoken early for tests and meds and was taken down to the breakfast club by 6.30. Our friend from Bay D was there but no one else and breakfast wasn't until 8.00 by which time we were clagging for a brew (transalation: rather thirsty).

A very harassed nursing assistant finally arrived, searching with only limited success for cereal bowls, saucers (we had our China cups slithering about on plates in the end) and butter for the toast.

Already a bit short of nurses, two more were on escort duty - accompanying patients in ambulances who were being transferred to the main hospital in Blackpool.

My little old lady friend joined us for breakfast along with another old lady: "I don't like her..." I was told. She seemed OK though and joined in the chat so I'm not sure what the problem was. My little old lady friend went home later. I'll miss her mischievous banter.

It went very quiet after breakfast. We were left with just three of us most of the day. Two of us had our photos taken for posters advertising Breakfast Club. I did wonder whether to smear marmalade around my mouth for effect, but a cheery smile was all that was required.

Miss Franny came to visit then later in the day my friend with early stage Parkinsons was talking to the Staff Nurse about his release which would involve relocation to a different part of the country. He was in tears poor chap. Having sat next to him over the weeks, looking after him, wiping up if he dribbled, feeding him etc I was concerned and a bit upset myself as the nurse hugged him through his sobs

"Well you have friends don't you?" she said. I heard him say my name and the nurse briefly glanced at me and said, "yes, he's lovely isn't he?" and suddenly I was wiping my own tears.

Afterwards I asked her to wheel my chair close and held his hands and talked to him. He still has a chance of recovery and I told him to hold on to that and believe in it and that if ever he needed me I would be there always in his mind. The nurse said "oh what a lovely thing to say," so then we were all blooming crying...

Hopefully today will be dryer... Apparently there is to be some sort of concert and party in the garden. I'm not sure the weather forecast helps much with that. Perhaps it is the Grand Gargling Championship...

Yesterday's sketch was inspired by - but not of - Limone on Lake Garda.

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Physiotherapy and a Broken Back

Tuesday, 24 June 2025. I finished my last article at a point where I was still at the breakfast table so we carry on from that same day for this post.

The big news is that I managed to walk with assistance from a zimmer frame and two physio assistants, almost the full length of the corridor. I quickly lost count and the two physios lost count but Miss Franny was watching and thought it close to 30 steps. Quite an achievement after my maiden voyage of 12 steps the other day.

The Day or Garden Room continues to be my favourite eating and resting and just sitting place. I sketched it over a couple of days and you can see the result here.

Usually the same group of us meet up here daily. At lunchtime others may join us. Miss Franny was once again here over lunch and was able to see me walk the corridor. Mind you, my leg was very painful once I got to bed and kept me awake until 2.00am. A nurse came then to turn me to avoid pressure sores and I was able to get some sleep.

Thursday, 25 June 2025. It's only 6.20am but my day started early as I felt the need for a bedpan and water bottle. The bottles here are very bulky, stubby things, made of the same sort of recycled card or paper as egg boxes from the grocer.

Trying to use one at the same time as being on a bedpan is fraught with difficulty and with some horror I felt the thing start to break down. Being short and stubby (the water bottle - don't let your imagination run riot...) means it's almost impossible to hang over the side of a bedpan - a disadvantage to anyone who does No.1 before No.2 starts - and I soon felt a warm and damp sensation where I would rather only feel the same whilst washing... Plus the bottle was quite heavy by this time, just my luck to have managed to sleep through... Luckily the need for the bedpan had translated into just wind. The pan had also broken under me, spilling the already spilled water onto the bed. A very young and attractive nurse made physical discomfort a slightly embarrassing one aswell...

Well the physios gave me a rest from walking yesterday. I spent most of it in the Day/Garden Room again. The usual gang joined me, including my lively 89 year old lady and others from her ward. Every week the wards are emptied of patients and given a 'deep clean' and it was their turn yesterday. Today I think we lose one out of the four in our ward as they are going home. That sounds such a wonderful prospect after almost seven weeks in hospital.

Friday, 27 June 2025. Friday comes around again. In here, or even at home once retired it's just another day. So what happened yesterday, I hear you say...

Well one of our four in the ward went home and the bed was full of someone else when I came back from the Garden Room. Today my little old lady goes home. She said she would miss us all. In here, especially in the Garden Room, where we sit with the same group of people, you do form attachments like people struggling through some form of challenge together.

I generally sit next to a chap in the early stages of Parkinsons so I can give help if he can't quite lift his hand to his mouth or to grab a tissue to mop up any dribble. He can only talk very quietly but yesterday after I had stopped a large dribble just before it reached his pyjama top I overheard him say to the others, "he's good isn't he?" So it's nice to know I'm appreciated.

Also yesterday the physios took me down to the gym. It's not a gym for pumping iron or anything like that. It holds a mock staircase of around three or four steps up leading to a half landing with a 90 degree turn to steps leading back down again.

I'm not ready for that yet. Instead I was directed on to a set of parallel bars. Now before you have visions of me swinging my legs about over the bars to do about face or other athletic moves, all they required was that I grip the bars and walk the three metres to the other end and back three times. I did it five times.

After the first they said I was walking with my left foot splayed out. Guilty m'lud... I think there must have been a bit of penguin in my far back ancestry... After the second they asked me to lift my feet more. So with thoughts of pedalling a bike in my head I set off again.

They made me sit down and rest after the third and asked how I was. I said I was ready to do more and did another two theres and backs before they stopped me, saying that was enough.

Then they had me stand at the side of the bars. I warned them I wasn't up to doing ballerina leg swings but the next exercise simply involved raising one knee for a count of five. Easy peasy.

Thanks go to old school chum Janet and hubby Graham for bringing Miss Franny down and back again. After a short chat they went into the town to look round the shops leaving Fran with me for an hour or so. Thanks also to ex-colleague Carolyn who came to see me last night and you will like this, Flower. Someone after you had gone asked if you were my daughter... Bloody cheek!

Every now and then my memory is not up to fine details and I was having so many MRI scans during my time in hospital that I'm not sure if this happened at Blackpool or the Lytham Respite Ward. I've had a bad back since my twenties and it flares up every now and then. A couple of days after an MRI scan on my spine a doctor came to see me and said "This wasn't caused by the fall - it's an chronic (meaning long-standing, not horrendously bad) injury, but you have some broken vertebrae in your back. Vertebrae 1 and 3 are broken and vertebrae 5 is close to slipping the disc." So great - here Quasimodo, have a hump to go with that funny eye...

Cancer and Leg Ulcers Index
Family Memories: Personal Index

The Respite Ward

18 June 2025. I had moved from Blackpool's hospital to what was described to me as a "respite home". I found such a place on the map and happily told everyone where to find me. But... OMG! I have just found out that I'm in Clifton Hospital, not the Respite or Care Home. I had to hurriedly give the correct address, further on towards Lytham when travelling from Blackpool. I only found out when Miss Franny and a friend couldn't find me, having asked at the Care Home.

19 June 2025. Ok, so all confusion done with now hopefully. Clifton Hospital Ward 2 Bay D, bed on the right next to the window. We get an afternoon drink here and one of the options is strawberry milk shake! How cool is that? However, I'm on a liquid intake restriction so I set my mind firmly but it failed to inform my mouth... oh, that milkshake was good...

Well now I've had chance to suss out the place in daylight now and the ward has 6 beds. I'm by the window with a bank of earth and trees forming my horizon before the sky but probably only 30 feet away. Between that and the hospital is a flat lawn. At 4.00am a few nurses came to peer through the vertical blinds as a family of foxes comes out to play some nights.

I can't see much of the lawn, I would have to be standing at the window and parting the blinds to see, but it makes a nice mind picture. I've spoken about my surprise at the progress my legs have made over the last few days. Yesterday I stood up on the sack truck thing and sat in my chair for 5 hours with my legs down - not flat on a recliner. Very little pain and just a little bleeding. Once again more a pleasant shock than surprise. I'm on my way back folks!

20 June 2025. Very busy 2 days. Yesterday I was halfway through drawing the scene through my window when I was told I was moving to allow a very confused new patient have my space, where the view would calm him down. So intense concentration and drawing the bottom half of this which is a wild grassy bank and a smooth well kept lawn. The foxes' den is somewhere between the two trees on the right.

So I am now in Ward 2 still but Bay A - a bay with just 4 beds. One occupant just never stops talking. If he's not talking to someone else he mumbles to himself keeping up a non-stop flow, of a commentary repeating over and over.

Anyway I have discovered the delights of the communal Day Room, otherwise known as the Garden Room as it has a large expanse of windows like a conservatory that opens onto a beautiful garden with trees shading areas with tables and chairs. All the windows have decals of birds, flowers and animals.

One table has a label "Breakfast Club". Patients able to get out of bed can go and meet for breakfast. I got into my chair with some help and was pushed to a spare place at the table. We'll... there were several places free really as the only other person there was a little old lady. What a joy she was! Bright as a button all her marbles working. She was 89 and we got on famously, swapping memories of the 1950s and 60s and all sorts of things. We made a date to meet tomorrow.

The legs continue to improve. I stood up today at a Zimmer frame, something I've not used before, and (FANFARE) I walked 6 steps, paused for a rest then walked 6 more. That totally exhausted me. The Physio nurses who had hold of me all the time in case I fell, brought my chair up behind me and got me sat down and pushed the chair back into place. Cue an hour's sleep... Wakes a very chuffed man. First time walking for 5 weeks. It will get better and better.

23 June 2025. Start of week seven in hospital. Yesterday T from the bed diagonally opposite and I spent the best part of the day in the day room, relieved to be away from the relentless non-stop flow of talk from the chap opposite me.

We had a full table for breakfast as we were joined by a chap from one of the other bays and two ladies, including my cheery friend from the other day. She stood me up yesterday haha.

T and I spent most of the day in there. At times the room got very full as they were holding a craft session to keep patients occupied whilst their ward was being deep cleaned. This takes most of the day as all areas get disinfected, bedside cabinets, emptied and cleaned etc. One ward gets done every week

I'm here again now at 7.00am already. Washed, changed and enjoying the prospect of breakfast. The sun is shining but it's very windy. Sadly I have an hour to wait for brekky but I use the time to give Miss Franny a ring.

Cancer and Leg Ulcers Index
Family Memories: Personal Index