Tuesday turn off my head and hold my heart

Tuesday morning came and with it the knowledge that my ladies were going for a holiday and I was going for more drugs.

Wendy and the girls were going to the wonderful world of Wales, Wend for a week and the girls for much of the summer holidays, oh and Bertie too! I wanted Wendy to have a break from me and hospital visits and the girls needed to have a proper holiday and time away from the stress of visits and appointments and me not being capable of driving them places or playing with them.

Some people have said it's selfless of me but they have lives too and I want them to live them. I would be in hospital for at least six days and when I'm there I'm looked after and fed and hey what more can you want!

So as with all aspects of our life we'd planned how the departure would work, Dad was coming over to take Wendy and the girls to Brian and Eve's outside of Shrewsbury from where Anita would pick them up. Brian and Eve are just two of the nicest people you could meet and put on a lovely meal for everyone and put up with Bertie being a bit bonkers! Thank you.

Mum came over at the same time to take me up to Weston park so that we all left the house at the same time and there was maximum distraction for everyone. It worked to a point, it hurt like someone ripping part of me off seeing my ladies crying and looking back at me in the car waving. It was the last time I'd hold Wendy for a week and it felt like the better part of me had gone, I felt incomplete, something instantly missing. But I had a job to do so my logical head kicked in, as it sometimes does and it was off to Weston for me and my broken body.

Using the Hickman line was so easy it all became clear why I'd had it fitted. The nursing staff took the covers off the lines and then once they had flushed through using a saline solution they hooked me up to a drip and away it goes, treatment in one easy and hygienic step.

So this is what it'll be like for the next 6 or 7 days? drip in arms free from cannulars, no sensation of the drug going in except for the injection of anti hystemene which almost instantly sends me to sleep. Mum stayed with me for some of the first set of treatment, it's an awkward time for both patient and visitor as depending on how the treatment goes has a great bearing on the conversation! Mum as always was great though, spending a bit of time with me then going and coming back later as I went up to ward three.

Next to the window is superb, my bed for the week, in a room with three other blokes. Much better than the side rooms where all my demons came to rest and my head span from wall to wall. Being in a room with other does mean you get disturbed, snoring and farting and general life noises at night but also there's four drip pumps going all the time and when they are empty or have a problem they bing bong. I still hear it now I'm home bing bonging in my head as I fall asleep. Then there's the unavoidable fact that sometimes someone is a great deal more ill than you are. Yes it made me feel lucky last time I was in but this time all I could feel was the families pain and suffering as they were told the worst news. But then I saw humility and love, the true kind the kind that doesn't have any strings attached just the tenderest kiss on the head of someone suffering so badly. The kiss of a wife who knows her husband is not long for the world. The son holding his dad's hands and wiping his eyes and trying to smile as family gather to offer support and possibly say their own goodbyes.

Selfishly I thought of my ladies and how I hope that they never have to go through that. I don't want to die, I have too much to live for but I don't want Wendy or the girls to suffer the sadness. Nor do I want mum and dad to lose a son, nor Viv a brother and so the list goes on. I don't want to cause pain and suffering, I've worked hard in my life to live causing as little pain as possible believe it or not. I'm not perfect, never been perfect and don't ever want to be but I don't want to put people through it now or ever. Not going to live for ever either but when I'm old and cantankerous it'll be easier for people to say goodbye.

Wow that got a bit deep, for me anyway! To lighten the mood and the mental load I had plenty of visits from friends and family even Jill came to see me and last time she visited a friend she ended up on his bed, not like that! Just because she'd fainted and slid down the wall so I felt honoured. I also had my phone which I could text of talk to Wendy with which was good but not the real thing.

I spoke to the girls every day and although it was incredibly hard to say goodbye every time it was a little lift hearing that they'd been to the beach or that Bertie was misbehaving or that they were having a great time in the garden. Yes they got upset now and again but there's nothing wrong with emotion and I never want to stop them sharing them, that wouldn't be fair. Wendy sounded great, like she was having a bit of time and a bit of fun, she has put so much into supporting me that I wanted her to have some me time, swimming in the sea with the girls and playing and being a fabulous mum.

The week went ok treatment wise, I saw my consultant and we talked about our dogs! My head blew a couple of times but there was no big sobbing this time which was easier for the nursing staff. My knees and face swelled up, possibly due to the amount of liquid going in and less coming out. Measuring wee became part of my daily routine, every time I went I took my jug and recorded the passing. I set a new record too 1150ml's in one go, which I was chuffed about apart from the fact that the jug only holds a litre! I don't get out much so things like this become interesting to me! Why my bladder seemed to work overtime at night I have no idea, when I was awake I may go four times but one night I went six times between 11pm and 6am, great!

Slowly slowly the week managed to drag itself along and then even more slowly it turned from Friday and me saying I'll see you tomorrow, into Saturday with the selfish prospect of Wendy coming home. I didn't sleep much that night, regardless of my bladders idiosyncrasy every fibre of my beaten up and swollen up body was aching for the return of my beautiful wife.