Tuesday, January 12, 2010

'Twas the night before Christmas...

I had completed my diaysis treatment for the day and was in a taxi on my way to my support workers home where I had been invited to stay the night. The caring lady, by name of Roberta, thought I may like to share Christmas morning with her family by getting up early and watching her three young children open up the goodies Santa had brought them.

Upon arriving and being welcomed at her home, I settled in to watch a bit of TV with them. Dialysis treatment always leaves me feeling tired and today was no exception, but now there was a different feeling... I was shivering with cold and my whole body had the shakes! After a few minutes I had to ask my friends to excuse me as I felt I must go to bed straight away.

The next thing I knew I was awake in a darkened room, in a strange bed with rails all around me! Was I in prison? No, I felt the rails and realised that they were part of the bed and it began to dawn on me where I was... in my support workers home!

Apparently I had 'blacked out' from the time I asked to go to bed and, somehow, Roberta had managed to get my lifeless body out of my wheelchair and into bed for the night.

After a few hours of intermittent sleep, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet... Roberta's children had woken up and were eager to open their presents. They had been told they must wait until I was out of bed and ready to watch the excitement.

Having been up several times during the night to check on my condition, Roberta dragged herself out of bed and came into my room and - finding I was more or less back to 'normal' - popped me back in my chair and prepared me to face Christmas Day 2009.

Presents were opened, breakfast was consumed, Roberta's family and friends began to arrive to celebrate the day with her and I was happy to be part of the gathering.

At lunchtime, I left Roberta's and caught another taxi to the home of my daughter, Leanne's, where she, her husband Craig and their boys - my grandsons - Jack, Ryan and Harry, had arranged for me to share a Christmas meal with them and their friends.

Feeling extremely tired - and full of good food - after all this activity, I arrived back home on the late afternoon of Christmas Day. Bed time that night brought back the 'shakes' and another mini-blackout!

The following morning, Boxing Day, brought a visit from the district nurse who took one look at my swollen left leg and immediately ordered an ambulance to take me to Hospital, where I was diagnosed with severe cellulitis.

Thus began 18 days of pain, needles, anti-biotics, sleepless nights, tears and mixed emotions, ending two days ago when I returned home to the care of my team of support workers. I still have to take things easy and only get up for limited amounts of time each day... but it beats being in hospital!

And so, it was a very different Christmas for me this year. My sincere apologies to those of you who didn't receive a greeting from me and the many whose emails went unanswered - I had just under 900 emails waiting for me to open when I got home (most of them were spam, of course).

Thanks a million to those of you who sent me Christmas greetings and to those who contacted me in hospital... you are all precious gems and very special to me. A special mention here to my brother Geoff and his wife Meryl, who visited me in hospital on several occasions, to friends Ron Nancarrow, Vera & Geoff Higgs and Kaye Butler who also visited, also to my daughter Leanne for her daily phone calls... and, of course, to Roberta and the others in my support team.

Now, to a necessarily slow recuperation. It will take some time until I return to the 'old me', but I'll get there. My regular radio programmes, darts and other activities may have to take a back seat for a little while, but WATCH THIS SPACE!