A False Dawn

Today we learnt that Dad is to stay in hospital until after the weekend, dashing all our hopes for him to come home. The permanent drain valve still hasn't arrived, and until it does he must remain on suction, attached to the wall of the ward via a tube and a yellow gauge. Once he has been fitted with the permanent drain and replaceable bag, he will have to have physiotherapy to get him walking again after his enforced inactivity in just his chair and bed for what will be nearly two weeks. The dietician has decreed that one of Dad's daily meals must be replaced with a drink which contains vital nutrients and calories, which should help him to feel a bit stronger and regain some of the weight he has lost while in hospital. He has at least had the cannula removed which had remained in his arm after the course of antibiotics had finished, so that is a bit more comfortable for him. His morale is low again today after yesterday's false dawn, and he looked quite emotional at times today. He is obviously terribly unhappy, which distresses Mum and me. Driving home in the dark after this afternoon's visit, I cried silent tears so that Mum wouldn't see how upset I was. I feel isolated here in Essex, where I have no friends of my own to help keep my spirits up.

The flowers in the photo are in a bouquet my sister brought for Mum yesterday.