A Funny Month
It’s been a funny old month. I usually like April – sunshine, flowers, warmth – but this year has seen little sun so far and some days have felt more like January than April, with teeming rain and low temperatures. All will improve, I’m sure.
Our littlest great-grandchild, Melia, 8 weeks old, has been found to have a hole in her heart. It’s one of the commonest conditions in babies. Sometimes the holes repair by themselves and other people live their whole lives not realising they have this condition. However, self-repair seems unlikely in Melia's case and so she will have surgery in the next couple of months. Surgery is well advanced in this field; nonetheless, the prospect of your tiny child having surgery is a sobering one. Her parents are both very positive. Melia is thriving and happy, but there must be a large element of concern and worry, so we're all crossing everything and hoping the time passes quickly and life can return to normal.
Speaking of surgery, our son-in-law Robert, who’s a bit more than 8 weeks old, had to have an operation on his shoulder on Thursday. On Friday Bethan said, with remarkable understatement, that it was ‘a bit difficult’ on Thursday evening, but he was now recovering fine at home.
A week ago, we went for a walk with Susannah and James and their two dogs. We were intent on showing James a hidden pond we had rediscovered recently and that we had taken Susannah and Martha to a few days earlier.
The ground was very rough, full of tussocks. I was busy warning everyone to be careful, as we were in ankle-turning territory, when I misstepped and twisted my knee painfully. Serves me right for being so bossy!
As I was wondering if I would be able to walk – I was still standing, so the prospects seemed favourable - the dogs, theirs and ours, were racing in and out of the water, having a wonderful time. When we judged they had had enough – for Gilbert, anyway, as he’s still only a little chap – we made our way home, personally walking slowly and very cautiously.
The next day I could hardly walk and my leg was very painful, but it is much improved now and I don’t need to use a stick any longer. Fortunately, there was nothing planned for my birthday on Tuesday – there rarely is, as I don’t much care for birthdays and don’t like fuss – so I didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything but I had a pleasant, quiet day, sitting still and taking painkillers at regular intervals.
Meanwhile, Jellicoe, the miracle cat, was coughing, as cats do from time to time. He wasn’t quite his usual noisy demanding self on Thursday morning, shaking his head and spreading his food everywhere, and not quite managing to eat it, although he was keen to try. We thought there might be something stuck in his mouth or throat so off to the vet he went, but Selene-the-Vet couldn’t see anything. That evening, he didn’t want to eat, which is always worrying with a diabetic cat.
Jellicoe had already been booked into the vets for the whole day on Friday, to have a glucose curve test, for which he required sedation, so it was decided to use the opportunity to examine him more closely. He had a loose tooth with some infection. The tooth was extracted, antibiotics administered, and lo and behold, he was back to normal, almost. His glucose levels were higher than was acceptable so his insulin dose has been increased.
Now, he is his normal ravenous self again, breaking into the bins if they’re not battened down, stealing the dogs’ food from under their noses – Roxy is tolerant, Gilbert isn’t – swiping at us if we’re eating something he fancies, which is actually most of what we have on our plates.
It’s good
to have him back!
