"He's doin Canny"

It’s Duncan, here (again!)

At the end of Bulletin 3, I’d lost the casserole and James was moving to the High Dependency Unit. There’s exciting further news on both counts.

Firstly, the casserole has turned up. I went into my office in Whitehaven yesterday, got hugged quite a lot (on which more anon) and apart from concern about James, there was a good deal of interest in the Mystery of the Missing Casserole. Well, I opened a Flora tub yesterday and, lo and behold, there was the casserole. Amazing!
Your minds can be set at rest on that score. I know, I shouldn’t have got into such a stew about it.

Secondly, James. He swept through the High Dependency Unit (as my father would have said, “like a dose of salts”) in a couple of days. I was discussing his progress with an HDU nurse who said “he’s doin’ canny” an expression which I took to be Geordie approbation. Anyway, he’s done so canny that he’s now in another ward – Ward 31. He’s in his own little cubicle.

In terms of mental condition, he’s making good progress. There’s no problem with his comprehension, he answers questions with squeezes (whatever happens to be in squeezing range).

Physical stuff, he can do a thumbs up, he follows with his eyes, his physios sat him on the edge of his bed yesterday, he’s got good core strength, he gets tired fairly quickly and can’t talk unless his “trachy” is adjusted, which hasn’t been done when Penny and I have been there in the last couple of days. He is still on painkillers which make him drowsy. His arms and legs seem OK if feeble.

So in the last 13 days, we’ve progressed from a situation where, had he not been resuscitated, he would have been brain dead in a few minutes or everything dead in a few more minutes or paralysed from the neck down had there been a little more movement (a few mms probably) to having a James who is definitely alive, moving all his limbs and understanding what we say. So, result!

His eyes look a bit odd – a bit glassy – but in this respect he is also improving. As one of my colleagues kindly reassured me yesterday “he’s bound to look a bit odd with you as his father”.

We think that the medical team will keep him in Ward 31 for a week or so, resolve the trachy, swallowing/ coughing etc and then send him down to London. We are arranging a meeting with his consultant to discuss the best place. Because he’s in need of physio, brain, chest and possibly eyes, he’ll need a multi expertise place: Kings, The Royal London in Whitechapel or St George’s in Tooting have been mentioned. The Whitechapel place would be convenient for a lot of his mates.

His immediate support team (Bean, Penny, Alasdair and I) are also returning to some degree of normality. I haven’t liked to enquire too closely about the girls’ dress sizes (which to be honest, I don’t really understand. I can visualise heights, waists, hips and chests/ busts but I’m not quite clear how this all comes together in a single dress size. What size is a slender 6 foot woman or a clinically obese lass of 4’ 11?). Alasdair is also OK after a rather turgid time last week. I was told that I looked a bit haggard yesterday, which is an improvement on last week when I looked “bloody awful”.

Alasdair has now gone back to London to his flat and work. Many thanks to ABMA for their support. Bean is going to win a swimming competition in Sheffield this weekend. I’m going to London for a meeting on Monday and will return to Lorton and the office on Tuesday - I’ll come over for a few evenings in the week. Penny stays here (in charge) with support from The Poole Siblings and their esteemed spouses through to mid-next week, plus support on a day by day basis from one of my cousins and some friends of James. She’ll be staying in an absolutely sensational borrowed flat (more marvellous friends of friends).

Next weekend, Alasdair and Bean will come up and I will come over ………….unless, of course, The Boy has gone off to London! We’ll keep you posted.

Thank you all for your continued interest and support. You’ve been great – food, chocolate, flowers, cards, texts, phone calls, blog posts, emails, general supportive interest, medical interpretation and advice and hugs galore.

I’ll close on the subject of hug etiquette and my complete ignorance of this (yeah, and pretty much all else too). I hope that I haven’t inadvertently caused offence in the Hugging Department. Normally (well over the last 34 years), the hugger has been Penny and she gets kissed when she hugs me. Otherwise men get a firm handshake, women get a chaste little kiss on left and right cheeks.

In the maelstrom of emotion that has constituted life from about 1800 hours on16 October 2010 up to today, I’ve been hugged by loads of beautiful women, which triggers (per Pavlov’s dog) a kissing response, and I’ve been halfway through a manly handshake only to find myself swept into an embrace Mediterranée. One then has to untangle hands and slap each other on the back. So if you are a girl (and got kissed, sort of by mistake) or you are a bloke (and ended up with a knuckled chest), I apologise. I’m trying to do better.

With love from us all (& James)

Penny, Bean, Alasdair and Duncan