Funny couple of days.

Apologies for abscence for the past couple of days. It's been manic here with me feeling like I'd been driven over by a steam roller which didn't help.

Hubby came on with pains that meant he struggled to move. When he did move he couldn't breath. A lovely nurse came out just after midnight to see how he was and wanted him to go to hospital. He refused - no suprise there then. She gave him an injection of painkillers - which always makes me laugh because he hates injections. I told her to take a run at him like she was weilding a javelin but she took pity on him and was very gentle lol. The painkiller didn't kill any pain and when she rang just after three to see how he was doing she got the doctor to ring me. The doctor wanted him in hospital - again he refused, still no suprise there.

My doctor rang at 8am to see how he was doing and gave him an appointment at the surgery. We went. He then went to hospital. His friend took him because I couldn't guarantee being home in time for the girlies. Apparently they gave the staff a hard time by trying to convince the young nurse that it was the friend who was the patient and not him. Also, and I'm not sure how, but they managed to convince said nurse that his name was George. It is not. It turns out that the problem was not a clot on his lung, or a leak from a tear on his lung but a major sprained muscle behind his ribs. I would imagine that the nurse, and rest of the staff put out the flags when he left to come home. What amazed me was when they asked him if he had any other ailments and his response was "dementia" the doctor turned around and said "you can't have that, you're too young". Read his notes then...

He's been the Captain of misery since being home. He's in so much pain and then being nice to everyone else means that he has to be grumpy to someone, and that someone is me. I've been told that I'm not worthy of a suitcase - in any case the suitcase is in the loft and he's in too much pain to go up there to retrieve it, and that I can pack my clothes and belongings into plastic bags. I've been told that I don't care about him, blah, blah, blah, but in the next breath I'm being asked to make him a coffee. He hates me, but loves me at the same time.

Littley and Middley have gone to my dad's for their holiday (Biggey goes on Monday after her Armed Forces Day service on Sunday morning) and I must admit this is a Godsend because I can give all my attention to him rather than split it. He likes to have all the attention and it's a constant fight when he thinks he's not getting enough.

The start to the summer holidays have been uppy/downy but at least he's well and only making his mouth go - I'd be more concerned if he was "cue"uiet because then I'd really know something was wrong lol. xx