scarlatti's missing me. She's missing being online. She doesn't like hospital life. She's still weak, still can't move around much.
No endoscopy today, for reasons which weren't made clear to me. So we don't know for certain yet if she's bleeding from stomach ulcers (or similar) or not.
Someone from Haematology is doing tests. Again, it wasn't clear what they're testing for.
Wibble born of ignorance:
It's frustrating -- if I was there, I could ask someone, someone who actually knew and could explain to me properly what's going on.
scarlatti doesn't have the knowledge of anatomy, physiology and biochemistry that I do. She's not in the right sort of condition to demand and retain the sort of information that I was accustomed to handling when Anne was in hospital. I cope better when I know what's going on, and at the moment I don't have access to that, and it's frustrating -- distressingly frustrating, at that. During Anne's last stay in hospital, I was routinely reading test results over the nurses shoulder as they came into the computer from the lab. I was as well informed about her condition as it was possible to be. I knew what the prognosis was before they approached me to give me The Next Of Kin Talk.
And now I don't know. I'm not informed. I can't tell. And it's hard. I can't cope.
Insufficient data. I wish I knew how to swear properly ...