In brief.

The respite was short. One night in the hospital, 1.5 litres of “fluid” the colour of a gold beer taken from the pleural sac and two antibiotics to take. The first night out he slept like a baby, last night he managed six hours, which is good, except at 5 o’clock this morning his coughing woke me, he was then hungry, and he wanted a coffee, and then at 6 the granddaughter could be heard saying she was hungry (she slept here as her mom was out on her works Christmas do.)

So by half past six, I was up, I had made sausage sandwiches for the pair and on retrieving the plate, Mike was back asleep. He didn’t reawaken until nine.

I’m exhausted.

Merry Christmas everyone.