Well, it’s been a year. In terms of the usual metrics I would apply I have done little or nothing but my partner breaking her ankle and leg badly in early February meant I had to take on a carer’s role for Di, be our dog’s main person and carry on working, albeit the latter largely part-time. For three months pretty much all my energy went into these roles to the exclusion of my regular activities.
As Di started to regain some mobility and independence in late May/early June I took on a couple of organised events, the Quarry Bank Mill trail 10km solo and the Llanberis Swimrun as a team with my friend Britta. I also managed a couple of outings on the paddle board, expecting to be right back on the L plates again but surprisingly proficiently, and did the first of two long solo badger vaccination rounds. I was however still driving rather than cycling to work to help Di focus on her rehhabilitation exercises rather than trying to do too much of the dog walking that she so wanted to get back to.
Missing the sea, in early July we headed off to St Bees for a long weekend, our first time away since Di had been confined to a wheel chair during a pre-planned trip to Anglesey. Di was increasingly ill and we returned home early. Two nights later Di had a heart attack.
It is not a night I want to remember or replay, though my head wouldn’t always play ball during the long nights while Di was in hospital. After phoning 111 and being told not to wait for an ambulance but to get her to the hospital anyhow I could, I got her downstairs and to the car, notwithstanding her collapsing wiith her pupils rolling back in her head and only the white showing several times; the first time I really thought she had gone and dragged her down the last few steps to get her flat enough to start CPR. Each time she woke up and asked what I was making such a fuss about, and why she was on the floor – again.
The rest of the night was a blur. Superb care from the emergency team in the cardiac unit, Di collapsing while she was hookedd up to telemetry showing her heart rate at 180bpm – faster than I can get mine even running these days I couldn’t help note – while she was unconscious. ‘You had us worried there, Di,’ said one of the four members of the medical team round her with all the resources to hand as she again recovered.
After twelve days Di was allowed home on drugs to conttinue treatment for an internal bleed that prevented consideration of the range of operations that would usually have been deployed post-heart attack. We continue to wait for a full decision on further treatments, relieved life seems to be returning to some version of normal but always aware that that things could go horribly wrong in a moment (I guess they always could but never has it beeen so obvious).
We have just returned from a deliberately relaxed trip to Anglesey.