One year ago this week

On Monday 5th November 2018 my son was in hospital and had undergone planned surgery. Five days later he was so unwell that my daughter-in-law stayed with him overnight. Had it not been for her insistence that a doctor be called at 3am in the morning (despite the nurse who irritatedly said to her, “what now?”) he would not still be with us. She saved his life.

Here is a link to the post I wrote when he was, at last, coming home:

At the end of my rainbow

A year on, although he will live with the consequences of a second surgery for the rest of his life, he is very much stronger and is doing well. I have to remind myself of the positives but there are times (like this week) when the anger and the memory of that time often haunts me, particularly during those wide-awake hours in the night.




  1. I remember you posting about it, last year. I’m glad his wife was there and she insisted that a doctor was called. I am glad that you are celebrating one year of his recovery and not something else.


    • Thank you, bless. You have hit the nail on the head. Of course we should be celebrating his recovery and that is the way That I will make myself think about it. What happened, happened and we can’t change that but he is here and as well as can be expected.


    • Thank you Margaret. Yes, it was traumatic for us all. I guess it was the ‘anniversary’ that has made me feel so low this week.


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