1st May 2008 - Strap-on

I took Dad for his mobile ECG appointment today. I took my own car, borrowed a wheelchair and the whole experience - although not pleasant - was much less harrowing than the previous hospital visit.

When we got back to the home Francine met up. "Hey, that you got yer strap-on then Jimmy - eh?" she screeched at Dad then over to Sal "Hey, Sal, I sed is that Jimmy wi' his strap-on, eh Sal? He'll git a lumber nae bother wi' a strap-on eh?". Sal cackled breathlessly as she tried to lift Nan into a chair "Dinnae make me laff Frankie, Uve got tae git aw these tae the shitter before lunch and Uve no hud a break. Um gaspin' oan a fag and ma feet ur killin' me. Uve no goat time fur laughin'. A strap-on. Frankie yer a scream. Hang oan there Nan, I'll go an' tell that yin tae hoosekeepin' Mags, she'll piss hersel" and she left Nan in the chair while she lumbered away to find Mags.

I tell Francine about what's to happen with the ECG machine and the diary that's to be kept to monitor what happens when in his day - to allow any fluctuations in his heart rate to be compared with what was happening in his day. She nods and "aye's" in all the right places but I can see in her eyes she's thinking it's pointless. Perhaps it is.

When I returned the following day to remove the machine, collect the diary and return them both to the hospital, the diary was empty. "Gist tell 'em Nothing of Note. He wiz neither up nor doon wi' it". No, but surely noting down when he ate, when he slept, when he toileted or was given medication might have been useful? So it was rendered pointless.