Dreaming

 I give thanks for my wondrous dreams, so full of detailed sensual pleasures. It was a shock when I awoke this morning to see the hospital curtain beside the bed instead of the Mediterranean island I was exploring, and the beep of call bells or drip machines instead of the live music I was enjoying at a wooden tabled Ramblas bar. 

For the young housekeeper singing the Everly Brothers' Dream as he swept around my bed. It's one of my all time favourites and we sang a few bars together in harmony. What a treat!

For trying to be understanding and patient when other patients, staff or the faults in the system begin to infuriate me, or when doctors and specialist nurses treat me with excessive delicacy regarding oncological matters, as if I might not have noticed or be in denial about the cancer. For the very vocal and demanding lady across the way who helps me to remember by not naturally being so inclined!

For a few chunks of tinned pineapple Charlotte  brought in going down like  a dream yesterday. I must see if I can get someone to bring a little food box with some more so seconds can be saved in the fridge.

For accepting a nasal feeding tube to try to build me up, and the  irony of going through the horrible process of insertion only to have to wait for hours for them to find a pump to administer the nutrition. See above...