Sunday, January 20th – Friday, January 25th 2013

During Annie’s second bout of time in hospital early in the month, a nurse whispered “Has your wife come to us from the hospice?” It was nearly midnight and they were in the process of moving Annie from one ward to another. I was tired and burdened with luggage as I followed the porter – but I smiled and replied, “Yes, she has.” The nurse frowned sorrowfully and said “Aaaah, that’s sad.” I know it was late but I had to break the whisper and the myth. “No. It’s not sad at all. It’s a really special place.” What was really sad was being in hospital – being rolled through the warren of corridors at midnight; but unlike the nurse, I exercised a little sensitivity.

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Friday, January 18th – Saturday, January 19th 2013

I don’t really know if I need the hot-chocolate I am currently in the process of warming the milk up for, but it’s a cosy routine that I am rather fond of each night I return from the hospice without my Annie. If anything, it’s a warm hourglass for the duration of this post. I’ll push the ‘Publish’ button either once I’ve taken the last sip, or the surface cools to form that nasty skin rendering it (in my opinion) undrinkable; whichever comes first!

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January 2013 – Hospital in two photos

Just in case you missed it, here’s our journal entry for the last few days.

Wednesday, January 9th – Friday, January 11th, 2013

Increasingly, each time I prepare to see Annie after some time away – be it a night or a minute – I never know in what condition I will find her. Each unit of time shares the same unpredictable rhythm, the same complex DNA. In that respect the last year is a projection of the last hour and the last hour a compression of the last year. Sometimes, life is so painfully and wonderfully, upsetting and uplifting.

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