Mr Fence man came to assess the damage to the homestead - this will cost I suspect. He says a lot of things I dont understand like 7ft twobyfours - uprights versus horizontal. I assume my mentalist shit man I just need me a rabbit proof fence stance.
Then in the pm its off to see Auntie Pat in the building site that is Whiston Hospital. Mum recalls that she spent the first months of Daves life half living there.
The restaurant is shut - what a crap private place they could be making a bloody fortune selling the usual gnats pee and dinks I suspct that the shop (not run by the WRVS) has a sort of deal so they can make extra.
Robbin gets the lot of em.
Diagnosis with Auntie Pat remains unclear apparently she has had another MI so is back on coronorary care - she dont look good. Her colour aint right - she is having a transfusion via a central line - has TPN, morphine or insulin pump, a catheter a drain and a ng tube draining black bloody gunge.
She doesnt look good and mam doesnt seem to grab it - though I guess your younger sister isnt meant to go before you. Betty and John leave and we spend sometime with Pat. Mum dont like hospitals or the sick.
Sunday wake with a bad head do dinner for 7 and flake in th afternoon. Off to mums at night and a meeting in the pm.
Monday tired - but up at 8.45 working on website and chartiy stuff.
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