As One Door Closes ...

Like I said in yesterday’s blog, when such things were allowed or advisable, we used to spend the few days between New Year and the start of the school term visiting my sister in North London, staying in a hotel on Muswell Hill. 

In 2019 we took ourselves down to meet the Greatniece for the first time, to see the Niece and Bigsister and to give me an opportunity to spend some time with my friend Paula.  Our first full day in London was spent on the River and public transport, whilst Paula and I texted each other about my visiting her in hospital.

The next day, even though I’m perfectly capable of finding my way around London, the boys insisted on accompanying me to the gates of Kingston Hospital.  They spent the rest of the day on an expedition around the London transport system.  We were to meet up again at Bigsister’s house.

At that stage the medics hadn’t yet got Paula’s pain relief properly under control and she was very restless.  Her swollen liver meant she could no longer bear the back brace she needed to stand unaided, nor sit comfortably.  A nasogastric tube was removing some brown stuff from her stomach, so at least nausea was being kept at bay, but it meant drinking was difficult (having witnessed Phil’s last days I was saddened, but not horrified).  Even so we still chatted and gossiped and laughed a little.

 

When I left I wondered whether that was the last time we’d see each other. 

As it turned out Paula lasted until the Coven could meet around her bedside in mid-February.   By then they had her pain relief fully controlled and it was a much happier, 

if final, visit before she left us in early March.

That afternoon, however, I had a sombre bus ride to the Northern Line, and dark walk through the park to Bigsister’s.

Thunderthighs opened the front door for me with a surprisingly soft and gentle look on his face.

“She’s lovely” he said.

And then I met the newest member of our family.