Arrived at Gwens two weeks prior to Christmas

Arrived at Gwens two weeks prior to Christmas, having closed down the site. The weather was horrendous and the daylight hours were at its shortest. The workforce had to arrive late and leave early. So value for money was reduced, but we had completed two thirds of the larch cladding and all the roof.

Gwen loved us being back, she had company and the ability to get out and about, specifically for lunch. Managed to get her out most days to new and interesting pubs that served food. 

Walking round the docks at Faversham before heading out for lunch

Heather, Gwens Carer out for Christmas lunch at the Marquis at Alkham

Gwen getting into the Christmas spirit

Confit of Duck, that was excellent and not too salty. Especially once washed down with a good pint of real ale

Gwens fish cakes at the Three Mariners at Ore. Great rustic pub with excellent food on the doorstep of the bird sanctuary

Warming starter of soup 

Oare marshes run by the Kent Wildlife trust

Sun shining, glorious views over the waters

Kings Head at Wye

Gwen enjoying her late Christmas Eve lunch

Lunch out at The Plough Inn (Stalisfield) near Faversham

Whole Brie cooked and soaked up with freshly cooked bread, Yummy

Even got out on Christmas eve for a late lunch at three that enabled us to have interesting nibbles for breakfast and brunch. 

When we returned from the restaurant we visited auntie Joyce in the home and spend some time chatting and giving her the Christmas presents for the following morning.

Sods law, when Gwen got up, she bumped into Joyce’s wheelchair and cut open her shin. Blood and fluid everywhere.

Back home the first aid kit was out and we bandaged it up. Then l  popped to the chemist and stocked up with all manner of dressings and creams.

Christmas day was quiet, but we still managed to consume volumes of food and wine. Eat chocolate, snack on nibbles and cut into the cake. And that was before 10am!

We relaxed, watched the traditional TV, dosed, changed the dressing, ate more food, felt sick, drank more and went to bed.

 

This continued, although Gwens leg was deteriorating, so we managed to get her to the doctors for a check-up. But that was complicated. Phoned and asked to make an appointment with the lady doctor, only to be told that the first appointment would be in four weeks time. Asked for any doctor, and was told that the earliest appointment would be seven days time. The receptionist did say that she could come down first thing in the morning to open surgery. Explained that was virtually impossible, as Gwen didn’t do early mornings any more.

Asked if there was a nurse available, only to be told that there was a vacancy in four days time. 
 

Explained quite forcibly the need to get the leg looked at before it turned sceptic or erupted into cellulitis. She then asked me to hold whilst she spoke to the nurse, with the result that she had a slot if l was able to get her down straight away.

The nurse was great. She took one look at the leg and said that the doctor needed to see it. I was about to fill her in with my previous conversation with reception when she disappeared and returned with a doctor.

He was very thorough and Gwen had a full examination and we came away with a fist full of prescriptions and the knowledge that a district nurse would visit daily to dress the wound.

New Years eve it was looking worse, not better. So phone 111 for assistance. A nurse phones back at 9am and tells me she will be sending a nurse round to look at it and dress it.  No sign by 4pm, so call again. Go through the same discussion and at 6pm a doctor phones back. Reiterate what has progressed during the day and he feels that a doctor is necessary.

At 8pm a very nice doctor turns up and looks at the wound and feels that it would be a waste of time of going to A&E as they were backing up with ten ambulances stacked full of emergencies. He dresses the wound, but apologises for his ineptitude. Explains that he has been on duty since 6am, and he expected to continue until after midnight.

We retire at ten, already drained and not really up to waiting to see the New Year in, but we were woken by the phone at 11.30pm. The nurse had arrived. A bit like buses. None for hours and then four turn up at the same time.