Wednesday 11th October 2017

Whatever happens, I am going back to Kent this weekend. I hope that when Mum is transferred, her friends will take up the slack with visiting duties, so I won’t have to come back, and I can pick up my old life, working from home and all that stuff. If not, then I will have to return next week. I know that it is a very real possibility.

The doctors do their rounds at nine in the morning, anyway, they have sad since Saturday that Mum can be transferred, and with day by day, fewer and fewer leads and pipes and lies are attached to her, so that is not a reason for her still being in Papworth.

No, the reason is that she is not now an urgent case, so has to wait in line for a bed. And anyone who is in a more serious condition jumps ahead. Just the way it is, really. I call the hospital at nine, hoping to find that I would not have to drive to Papworth; the nurse said there is no news, but not to travel until she calls back.

So I wait.

At midday, I call and am told by the same person that at nine there was no chance Mum would be moved that day, as there had been no confirmation from the admission’s clerk at James Paget. Meaning I would have to leave for Cambridge ASAP to get to the hospital in time.

I swore under my breath as I pulled my shoes on, and went to the car.

Trees were showing yet more gold and reds as the seasons turn, but on the road I got stuck in lines of traffic as tractors and trailers made their way from farm to field. There was no way past them, as the line of traffic was too long.

I arrive just before three, Mum is bored. And I have no real new news for her from what I said the days before. I say again that she needs to think seriously whether she can live in the house any more, as she pays various people £60 a week just to do the basic stuff like clean and do the garden; her neighbours take out the bins, whilst she sits and smokes. Or did.

After an hour I leave again, to get on the road and though Cambridge before the rush hour really starts. I just put my foot down to get past the slower traffic, and end up back at Bury in an hour, then from there it should have been 90 minutes from there, if there hadn’t have been any farm traffic.

With tractors and the fading light, getting any kind of speed up was impossible, meaning I got back home at half six with darkness having already fallen. Another day in paradise having almost passed by. I find some things in the freezer to have for dinner, and cook some jacket potatoes for supper too.

I call Jools and we discuss stuff to do at the weekend, and say that with Mum still in Papworth, and if she was still there Friday afternoon I would have to return after the weekend.