I've had a shower, dh has been amazing, emptying catheter bags, repositioning me every four hours, bringing me drinks, pain meds, food and heroically helping with bowel irrigation. He is absolutely run ragged but he's my hero.
District nurse has just been and unfortunately I've spiked a fever and my bp has gone awol again 89/42, the district nurse explained that my obs are scoring me high for a possible infection, fortunately my stats are 92% she went back to the surgery to get the duty GP to come and see me. She's just phoned to say that the duty GP is the same GP who way back in September 2009 failed to speak to the spinal unit or phone for an ambulance when there were very clear indications that they should. So the GP advice was to take my temperature again in four hours time and if it was still high to phone 111 for advice. The district nurse said she was surprised that the GP wasn't coming out to see me and me (I'm not) and that she wasn't very happy. She has phoned HDU to let them know too.
The most difficult thing remains bowel irrigation, it's so so painful and because it's something, until now I've managed completely independently I'm finding needing help from dh totally humiliating. He doesn't have a problem with any of it but I certainly do and I'm hating it right now. It makes me want to never eat again. It's also making me really fucking angry with the aforementioned GP because if they'd done their job properly in 2009 I'd still be able to have a shit unaided, now they're too yellow bellied to come and do a home visit when I'm possibly suffering from a post op infection. Surely they must have thought "this lady has been through enough, some of it my fault so I better go and see her just in case. Unusually for me it's really stirred up feelings of anger and hatred and right now I don't want to reach for the red box I want to inflict real pain on them.
There are Christmas smells coming from the kitchen and the huge dose of oramorph I took earlier is starting to kick in.