30) Back in hospital again. The coat the soap and the small black dog that wasn't.

 30).  29.5.26

Here's a lovely photo of Barry Island. It has nothing to do with the blog but calms me 😵‍💫.

Friday 29th May 2026 - The man (I will not refer to him as dad), has been in hospital since he fell off the bed on Wednesday (see previous post). I thought it may be nice, for him, if I went to visit.

I went straight from work to fetch Ant, and we headed for the hospital. 

We finally found him. 

'Hello,' I said, moving all his stuff so I could sit on the bedside chair. 'How're you feeling?'

'Wat! Oh it's you. Where's Ant? Is Ant with you? Where is he?'

Ant pulled up a chair. 

'Ant - is that you? Oh don't sit there I can't see you. Come closer.' The man became irritated. 'You have no idea how exhausting it is having all these visitors all day. It wears me out, it really does.' He sighed deeply. 'Whatsisname from church has been in. Oh what's his name?' he flapped his hand in the air attempting to waft the name to him.

'Arthur' I said.

'The man from the church...'

'ARTHUR.' I said

He carried on flapping his hand, faster now. 'What's the damn chap's name? Ant! What's his name - from the church?'

'Arthur' said me and Ant simultaneously.

'Arthur!' said the man, as if he'd figured it by himself. 'Yes, Arthur. That's the one. He came in to see me. Lovely man, practically runs the church. Anyway I've given him a list of three things I need. He said he'd call you later Izabelle, I said ten o'clock was a good time. Anyway, I need, a shaving adapter and... Have you got a pen?'

'I don't need a pen. I can remember...'

'Wat?  Have-you-got-a-pen?' he used his monosyllabic voice.

'I don't need a pen.'

'You don't need a pen... right! I need a shaving adapter...' he clocked the look of total numbness on my face. 'Izabelle, are you listening? I don't know if you're listening. Look why don't you write it down? Go and ask the nurses for a pen and a scrap of paper.'

'If Arthur's going to call me then I don't need a pen, do I? Just tell me, dad. I'll remember OK.'

'A shaving adapter and... a shoehorn... There. Three things - have you got that?'

'That was only two.'

'Wat? Have you written them down - the three things I need.'

At this point my mobile rang, - my daughter asking when I'd be home.

The man looked at me as I hung up. 'Was that a man about a lovely black doggy?' he said.

I looked at him, confused. 'What doggy? What man? what are you talking about?'

He became frustrated, his face turned puce and contorted. He glared at me, slammed his fist on the table and spat. 'DAMMIT! Was that about the little black poodle type dog we're getting from the dogs home? For Ant - he's going to need a dog when I'm gone dammit.' He bashed his fist on the table again and demanded, 'Well? Was it them?'

'No!' I said, and because I wasn't going to take him giving me that attitude, I asked why he thought they'd phone me anyway.

His face turned purple, his fist formed again and I'm sure he'd have hit me had I been close enough. 'BECAUSE YOU'RE MY BLOODY POWER OF ATTORNEY. THAT'S WHY!' His fist hit the bed this time and he pushed the table, tipping his water. He screamed the words with total venom at me. As he did so, he got a twinge of pain somewhere and grabbed his sides. 'You really have no idea how much it hurts when you make me shout.' 

I refuse to be spoken to like that. I told him so and got up and walked out, tears of fury running down my face. I got as far as the nurses station and stopped to wait for Ant. The nurse asked if I was ok. I wasn't and it all came tumbling out and, once again, I turned into a blubbery mess. She said she was about to take him his medication. I enquired whether she could perhaps give him extra medication... was she perhaps open to bribery? Turns out she wasn't.

Ant came running after me like a little puppy, as if I was going to leave without him. I sent him back in but said I needed time to calm down.

After a lovely chat with the nurse I decided I'd have to go back in just in case it was the last time I saw him. As I appeared, the man acted like nothing had happened. 'Ah Izabelle,' he said. I wanted to tell you my yellow coat needs fixing, it's ripped by the pocket you see, and things fall out: so when you have a minute could you take a look at it?'

'We've got to go.' I told him numbly. He reached out for a hug. He didn't get one.

*    He knows I can't go in a house where there's a dog. Due to my years living in his disgusting mess as a child, I can't tolerate dust or animals. Highly allergic, not just a sneeze or two. How he thinks I'm going to manage to deal with all the crap in the house when he's gone with a dog living there, I don't know, but then my health was never on his list of priorities.