Muffy's autumn memorial

The summer flowers are gone, so this morning I replaced the pots on Muffy's grave with these potted begonias. They seem to be very strong and are very pretty.

We've had a terribly hot summer, with most flowers withering quickly away, and hardly a blade of green grass to be seen. But today it is raining, which is wonderful. I'm about to take myself to the movies to see Darkest Hour, the story of Winston Churchill. The other day I saw Finding your Feet, which was wonderful - sad but enjoyable.

It takes a lot to get me out of the house, but, after two weeks of being in bed with the flu, I'm making an effort.

Food for the sick

This year has not started well. First there was Muffy's death, then the night in hospital with the mysterious pain in my hand, and for the past fortnight I have been suffering from the worst flu I have ever experienced.

Philip looked after me very well, providing lovely meals, such as the one in the pic, even though I couldn't taste a thing. I mostly slept an exhausted sleep, sweated, shivered, and put up with an aching body and runny nose.

I missed out on several planned activities to celebrate my 75th birthday (on Wednesday), and am not completely better yet. Still feeling very sorry for myself.

Memories of Muffy

Last night I put together many, many photos of beloved Muffy and Philip says we'll have them made into a memorial book. She was so much a part of my life, always right there beside me - watching while I was on my laptop, playing the piano, or working on my files.

She taught me so much about love and loss. That dear little creature...

Gout - Hornsby Hospital

Can you believe it! Gout in my left hand!!!!!

On Wednesday, Pam, a dear friend from Newcastle, came down by train to spend the day with me. We started off by going to a cafe in Westfield while we worked out what we'd do for the rest of the day. She was showing me photos of her grandchildren when a severe pain suddenly grabbed my left hand, like a vice, from the wrist to the finger tips.

Within seconds, it seems, the blood drained from my face and I thought I would pass out. Pam and another kind cafe patron tried to prop my head against the wall, then both of them ran to a nearby medical centre. A doctor and nurse came running to the cafe and the first thing the doctor said was, 'Get her onto the floor.'

I was so pleased to hear that, as I was finding it next to impossible to remain upright on the chair, and just wanted to lie down and die! Somebody had called Westfield security, who in turn called the ambulance. Once they had all arrived it grew a bit crowded inside the little cafe.

All the medicos thought I was having a heart attack, as I'd had a bypass 25 years ago, and that was the most likely thing to be happening. But I kept saying, 'My left hand, my left hand. Excruciating pain.'

Eventually, after having provided a floorshow - literally - for the other patrons, I was taken to Hornsby hospital by ambulance. I cannot speak highly enough of everybody concerned. Not a single complaint do I have about our health system: it's magnificent. I was examined, then placed in a short-term care ward, where I remained overnight.

Philip came from work to take Pam to the station that afternoon, then fetched me home the following morning. Westfield made no charge for my car left in their carpark overnight.

The pain has gone but I feel pretty washed-out today. From the time I got home from hospital to this morning, I had slept more than 13 hours. Sleep seems to be my reaction to any problem.