Day 12: into the bowels...

I've noticed that dad's mood varies a lot with the state of his bowels. If he's managed to go to the loo then all is well with the world. If not, it's like a black cloud spoiling the whole day. The curse of regularity methinks.

So when I visited dad this morning, he was not in a happy mood. At the hospital, they were giving him Movicol which can have quite a violent effect on the bowels. Dad's frightened that if he takes it, he'll have to rush to the loo and may not get there in time. At the moment, he needs two hefty nurses supporting him with a belt to move around and the chances of them being available when he wants are not high.

A quietly spoken Pakistani female doctor came over and softly asked my dad: "Have you opened your bowels today?" I prompted her to speak louder for Dad's deafness. She repeated the question slightly louder, but dad was still not getting it. Finally, she shouted, "Have you done a poo today?" Dad was prescribed the more gentler senna for his constipation.

In the afternoon, we wheeled dad down into the bowels of the hospital. As part of the thigh stockings 'experiment' (or 'survey' as they like to call it), dad gets 2 leg scans done to check for clots. In the dimly lighted ultrascan room, cold gel was put on dad's leg and an instrument resembling a shaver was pressed quite hard against his skin. On the screen a grainy black and white image appeared which I could not make head or tail of. A splash of colour was added and alternate pulses of red and blue flashed up - I guess the ebb and flow of blood through the vessels.

Anyhow, pleased to report dad had the all clear. He's now begun to memorise telephone numbers to keep his mind busy - yep, it can get pretty boring in the hospital.