Day +6: Late Edition

Nikki writes:

So while the rest of the world proletised about the new President turning the tide of history, Rory remained becalmed in the strange world at the top of The Tower. It's starting to feel almost fable-like, (fabulous isn't the word). He really did feel adrift today I think. I couldn't visit because I was unwell this morning and couldn't take the risk, and he tells me that he hasn't turned the computer on all day. So this is his message in a bottle.....

The sickness has improved if not entirely dissipated, but the two drugs doing all the business are heavily sedative, to the point that today he'd slept for so long that they actually lifted his eye-lid and shone a torch in his eye! Not the most flattering gesture ever made. The drugs are also anti-psychotics so at they are at least determined to send him home sane. Then there was the visit by the palliative care team, no more endearing, but it was simply to see if they had any tricks up their sleeve when it comes to controlling the vomiting.... they hadn't.

And now, as "Happy Matt" the Kiwi registrar put it, "it's unfortunate" that not only has the top half of his gut suffered, but now "the bottom half's gone as well". We call him Happy Matt because he's the man who has to remind you of all that can go wrong before they do anything. He seems almost embarassed about this and so erms and mutters making it seem to go on and on. Still as you can see, at least he's mastered the art of English understatement.

The dietician has also been in today, again ostensibly to make suggestions but I sense Rory's not impressed. Nevertheless he's managed a couple of spoonfuls this evening.

And so when in future years our grandchildren ask, where were you when the first black President of the United States was inaugurated? Rory will be able to read this and tell them.