The 'net has become 'mittent

Called Sky, and the nice Indian scriptbot lady helped me isolate the problem to the phone socket in my workroom (which I connected myself and therefore counts as Nyrond tech, so that explains that). I have moved the router downstairs and will therefore need to dongle my two computers (one bought just pre-wireless and the other not doing it for some unexplained reason), but this laptop and the Countess's desktop should work fine.

Off to the hospital today. Wish us luck.

Home alone

I left her at about eight tonight, before they kicked me out. She was being brave, mostly for my benefit I think, but I know that having things done to her eyes is something she's always been scared of. She has her Daisy player and five talking books, which hopefully will get her through the night.

The op will be tomorrow morning, and I shall be able to get in to see her again at two, though she may not be awake. If all goes well I should be bringing her home Saturday.

I can't go into details about what they're doing, and I don't imagine anyone would really want me to, but the analogy the consultant used was getting chewing gum off tissue paper without tearing it.

Those of you who are so inclined may want to offer up a quick prayer to Saint Lucy, or whomever you feel might help. I don't have anyone to pray to, and quite frankly right now I wish I did.

I'm going to have something to eat and immerse myself in a Dornford Yates. I'll post again when I know what's happening.

Many on my flist are in similar situations with regard to relatives, or undergoing treatment themselves. I wish you all the best possible treatment and a swift recovery, and lots and lots of love.

Oh, and many happy returns to fleetfootmike!