So Paul's catheter, drains and epidural have been removed.. even the fabulous "magic button" pain relief blaster.

Uh-ohh.

It's "cold turkey day" today.

They managed to dose him up sufficiently last night so he got a good sleep. He was absolutely fine this morning then was violently sick and in agony from the retching.

AWFUL to observe.

Poor, poor Paul.

Prof came to the rescue blaming the morphine and large volumes of water he'd been glugging for his demise.

An antisickness injection was given and now he's sleeping soundly.

Good news is Prof thinks he'll be out Tuesday or Wednesday, as making good progress (even though today feels a bit rubbish)

Odd thoughts keep coming into my head. Is this what it's going to be like??..and as fast as they come, I try and bat them away...it's not about me..I'm just worried about Paul's quality of life going forward..

He is strong and I have more faith in my husband to recover and beat this HORRIBLE meso more than ever. Even when he's weak, I know he's a champion.

He is totally sedated right now but wakes up fretful wondering what is going on..and it's obvious he's not himself. The junior nurse has to get intensive care up to figure out why he has been sleeping for 5 hours..

Balance seems to be the aim of the day - both chemically and emotionally..

It's horrible when he wakes up all upset due to pain and not being able to wake up properly...

I left him once he was lucid, comfortable and had come-to, and I was convinced he was okay.

Came back to my mother in law at 11.30pm who asked if it was wise for me not to have seen Cam today. She was concerned he hadn't had much time with me (understandably worried), but I don't think she understood the sheer hell of today (& Cam had an action packed day of party and then golf range with his mate Artie*. I'd facetimed him at 6pm and he was great - more interested in playfights with gramps than talking to me).

Promptly went to bed.

*Childcare thanks to legends Chloe and James Thompson..