I often feel guilty about the weight of responsibility and sheer work and stress she gets through when he's ill. I try to do as much as I can, but the reality is she's better at it than me and certainly knows more, (she has a medical background and inevitably did more of his care when I was at work) so I tend to follow her instructions. He was ill enough this time for our daughter to travel back urgently - whatever she thinks, her support was very welcome and helped us a lot.
So, we're back home, though he's not well yet. And the next set of issues kick in - staff shortages (holidays and illness) mean we're missing nursing shifts and also don't know if the nurses will be allowed to work at our house until he's well enough to move - we may be back unsupported until he's well again. The iller he tends to be, the more problems this gives the support services - so the more we have to pick up at the hardest times. We will survive this - we just won't know how until afterwards.
I'm very conscious that there were a raft of what others will see as horror stories during our stay in hospital, and will spell them out once the dust has settled. For the moment, I'm just grateful we got through this admission with a son.