Time passed all too quickly.

Our five ladies arrived in two cars on Wednesday afternoon. They had left in the early hours and persuaded the 'tunnel keepers' to let them board an earlier train (9.20 instead of 10.30) so that they reached us about 3 0'clock, absolutely worn out. Elaine and her 82 year old mum had driven non-stop, apart from the trip through the tunnel, so they were pleased to have a little nap after some light refreshments.

Thursday was the day for Elaine to see her French specialist while Bear took the others on one of his sightseeing tours. Dr C has seen her for the past four years and has been far more helpful than the BUPA  doctor who gave her 5 years to live in 1997.

He had all the time in the world, did tests, took X rays and explained at length that, basically, she was stable, and provided she avoided infections she ought to stay that way. He offered advice for when she does have a 'crisis' and although he cannot promise a cure he is always encouraging. He told us he would never tell anyone they had just a few months or years to live as one can never be sure of these things. One of his patients developed lung cancer and he felt that perhaps he might only live about eighteen months but he remained optimistic - it's too easy to make mistakes in giving a prognosis like that.  He continued treating him and he's still alive after eight years.

Elaine was in a very happy mood when we left his surgery and we went home to celebrate with a bottle of champagne.

On Friday we went to the caves at Han-sur-Lesse. There are nearly 500 steps (not all at once) and two kilometres of pathways so Elaine's mum and the Bear decided not to try it. However, Bear missed the shortcut back to the village and they both walked miles along the railway track to meet us at the exit.

We enjoyed the services of a charming guide by the name of Stefan. As we were the only English visitors he asked us to stay at the front of his group of Dutch speakers and so we were able to ask him questions as we went along.

Some of the galleries were flooded thanks to the unseasonal rainfall so there was no 'son et lumiere' but there was still plenty to enjoy. I hadn't realised that without water the stalacmites and stalactites would die but he showed us a column that was now dead.

He explained that trout passed through the caves via the river but that it was too dark for them to take up residence. However, there were plenty of rats, spiders, bats and other 'wildlife' in the unvisited sections.

That evening we went to one of the 'posher' restaurants in town where the 'girls' treated Bear and me to a wonderful meal.

The Bear spent Saturday in bed, only getting up in time for the evening meal but the rest of us went shopping - or rather, I sat in a café with a cold drink while the others did the rounds of the clothes and perfume shops.

We managed to avoid any major arguments while our guests were here but they are all aware of the difiiculties and couldn't help picking up the bad vibes.

Let's hope it didn't spoil their holiday but, here, it's business as usual - back to everyday life with Bear and Whale.

There hasn't been much time to keep up with blogging but I must share this little story.

On Wednesday we had a cooking session and prepared meals for two days; chicken and mirabelle tagine for the first evening and a fish pie for Thursday.

Fish pie is one of Whale's favourites but after he complained about the salmon mousse starter that CC had made for Wednesday one of our guests mischievously announced that Jay had made the fish pie. She waited until everyone had pronounced it good and had second helpings and then said to me,

"Jay did a good job with the fish pie didn't he?"

Bear looked up quickly and then came out with,

"I knew there was something wrong with it. He put too many herbs in it and it was too wet."

Elaine had to leave the table to have a good laugh. She went upstairs to tell CC and Jay and they creased up too.

7.10: nurse's arrival wakes me. Oops, forgot to stock the toilet with loo rolls last night and it's Normacol day so totter down to cupboard and put three spare rolls on holder.

7.15: let cats out,  feed them and clean out litter tray.

7.20; do a mile on exercise bike.

7.30: shower and dress

7.45: make tea/coffee and distribute to people in bed. Whale (having emerged from toilet) informs me that Holly has been sick on the bed.

7.50: clean loo and change Whale's bed sheets etc.

8.10: decide it's a good time to wash his hair. (This is a trick the nurse taught me for washing his hair while he's in his wheelchair: slit a dustbinbag halfway down one side and drape round neck on top of a towel. You can then shampoo and rinse using one jugful of water and catching it in the binbag. My problem is disposing of said water without spilling it all over the floor - but I am clumsy sometimes.

8.20: put washing machine on and check on Bear. He's looking a bit miserable. I ask what's wrong and this leads to another 'hate' session directed against everyone else. The main cause seems to be that I said I wouldn't have time to go into town for lunch today because we're getting ready for visitors tomorrow - five friends from Norfolk. Row ends with Bear threatening (or is it a promise?) that he'll ask if he can go back with them because he can't stand it here.

8.55 Whale reminds me he hasn't been fed yet so give him his breakfast and take Bear a second cup of coffee

9.00 check emails and find that a message from one of the friends due to arrive tomorrow is being blocked because of a virus. Try to phone her but no reply.

9.15: settle down to write this post despite having a million and one more pressing things to do.

Of course it was all my fault.

Bear has been complaining that he couldn't sleep because his legs were itching. He rummaged through the first aid cupboard and tried various potions but nothing eased it so, last night I suggested he try an antihistamine tablet.

This morning I left him snoring until late as usual but when I took him his coffee he said he felt dreadful and it was all due to that tablet I gave him.

I looked up the side effects on the notice.

"Headache, nausea, dizziness and drowziness" I translated.

"Yes, I've got all of those," he moaned.

He drank his coffee and went back to sleep, snoring loudly most of the morning.

Just before midday, when the noise stopped I went into the bedroom.

"How are you feeling now? Is there anything you fancy to drink - or eat?"

He thought it over and then said he'd like some cereal.

"Should I bring everything on a tray so you can help yourself?"

He fell back on the pillow, holding his head.

"No, you do it. You know how much milk I like - just enough to make the rice krispies rise."

So, back I went with the bowl of cereal and a glass of fruit juice.

"Oh, I don't like that sort of bowl. And where's my banana?"

'Well, he can't be feeling that bad' I thought as I trouped back to the kitchen to get his banana and a knife.

CC made fishcakes for lunch and when we had finished and cleared away I went to see how the invalid was faring.

"That was funny fruit juice. What was it?" was his greeting.

"It was a mixture - multivitamin juice."

"Well, it didn't taste of anything." he grumbled.

"Do you fancy anything else to eat or drink?"

"I'll have a coffee, something with a bit of flavour, and is there any fresh bread?"

So he had thickly buttered baguette for his lunch, followed by a nectarine, neatly quartered.

He got up about three and watched television until it was time for an 'hachis parmentier' (cottage pie) from the freezer (as he wouldn't eat salad like the rest of us) served on a tray in front of the box.

The side effects of one little antihistamine pill were certainly far reaching.

Today is one of those days when both the Bear and the Whale are driving me to distraction.

Let's start with Bear. He has appeared to be in a better mood lately but he was, in fact, brewing up another explosion. We went into town to find him some socks and a top-up for his mobile.