Monday, November 28, 2011

I'm sure that one day I'll look back and laugh...

‘I’ll try and get up now.’


The nurse proffered her shoulder as support.

‘Hey, it’s handy me being this teeny isn’t it.’

I didn’t answer that and made my way back on to the undersized stretcher/trolley.

The doctor reappeared.

‘He just got up on his own,’ explained the nurse and disappeared.

The doctor told me to stay put until I felt truly able to walk and then he left. I stayed put on the undersized stretcher/trolley for another hour or so. I then felt as though I had rallied. There was no sign of anyone coming back to monitor me, so I thought I’d get dressed and head for the taxi rank.
I slowly stood and peeked out into the corridor. I could see the reception desk staff and could hear them chatting about the expense of the extras in the new Mini Cooper. My faculties seemed to be in order. My nurse looked across.

‘Just thought I’d stand up and get ready,’ I said.

‘Right you are.’ She smiled her kindly smile and continued her conversation, which had moved on to woefully inadequate boot size.

When I came to on the corridor floor, what can only be described as a crowd had gathered around me. Many faces peered down at me - some with kindly smiles (staff), others without (passing patients).

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous11:55 am

    I see you've been enjoying one of the rites of passage of middle age - back pain. Hope you might have salvaged some little pleasure out of the Diazepam, and that you can delegate daughter-lifting duties for a bit.