Despite a full-face
ventilator CPAP gadget I got off to sleep reasonably promptly last
night. I was disturbed a few times by various noises, but I suppose
that is to be expected in a hospital ward. I didn't realise that I
would have my temperature and blood pressure checked at 1.30am
though. That came as something of a surprise. After then I then dozed
fitfully until giving up the attempt to sleep and having a shave at
6.30am. For all that this reads as something of a whinge, this would
have been something of a lie-in on most days. However shaving with a
cannula in the back of one's left hand was rather tricky.
At 7.30am someone nearby
started noisily clouting something metal with a hammer. I suddenly
vividly remembered being in the children's ward at the Royal East
Sussex Hospital some forty-odd years ago. Mornings there were rather
noisy too as I recall.
Brekkie was a
disappointment. Having been promised a fry-up I was offered porridge
and bread & butter. I'd been looking forward to that fry-up too.
With brekkie scoffed the surgeon (and a serious entourage)
called to say that once the medications were sorted I could go home.
He did warn me that there would be a delay, and to expect to be home
some time in the early afternoon. I was rather pleased to find all my
supplies delived by 9am, and "er indoors TM"
had delivered me home by 9.30am.
"My Boy TM"
made a flying visit; he was off to acquire a "hooky christmas
tree"; having heard reports of from where they might be
obtained. Should any of my loyal readers be in need of "hooky
christmas trees", it would seem the first fruit of my loin
may know a supplier.
My little dog seemed
pleased to see me; he did whinge at me a few times to take him out,
but I wasn't feeling quite up to a route march just yet. He soon got
the idea that I was having a lazy day, and he jumped and clambered
onto the back of the sofa from where he watched the world going by.
He's clearly recovering from his back injury.
Before leaving the
hospital I'd been asked to select lunch. So at mid day I found myself
sitting at home wondering who (if anyone) was eating the
lasagne and ice cream I'd ordered.
I then popped to the
chemist to collect various prescribed sinal douches and then got some
scoff from the KFC which I devoured whilst watching something I'd
recorded onto the SkyPlus box; a three part documentary about a
re-creation of the voyage of Sir Ernest Shackleton from Elephant
Island to South Georgia. It was quite a serious acheivement at the
time, and the passage of a hundred years would seem to have done
nothing to belittle it.
A colleague from work
called round to take my sick note to the boss, and so I then started
on two weeks' recuperation. I started this by carrying on staring at
the telly, then by playing a little Candy Crush Soda Saga, which is a
mind-numbing game. I then had a go at douching my sinus. If any of my
loyal readers should wonder, take it from me - I wouldn't normally
douche a sinus. I am jsut hoping that (with practice) the
douching effect will become more noticeable than the feeling of
drowning as my nose fills with salt water.
As as I came up for air
"er indoors TM" went off flogging
candles, so I watched more telly whilst next door practiced their
violin. Had I nor just had nasal surgery I would have given them a
blast on my saxophone; that usually shuts up their violining...
I think I might just go
stir-crazy over the next fortnight...
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