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I’m back

I’m back, and what a week  –  well eleven days  –  it’s been.   Once I could watch the telly and read the papers, I was longing to blog.

The reams of written instructions sent in advance by the private hospital sternly said “No laptops” and indeed “No mobiles”.   On arrival, there was a folder of info on the table rather like the one found in hotel bedrooms.   That boasted proudly that they offer complimentary wifi!   What’s more the nurses quietly advised that one had a mobile available to make the call saying one was ready to go home, because the bedroom telephones were charged at hotel rates.

Operation went OK  –  the great thing being that one is completely oblivious and the two consultants clearly knew their stuff.   Afterwards was another story with five days when even swallowing a tiny drop of water was so difficult and hurt, how it hurt.

The nurses were great, caring and pleasant.    Although I guess the staff nurse who removed the clips from the wound before I came home thought I was a baby, but then I told her I was a coward about these things.  

Back home, all I can say is thank goodness for Mr Tesco’s delivery service and for the pharmacy who I persuaded to deliver my tablets.

It’s twenty years since my last operation.   I’d like to think it will be twenty more at least before I need another.



For We Are the People of England, and We have not Spoken Yet.

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