You can say that again.<\/p>\n
She weighed me again. And having been down past Target Weight 01 and close to Target Weight 02, my current weight is depressing to say the least.<\/p>\n
She took off all of my bandages and dressings and commented about how well the surgery was looking. "Would I like to see?"<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n And so I told her to clear off and put a dressing on it, and it took her a while to do it. I think that she was hoping that I’d catch sight of it.<\/p>\n She’s formally forbidden me to wrap a dressing around the arm – just leave the plaster on it. And she’s going to ‘phone up the nurse and give her instructions. And so I’m suspicious.<\/p>\n But some good has come out of this meeting. I told her of my woes at the private clinic. She was horrified. Being a terminally ill patient, I’m entitled to 100% of my healthcare covered by the State. She showed me the paper that she has which confirms it.<\/p>\n The Private Clinic had no right to make me pay even a penny. So she’s asked to see a copy of the receipt and she’ll take it up with the Hospital’s Welfare Department<\/p>\n After she’d taken a blood sample she threw me out and the taxi brought me home where my faithful cleaner was waiting. She helped me up the stairs and into my apartment.<\/p>\n She seems to think that I’m moving better than I did previously, and how I wish that it were true<\/p>\n Not having had anything to eat or drink as yet, I sat down to breakfast. And couldn’t move for a while afterwards, so when the nurse came round to deal with me later, the place was a tip with breakfast dishes everywhere.<\/p>\n After she left, I had some ‘phone calls to make.<\/p>\n The President of the Residents’ Committee is returning on Sunday so we had a good that about this and that. <\/p>\n It included the latest news about our neighbour, currently residing in the hospital. Things are not looking to bright for her future and we may have seen the last of her in this building<\/p>\n Once we had hung up I made a drink and then ‘phoned a friend.<\/p>\n Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a few weeks ago I mentioned a project that I might be starting at some point.<\/p>\n It’s had a couple of false starts and deciding that it can’t go on for ever and can’t be delayed much longer, I have decided to go in a different direction.<\/p>\n This actually means calling for help. After all, the key to success has been knowing where to stop and when to seek the advice of experts, and if you have friends who can be depended up to help you in this respect, then so much the better.<\/p>\n And I’ll tell you something else for nothing, and that is at the end of a chat that lasted a Rosemaryesque one hour and 15 minutes, I was a long way further down the road than I was after several months of prevaricating<\/p>\n Tea tonight was pie and veg, the last slice which was a shame because it was so nice. And it was followed by apple turnover and soya cream<\/p>\n Yes, my air fryer is great for warming up slices of pie and apple turnovers.<\/p>\n So now I’m off to bed, hoping for a really good sleep, and I mustn’t forget to wash my shorts in the morning. I forgot last week. Why I wash them on Saturdays is because with not going to bed until later, they have longer to dry.<\/p>\n But before I go to bed, let me tell you about the Clinic at Avranches and the guy in the next cubicle to me.
\nHe works in the quarry down the road and wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way when they detonated some explosive.
\n"And it’s badly damaged my … errr … ummm …"<\/em><\/strong> he said, groping for the polite word.
\n"Rectum?"<\/em><\/strong> asked the nurse, helpfully
\n"Well"<\/em><\/strong> said the man "in all honesty it’s not done ’em much good"<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n
