Monday 18 December 1989

I woke up (or was woken) this morning with a familiar stabbing sensation in my right side.

Struggling to the parents’ bedroom I managed to let them know that the old trouble had reoccurred.  It wasn’t that early, so they got up and I crawled into their bed.  Within half an hour the doctor had been called and I was lay on my left hand side, knees up to my chin… well, you fill in the rest.

I was whisked off to the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital and admitted to a surgical ward.   Fortunately, I had scored a small side ward off the main ward.  Good job too as I proceeded to produce some rather interesting green stuff from deep within.  I spent the day in a haze, in equal parts moaning with pain, sleeping, throwing up and feeling hungry.

By 5.30pm they were ready to operate and I was wheeled down to theatre.  I remember being in the anaesthetist’s room, waiting to go and Steve Wright was on the radio.  He was still on Radio 1 at this time so I guess that the anaesthetist thought he was pretty with it, playing Radio 1 in his room.  The only other thing that I remember was his challenge to me to count up to ten as he introduced the drugs into my system.  I think that I got to three…

Now relieved of my appendix, I spent the night drifting in and out of consciousness, receiving injections in the buttock and also, something that I remember vividly, seeing the drip which was supposed to be delivering stuff into me, slowly turning red as my blood moved in the opposite direction.

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