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.