On Tuesday morning, I woke up in my side ward feeling like shit.
My side hurt still, but in a different place and I was wired up to some machine or other. I felt like an army of woodland creatures had been in to use my mouth as a toilet and had the mother of all headaches.
But, out of the window, Christmas time looked lovely. The hill in the distance was a stark silhouette as I woke, but as the day slowly dawned it began to sparkle. Mmm gorgeous.
There was more gorgeousness in the world inside the hospital in the shape of a student nurse. She was peachy. Of course, me being me, I didn’t even find out her name, much less get a date for when I got out of there… sad face.
Anyway, over the course of the next few days, I slowly recovered. Visits from family helped of course. One incident sticks in my mind. My cousin asked to see my wound. Now having shown it to her, I know that she had expected to see a brown sticking plaster type thing covering the wound site. What she actually saw was a clear slicking plaster showing the wound off, I guess, to any medical professional who wanted to see how things were going at a glance.
By Thursday, they had turfed me out of my cosy little side ward and onto the main ward. I was feeling a lot better by then so this wasn’t a problem. Truth be known, it gave me the chance to meet some other people. Well, I say meet other people, in actual fact it was more like me being on nodding terms with other people.
I was now able to move around the ward, gong into the television room and stuff like that. All the time leaning over to my right hand side slightly…