Hospitals are pretty much all the same, on one point anyway. Going home is like a surprise party. Nobody seems to know anything until suddenly everyone bursts into your room shouting, “Isn’t it great! You can go home!”  You may have been waiting with your bags packed  and ready to go for hours.

Not that I’m complaining.

This time around I have lucked out and got my own room, complete with air con and TV. No snorey  companion beside me to make the nights endless. So it has almost been not bad. The nurses here are an awesome bunch, most of them full of fun and very caring. However overworked they are, they always have something comforting to say to you.

They do suffer from some kind lack of irony however. They barge into your room waking you at all hours. I seem to need medicating every 20 mins at night! Getting the biggest jump and squeal out of you is the game here, and then telling you to “just go back to sleep dear….I’ll be back to finish that in about 20 mins.” They  always know when you have just dropped off too, and that is when they strike.

Jokes aside, I feel very lucky to have been looked after so promptly and professionally each time I come in. If you are going to spend time in hospital I thoroughly recommend our local!

One thing I haven’t done is stick to my diet, having spoken to a few nurses and doctors about it, they reckoned I should  forget about it until I go back home as I would need the extra strength to get back on my feet after the operation. I have tried to eat as well as I can, with the exception of the first dinner. I scoffed all those forbidden goodies into me in no time, knowing I would be fasting from midnight. Trouble is I felt disgusting afterwards.  My body had gotten used to the healthy food, and balked at the idea of all that processed yuk.

 

Today I’ll wait patiently for my own surprise announcement..

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