Back again!
Hello, back again! I’m sure some of you more inquisitive types are wondering why I’ve not been blogging for the past couple of months. Yes? Well, good – I’m glad you’re paying attention. The thing is, I’ve been laid up in hospital – I didn’t want to worry anyone unduly with this news, so I thought I’d wait until I was on the mend, and it was all done and dusted, before I said anything. Anyway, it is all done now, and I’m home, convalescing – what a wonderful, comforting word! – and already thinking of new artistic endeavours.
Back again, but first I’ll reflect a little on my stay in hospital, which was… character-building, to say the least.
I’m sure anyone who has endured a stay in hospital, or been with anyone who has, will know the form by now. The actual physical shock and pain of an operation is only one part of the equation – once you’ve actually been ministered unto by the highly-skilled surgeons, you are plonked back into the antiseptic netherworld that is life on a hospital ward.
I must say though, our nurses are wonderful. They and all the support staff seem to have a never-ending reserve of patience and resilience and simple kindness. It seems to me a weird combination of being at the front in World War One and a skivvy in Downton Abbey. Some people treat nurses like servants which I think is appalling.
There was one episode shortly after the operation when I was took very poorly in the night. I was still under the influence of a barrage of pain killers, but was aware of the expressions of benign kindness in the nurses suddenly dissolve into something rather more serious. Battle stations. It didn’t help that I’d got up to go to the loo and started to suffocate – I was quite literally gasping for air. Within seconds there were at least four nurses on hand. How I got from the toilet to the bed I do not know, other than they must have just scooped me up.
With splendid efficiency they tested my blood pressure – that wonderful indicator of anything adrift – cue more horrified expressions. They checked my heart rate, which was by that time a feeble little thump, and I was starting to hyperventilate into the bargain. An oxygen mask was provided, and eventually I was able to breathe more normally, although the pain, even anaesthetized, was excruciating. I was CAT scanned, tended to and medicated, and helped through this grim and grisly experience, which I hope is now all behind me.
I am very interested in people, and as I recovered I was able to observe the panorama of daily life that unfolded around me. The food was pretty grim, to be honest, although I understand that some hospitals have five-star cuisine. I got loaded down with boxes of chocolates, which ironically I don’t really eat. (Now crisps…that’s different!) Also, I had a very bizarre collection of fellow patients to share the ward with, but I imagine everyone thinks that. All human life was here. Some were lovely, and we enjoyed a chat, another seemed for some unknown reason to think I was somehow posh or privileged and took against me. Nothing I could do about that! Yet another of my fellow inmates enjoyed eating apples at 1am! One. In. The. Morning. The noise was like torture!
But now I’m home, and the whole Carry On Doctor experience is fast fading into memory as I draw up my new plans… For what? you ask. Well I’ll tell you all about that next time!
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