You Must Be From Away

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I thought they had me wired up for video the other day.

Until I realised that- instead of RGB – it was pretty much RRR.

Aaaah. Drainage tubes!

Those things they ram 5cm into your thigh under anaesthetic.

And rip out without…..

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This is the racetrack.

Every 2 hours, you're allowed ("allowed" is good – the wardens lurk around with whips….) to walk the length of the corridor and then back to bed.

Not as easy as it sounds.

Given that when they replaced the crook bits with titanium, they also buggered around with the thigh muscles and made some stuff disappear totally, so that your foot flops around with a mind of its own and you have to force it straight as well as concentrating on which crutch to use for which step.

And not look down.

Or fall over.

And avoid the other 30 or so folks in various states of perambulatory disrepair who are doing the same thing……

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The coffee here's terrible.

I think they make it by roasting used hypodermic syringes. mixing the residue with the contents of the gazundas and straining it through soiled sheets.

So it was a real treat to get a latte from the TSOW, personally couriered up the hill from the market by Ms jb this morning.

And my favourite coffee lady, Brigitte Müller-Dildei, popped a nougat bar on top as a get well present

Now, wasn't that nice?

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..one leg's now longer than the other.

I tried to point this out to the surgeon the other day, but he shot off on a tangent about how the titanium for the new bit is sourced from the same blacksmith who makes suspension kit for Ferrari F1 cars.

But coming from a long line of blacksmiths, I know what a dodgy lot we are…

So if you see someone lurching along with a distinct list to starboard, it'll be me

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The guy in the bed next me gets so many visitors, it’s not funny.

Take that literally. I’m checking with lawyers whether I can publish this, but let’s just say that there’s a distinct lack of firewall between vocal chords and what goes for grey matter…

I make up with quality.

Ms jb, of course, who keeps me on the straight and narrow and plies me with goodies from Italian delicatessens and French patisseries.
Plus more affection than I deserve.

And then Grace Niklas from Ireland, with Mum, Dad and Grandad. (Links scattered through YMBFA and MDP but I can’t set them up from here.

Suffice to say that Stephan thought it important that I got to meet his daughter, which was a great honour for me and a big thrill for the folks on Ward 5B at the Vincenz Hospital

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I wish they’d make up their bloody minds…

First of all, they drain of litres of the stuff.

Now they reckon they took too much and need to put some back.

I think I should have asked to see their medical qualifications before throwing myself at their mercy.

They’re probably all a bunch of vets…..

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I think I've worked out why they're torturing me.

I appear to have offended the doctor.

All this under influence of morphine or whatever goodies they pumped me fulll of yesterday, I'm supposed to have accused him of stealing my dinner. Noting that he looked exceptionally wellfed for doctor.

But I fear it was comment as he was leaving that made him go a bit dark on me.

Something along the lines of 'Who does he think he is? A fucking doctor or something?'

I think grovelling my be involved to get things back on track…..