Sunday

Well here I am, living the life of Riley, lying down on a Sunday afternoon with a cup of tea and some biscuits, being waited on by smiling charming girls who seem to anticipate my every whim.

According to the press I am one of the thousands of elderly bed blockers and persons who need a lot of care from the NHS, to the detriment of the rest of the population.  If you are lucky enough to end up as an emergency in the Royal Sussex County Hospital at Brighton, as I did late last Thursday night, NHS care is excellent and not at all how it is often portrayed in the media.

I've been slowing down a bit over the last few weeks which I had put down to old age.  Reluctantly I followed my doctor's advice to come to hospital for tests to see what was wrong.  How thankful I am that I did, because they are treating me and I am feeling much better and hoping to go home soon.  I was suffering from a shortage of oxygen and a slowing down of the heart, which caused a build-up of fluid in my legs.

Talk about the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, on arrival here I was poked and pummelled in the most peculiar places, pierced with various needles and given strange pills to swallow - all done with the greatest good humour by nursing staff.

Amanda is thinking about taking up residence since she is here so often.  Mike has been in attendance, keeping things going at home, and ferrying us to and fro.  Roger came hotfoot when he heard I was in hospital and was relieved to see I was not at death's door.

I will blog again when I'm settled back at home.