Yesterday afternoon was a hot one. If I was given a pound for everytime someone would walk into my little sideroom and comment on the extraordinary warm temperature, I would have about three quid. I asked if the windows could be opened any wider or a fan would be possible. I was told no on both counts. The windows because I might somehow make it to the other side of the room, wrestle open a panel and climb out. If I was capable of that, I wouldn’t be in hospital! The refusal of the fan felt cruel, but unlike most of the country, I haven’t forgotten that we’re still in the middle of a worldwide killer pandemic, so you’ll hear no moans from me. Apart from why are we getting this bloody heatwave in mid September?
Today has been your typical morning as a patient. Waiting. And more waiting. My sideroom is too hot, but my handheld fan is a Godsend. I’m pretty sure it is ok to use, as many nurses have noticed it. Despite how helpful the fan is to me, I would hate to break ward rules, especially concerning Covid. Even when being transferred onto the ward two days ago, I was given a face mask, but told that if I struggled as a result, I could remove it. Considering I was making such a short journey and the possibility that I may be saving someone’s life as a result of wearing it, I did so. It’s what any normal member of society does.
This set of blog posts seem to be a lot more boring compared to previous hospital stays. Perhaps I need to break a couple of major limbs, or nearly die in Intensive Care. If that is what it takes to spice my posts up, you can sod off! Make this hospital stay as mundane, boring and dull as possible.
After sharing my latest ailments with anyone patient enough to listen, I received a well-educated guess of a diagnosis, where my mouthful of sores is concerned.
I actually received the same diagnosis from two separate individuals, which means it is almost certainly correct and just one step away from being as accurate as Dr Google.
... seriously,...
Just when you think that you have reached the end of the world's worst afternoon tea service, the chef brings you out another shit sandwich.
This has been my last three weeks.
With Claire returning to work, it was my turn to approach something of a normal and meaningful existence. Things were sounding good with my employer...
You may have noticed that my isolation clock has disappeared from the top right of the screen. That is because I broke it. The clock has been smashed!
The reason behind this blatant act of vandalism, is that as of 12:19pm today, I left the house!
After 142 days, 19 hours, 19 minutes and 14 seconds, I...
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
Leave a Reply