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I tried to get some sleep, but, regrettably, there was a bloke in his 90s in next bed, named George, from Geordieland (I’m not even going there, don’t worry), in a lot of pain, so, I was kept awake that night, by him shouting: “Let me die! Let me die! Let me die!” Whatever he said, he repeated three times, so, sometimes it was “let me die” one, but this was augmented with “Get me to heaven x3”, “Hell will do x3”, or, in a complete turnaround, after morphine, again, repeated three times, less pressing: “Aaah, that’s heaven.” (Well, he’d got his wish, then.)
Breakfast was served next morning at seven. I was shattered, very hungry, so was relieved to have two slices of toast, and a cup of tea. After that, my blood pressure was taken (yes, it was fine), and I was told that, later that day, I would have a tube go down into my stomach, to see what cause may have been. Jesus H! All I wanted was to go home, and get some rest. I felt fine.
Well, throughout this, my sweetheart was great. She’d come over evening before, with kids, and stayed til 10:30, and through tedium of next day, she was, once again, there as soon as she could be, so we faced boredom together. We bought a chess set, did some crosswords, and waited. Then a nurse told me that I would be allowed to go home, and come back, as an out-patient, to have stomach scan. This was fantastic news. All I had to do was hang around for ward doctor to just check up on me, then I could go. By 2:30, that afternoon, he still hadn’t seen me, and Tracy had to go, to get kids from school.
Typically, he saw me soon after she had left, where, despite what nurse had said, I was told I would have to, after all, stay another night, as I might have to wait ages for scan, were I an out-patient. Jesus Christ, this was getting absurd. Never mind, I agreed to all he said, and, carried on reading Ronnie. At least chapters were becoming less painful to read, due to my being allowed food.
I was all mentally prepared, my hatches battened down for another stint, when, yet another nurse came over to my bed, told me it wasn’t serious after all, and I could, after all, get hell out. Well, for god’s sake, I could have told them all that, over a day before, but there we are, I was given some antacid pills, told to go and see my GP when I got home, and that was that. I had felt fine whole time I was there, and all I came away with was some jumped up Andrews Liver Salts.
My blood pressure was fine throughout...
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