Tales from a hospital bed: Prison tats, powerless Wolverines and homemade scones

Thursday 13 May

Day 21

There’s a chap I often sit with when I pop downstairs for a smoke.

He is in a wheelchair, both his feet are strapped with bandages and he’s one of many people here who have plastic bags attached to their bodies. I asked him about the tattoo on his chest and he told me it was done in prison where he recently completed a 20-year stint.

I’m too scared to ask if he was found guilty of multiple crimes or if he murdered someone.

Maybe I’ll raise the question before I leave.

Rennie was given a pat on the back and he hit the road with a sling around his arm and a new metal shoulder. Now he’s like Wolverine without any superpowers. He was fun to have around and I’m sad he’s gone.

Nathi is hoping for an operation tomorrow to fix the ankle he snapped. He’s in tremendous pain and I really feel for him.

Meanwhile, Frans gave me one of his scones. He doesn’t get many of them so I was very grateful. And he was right, they are really good.

They finally reached my name on the list for surgery last night, so my latest operation is done and dusted 🙂

Despite being as busy as he was, the surgeon (Dr Moore) kindly took some time to explain the procedure beforehand and if all goes well, he says I might be going home soon.

I also asked the anaesthetist how to pronounce “anaesthetist” and I think I’ve got that one in the bag. Now I must just learn to say Worcestershire and I’ll be able to speak all the words in my head.