Visit to the Hospital 28 de Agosto

I don’t want to dwell on this too much, but one morning I was in the kitchen - I think it was the 28th December - chatting to one of our guests. After bending down to get some milk out of the fridge, I “took a funny turn”. Why do we use this expression - there’s nothing funny about feeling the lights go out and the floor speeding towards you at a suboptimal rate!? Anyway, I was led to the sofa by Naice and the guests, and we ummed and ahhed about what to do while my life force ebbed and flowed, and finally agreed it would have to be a visit to the hospital. I was bundled into the car (waiting for an ambulance here is an experience only the healthy onlookers can survive) and off we went. I’ll condense the rest of this, ‘cause it really is something to forget about if one can – first stop, childrens’ hospital – oops. Next, ambulance (hey!) to the public hospital. Bed, needles, nurses, doctors, poking, proding, waiting, x-rays, ultra-sounds, blood tests blah blah. Naice went off to get me a pillow and blanket (none of this in the hospital) and we got to stay the night. More needles, nurses, doctors, poking, proding, waiting, x-rays, ultra-sounds, blood tests blah blah next day. Still feeling shite, but preferring to die at home, ended up telling everyone I felt like a spring lamb and could they let me out now please? After some persuasion, they did.

Unfortunately Naice had gone off to town with the guests (well, I mean, we have to look after them too, don’t we?), but not wishing to delay things, I took up my bed (well, pillow and blanket anyway) and staggered out the front door to the nearest café. After a cup of coffee and a burger (no food for 24 hours by this stage), I thought I was going to hit the floor again for round two, but this time the fresh memories of Hospital 28 de Agosto and a desire to die at liberty conquered all. Shortly afterwards Naice appeared like my very own Florence Nightingale (although admittedly a little more tanned) and whisked me off home. And for the two subsequent weeks, while I have been poorly, I really haven’t felt like sitting at the computer - or very much else. In fact I found it all a bit depressing. But now that I am on the mend (don’t know what it was, but I hope it has gone and isn’t coming back), and have today survived my 50th birfday, I am definitely feeling a bit more positive. So there we are, and there you have it.