All patched up

Good news folks, I'm on the road to recovery following my hernia operation.  I won't bore you with the details... oh, who am I kidding, this is a blog after all.Friday didn't feel ominous or troubled at all.  There were no dark clouds, no rumblings of thunder, no vultures perched on the lampposts.  It was just an ordinary summer's day, with blue sky and wispy white clouds and birds singing in the trees.  And, quite honestly, I wasn't worried one bit.  Ever since I had been given the diagnosis I had remained calm and philosophical about the whole thing.  People had reassured me that it wasn't scary or dangerous and they were sure I'd be fine.  I could have told them that.  It wasn't until the night before that I had wondered why people seemed so intent on reassuring me, that perhaps I had been too blasé about the whole thing and actually there was something to fear after all.  But no, I pushed those thoughts aside, took a deep breath of clean morning air, and walked confidently - if slowly - into the hospital.I was met with a look of surprise when I announced myself at reception.  "Hello," I said, "I'm here for an operation."  I had so wanted to walk up to reception and declare at the top of my lungs "They're going to take me apart!"  But I muffed it at the last minute.  How boring.  "Okay," the receptionist replied and, looking round me said "and... are they with you too?"  Yes.  My support crew.  My groupies.  My dedicated followers.  Or, to be more precise, my wife (who would be coming in with me), my son (who wouldn't be), my chauffeur (because I wasn't allowed to drive myself home), and my hanger-on (whose job it was to entertain Samuel).  From the receptionist's expression, clearly I was the first person ever to have day-surgery who came with such an entourage.  I felt at the same time guilty and proud.(more…)

By Matthew, ago