Yesterday morning while I was out with the dog, the hospital rang the OB just to tell her she had not been forgotten and they expected to be in touch either Saturday or early next week about the date of her operation. Then while I was out in the afternoon they rang again to advise that they have a slot in the operating theatre on Monday and they also have a surgeon available (I would have thought the one was of little use without the other) and they will ring again on Monday morning to arrange the time she should report. No food after 8.00pm Sunday, and only water after midnight. Our dear old National Health Service receives a lot of criticism, but we really cannot complain about the treatment her ladyship has received or the attitude of any of the staff with whom we had contact. On the other hand, the cleanliness of the hospital left a great deal to be desired: in fact it was filthy.
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I mentioned some while ago that a lady had left home on 22 December to fetch the Christmas turkey. I gave the wrong date as she actually left home on 19 December. Yesterday's paper carried a report that she hopes to get back home sometime next week.
2 comments:
...and you thought you'd been having fun ;-)
Yeah - some people have all the luck, don't they?
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