Let's Slice up Jo! 04.04.3013

Thursday - 04.04.2013. 

The time - 7am, 

The place - Rosebank Hospital, 

The job - surgery on Jo.

Below we see my room for the night. Those curtains dah'ling, are to die for! 

Um... actually, in a hospital, that's not as funny as it might have been... 

The bed didn't take up as much of my fascination as...

THESE!!!

Hospital Underwear!!!

Baggy things made of a transparent tissuey substance that ensures that the latest fashions in modesty, privacy and good taste were as are far from the hospital ward as could be!

Horrid as it was to admit, they were rather comfie...

Moving on! Moving on!

With the elegant under things came the classic open-at-the-back hospital gown to wear. 

It ensured a good healthy breeze about the privates.

Then I earned my bracelets! 

Apparently I was: 

Mrs (I'm married?) Husdon (Ooookay), allergic to Wheat and Diary. (But not journals or the Captain's Log?) 

Then off I went to have my operation in the Theatre, or what I think of as 'The Coldest Room Known To Man!' 

~~~The empty space of unconsciousness!~~~

I awoke in bed, so addled by drugs that whatever my doctor said, or the nurses did, whatever depravities, perversions and people dressed as clowns... it all passed by me in a swoony haze...

*Peace sign*

Here is the drip in my left arm that fed me the weird concoctions that kept the world a happy place:

And this is the stand with unco-operative wheels, that I had to drag to the bathroom all the time. There were times when I seriously considered just peeing in the corner and letting god sort it out.

This is Pa-Kak, my chicken, staunch ally in the fight against sleeplessness! Very fluffy!!!

The tell tale blood stains!! The doctor did it! 

Roses from my doc, to hope I well. 

Also a magazine where I discovered just how awesome my language skills are, in that I could find a million words for what was asked for in the crosswords and not one of them was ever right! 

I blame the magazine for trying to box in my creativity!

 Once they removed the cast off my chest and just slathered me in bandages, I was left with the most gruesomely red rash from the plaster that went around my stomach and top of my chest.
ITCHY!!!!
This actually caused me more grief then the operation site, which was terribly well behaved, pain wise.

 5 days later and I still haven't seen the damage! I go to have bandages changed today!
Will it be gory? Bloody? Raw, open and bleeding?
Guess there's only one way to find out....

***And off I go, cutting my blog right here, leaving you in suspense! My English writing teacher would roll over in her grave! Well assuming she's dead that is...***