MY BLOG: Every day for a year.
Day 31. ‘Hootless’

At a guess, the gent was in his mid-sixties. He brushed past me with a degree of irritation and entitlement, I was clearly obstructing his trajectory and he was having none of it. His mop of white hair danced madly in his self propelled breeze as did his hospital gown, which typically was unfastened at the back. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his naked derrière and his absolute ‘no hoots are given,’ but it was a call to my own resolve as I faced the unknown. I remarked to my other half, ” that will never be me. Not ever! No matter what happens, that will not be me!” In recent times quite a number of my friends here have undergone various hospital encounters, all of varying degrees. I think I can speak for most saying, what’s important to you pre-surgery does not rate one fat rat’s backside after. My recovery ward had five other inmates. Each of us with bandaged heads, we were quite the mummy collective. Day three the nurse gently stirred me, “Stevie, it’s time to give the shower a go.” I had been the last to arrive on the ward and had watched my comrades one by one walk the plank. The shower was probably no more than four or five feet away, but as far as I was concerned, it was an insurmountable distance. The nurses had been so wonderful, and I really didn’t want to be ‘that’ patient, so I signalled my acceptance with a feeble thumbs up. The nurse gently grabbed my hands and levered me upwards. Some fifteen minutes later, my feet made the floor and I was finally verticle. My drugged out, somewhat comatose buddies gurgled the best cheer they could muster, and I raised my hand to acknowledge their support. The shower attendant was holding the door for me, and enthused, ” you can do this sweetie.” As my right foot dragged behind me, a most reluctant participant, I called back to her in my best Igor voice “I’m coming master.” The few giggles didn’t compensate for the awful reverberation inside my head at the sound of my own voice. As I inched toward my destination, it was not lost on me my own state of half-nakedness, and my ‘never ever’ had quickly become a ‘no hoots are given.’ The ever caring nurse tried to assist my modesty, I told her it was fine, I would just close my eyes :-). These days on viewing others in such circumstances, I keep my smiles to myself and salute them in solidarity!

Thanks for listening
Until tomorrow,
Stevie. x