Hospital

I had to get up early at 6am and have breakfast. (Yesterday) Oh, I spent the day in hospital, (The afternoon) and I had to fast for 6 hours before I went in. Gastroscopy. General anaesthetic. 

There seemed to be four of us being done at once. One guy was really chatty, I thought I was going to hate him, but I didn’t, he was a decent bloke under all the yap. Music promoter, hence the yap. Another guy, who I think had the beginning of dementia, they were very, um, nurturing of him. Careful, I guess you’d say. He seemed nice. And a guy called Lance, who was very quiet. He reminded me of Lance Armstrong, maybe he’d pre-dosed? I found myself being unusually polite, I heard myself say thank you after everything. It must have been the nerves. So, we had all the versions of man represented.

All blokes. I guess the feebly minded white male privilege brigade would make some point about it being proof that guys are under threat now a days… and, you know, if you believe that, you really need to pull your head out of your arse and smell the roses.

They didn’t find anything alarming, just a bit of gastritis, said the nice doctor. I must look up what that is.

When I was in recovery, eating sandwiches and drinking coffee, one nurse said propofol to another nurse.

“Is that the Michael Jackson drug.”

“Yes.”

“I can see why he liked it.” I was feeling all lushy. (I can see why he liked it)

The two nurses laughed.

Sam had to come and pick me up. I wasn’t allowed to leave on my own, in fact, I had to be supervised all evening. General anaesthetic. We walked home, not sure that is what the hospital had in mind, but we did. I was craving McDonalds, don’t know why, I am pretty sure I haven’t eaten it since 2019, possibly 2018. We had happy meals, it somehow seemed appropriate.