Well this isn't going to plan.
I left home on Sunday afternoon and few to Glasgow and then, given the parlous situation with trains and busses and the fact that I was supposed to be isolating as much as possible before going into hospital, I took a taxi to Ayr and stayed the night in the Ayrshire and Galloway Hotel. It was lovely to stay in a smallish non-concrete, glass and steel box hotel. The staff (yes there were staff) were exceptionally helpful and friendly and the food was excellent. I'll not hesitate to stay there again.
The hotel is unprepossessing and at the end of Ayr High Street which, like many other town centres has, unfortunately, passed its sell-by date.
I went for a walk along its length and got the impression that more that half of the properties were empty.
I came into hospital in Ayr on Monday morning with a view to getting my uretic stent changed and being home and back in harness on Tuesday evening.
I'm still in hospital. The operation went very well. It's always good to see a surgeon who's been working on you looking happy. Mr Meddings looked delighted. So was I. He's been my saviour over the last 5 years.
On Tuesday I started off feeling fine and then went downhill with my temperature going up and my blood pressure plummeting. I slept for 10 hours Tuesday night and woke this morning still feeling less than great. My temperature was higher again and my BP lower this morning but as I write this I'm feeling a bit more chipper and hoping, once again, that everything will sort itself out and I'll be home tomorrow. At least I'm in a hospital and have a bed. The worst possible scenario would be to be discharged and then have to end up in an A & E in another hospital.
The oddest thing about this hospital visit has been being on a mixed ward. I recall when they were mooted many moons ago in hospitals there was a huge uproar. Women wouldn't be able to cope with men in the same room in hospital circumstances. As it happens I'm the only man on this ward. No one batted an eyelid when I was wheeled in. There doesn't seem to be any fuss on any side.
The one thing I have discovered though is that men and women discuss completely different things on my small sample of mixed wards. Women don't talk about football. Men don't talk about their operations or procedures. Women, where they can, race for a shower in the morning. Men don't. Men and women are equally squeamish about having blood removed and needles stuck in them. Men keep asking when they can get out. Women don't. Women are very friendly on the ward and interact a lot (including with the man). Men tend to look for some common acquaintances or past connection with others in the ward and if there isn't one then then football takes over.
I'm feeling a lot better. Hopefully I'll be home tomorrow.
