I have a blue arm.

I’m blue dadba dee daba dye!

I have a blue arm. It’s true. It’s the right one. It’s something I noticed at work on Monday and, being quite fond of my arm, I decided to get it checked out so as not to risk it falling off. I’m right handed you see and therefore reluctant to lose it.   The view from St Thomas’ Hospital ain’t that bad…
The last time I spent a night in hospital I was 11 and there to get my appendix out. I was on a children’s ward where my mum could sit with me and pass the time. Also, with her nursey background, she’s pretty good at staying calm and laughing at situations, where I get a bit worried. This time I had Oli who was also very lol (telling the doctor he thinks I may have asthma). Until the vascular surgeon was describing to me what the problem was. It was Oli who went grey, sweaty and feint. Nothing a bit of a lie down on the hospital bed couldn’t sort out though…

But he trooped on and went home to grab me some stuff: namely a toothbrush, some pjs and five pairs of knickers. I have no idea how long I’ll be here but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Here’s a question for you: what is hospital etiquette? You’re put into a bed in a room full of strangers and then you’re expected to sort of settle in. Everyone is ill so where do you look? At their ill bits? What are the rules on eye contact? Do you sleep in your clothes? Is it okay to take my bra off? Because I know I can’t sleep until the girls are free.

I took matters into my own hands, removed the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder, drawing the curtain around me and tried to get some sleep.

I awoke this morning to the sounds of a loud voice from the bed opposite: “It was only a small one. I’m constipated you see.” Then the smell of wee. Oh here we go…

However, after a change of knickers and a brush of the old teeth (courtesy of Oli) I braved pulling the curtain back. Just as I expected, three other ill and old people.

But I shouldn’t judge. They’re all lovely. I’ve even made friends with 93-year-old, very deaf Ethel (the constipated one) who flashed me her undies when she was showing me how flexible she is. In any other circumstances I would be alarmed but I was actually mega impressed.

I’ve got some scans and things today but I’ll keep you all updated. For now, me and Ethel have got a crossword to finish…

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