Incongruous

It was raining torrentially as I set out for the hospital this morning. I decided to 'treat' myself by parking in the hospital car park to avoid getting wet on the way in. Parking is expensive so I have mostly been parking in the village and walking up (good exercise, too).

However, when I got there, there was a huge queue waiting to get into the hospital car park. I really mean a huge queue, maybe the best part of fifty cars. I turned around and went back to the village car park and got duly soaked in the walk up to the hospital.  

I eventually found Mr Flossmo on the new ward but not without some hunting. Then, not long before I was due to leave the doctor came and said Mr Flossmo could go home... but not for 2-3 hours whilst they prepared the discharge papers. We were elated and disappointed at the same time!

We sat for an hour with bags packed until the nurse took pity on us and said we could go, and she would post the papers. I then walked back to the village and guess what? There was still a queue of about fifty cars trying to get into the hospital car park. I managed to work around the queue and pull up at the entrance where I called Mr Flossmo and he swiftly appeared. It was all way more stressful than it needed to be.

Mr Flossmo is delighted to be home, if only for the tranquility; Sky is delighted to have him home, if only for the fact that he feeds her and she can look forward to a return to routine; and me? I'm delighted to have him home if only so that I no longer have to find my way around that crazy hospital.

I took the photograph of the 'tropical' area at Frimley Park this morning as the rain hammered down and the sodden legs of my jeans flapped around like a pair of flatfish. Yes, I'm definitely glad to have Mr Flossmo home.