and jolly nice it was too. I was very pleased to get home and the food was much nicer than the hospital grub - although that wasn't at all bad.

The day was spent getting things sorted to go home but it all took an age. I had to have the X-ray I hadn't had the day before, have blood tests, swap the zimmer frame for crutches and race up and down a little flight of stairs to demonstrate I'd be safe at home (even though I'm keeping downstairs)

Then I just had to wait for someone to be ready to re-dress the wound, give me a carrier bag of pills and talk me through when and how I should take them and give me a very detailed description of what had been done to me, down to the glue used to stick the socket in

The journey home was a bit tricky they got me a cab and I had the most delightful and helpful driver who can't have been the legal age to drive and had the most awful taste in music. As soon as I got out of the hospital I suddenly found I was almost unable to use the crutches I'd been galloping up and down the corridor outside the ward and I also really struggled to get in and out of the car

Ant's kindly rearranged the front room so I can use the chairs and settees and don't have to negotiate to complicated a route. I did feel a bit wiped out when I got in, but a wash and the supper pictured above (at a more civilised time than five too) soon revived me.

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