Back again

I spent just over 6 hours in A&E with Dad last night, which was very worrying. The waiting though - that was ABSURD - the hospital is falling apart because of all the NHS cuts, with not enough beds to cope. One of the reception staff who came on the graveyard shift noticed how bad Dad was, slumped on the metal chair, so she 'obtained' a comfy padded one from the staff room for him which is normally reserved for late night sleepslumbers of staff. You could hear the relief in his voice when she added a footstool and pillow and blanket.

It was another 3 hours before Dad saw a doctor, and was able to lie down on a trolley, and another 5 before a bed finally became available on a proper ward. They were prepping him for surgery later today but eventually decided not to until he has some new scans. Which he'll have to wait for. He's now home with a course of antibiotics stronger than billy-o and hoping it's nothing too serious. And me too.

On a lighter note he feels a lot better though, so big yays for that.