Don't Expect to Sleep In Hospital

A combination of the night life at Resort La Flinders and my persistent nosebleed prevented much sleep. My roomie and I took turns snoring, snuffling, tossing, turning,  and being visited to have our various rates and pressures measured. I don't know how I coped before I had a smart phone on which to scroll in the middle of an endless night like this one.

In due course the sun rose, as it reliably does, and the endless night was over.

The big rusty building hid the sunrise but I raised the blinds and watched the sky lighten anyway.

Breakfast proved less reliable, needing to be ordered a second time due to kitchen delivery errors. Whoever got my first breakfast, I hope you enjoyed it.

Off I went for a shower, mumbling dire predictions that the surgeon would turn up to review me as soon as I turned on the taps and committed to my ablutions. Sure as eggs, she did. My roomie made my apologies and off she (the surgeon, not the roomie) flitted to do do other Important Surgeon Things until such time as I was respectable for conversation.

Waiting ensued, as it does in Hospital World. Tepid coffee arrived, as it does in Hospital World. The surgeon, travelling in Hospital Time, flitted in again.

"You're good to go! Take these medications and wash out your sinuses 4 times a day. See you at my rooms in 2 weeks."

Okay. Sinus washes. That sounded very exciting.

While I was orchestrating my escape from Hospital World Roger was packing and cleaning and bombarding me with photos of household miscellania captioned "Is this ours?" It's amazing how ownership of a cake of soap or a tea towel gets blurred after 6 weeks in someone else's house.

Ownership of this cat is not disputed. The cat stays where she is. She is a naughty cat: she gobbles her food and then vomits the extra up in places where unwary feet will tread. Or on her owners' bed. Bad cat.

I escaped the gravitational forces of Flinders just before lunch, going home to a ham and cheese sandwich rather than the delectable hospital lunch which I had optimistically ordered while waiting for the surgeon to return.  We were now officially in two places at once, having a one-night overlap between cat sits, neither cat being impressed by us coming home smelling of the other.  I settled into the new (not really, this is the third time) sit on the premise that it's closer to the Royal Adelaide should I develop any sinus-related emergencies overnight. Also, I'm the official cat-approved cat-brusher for this Lord Cat and that is a responsibility not to be taken lightly.

Cat claims lap, brushing to occur once sufficient lap napping is had.

Roger took a quick trip to the shop for supplies and then I polished my new sinus-washing skills. I'll spare you the details.

The sun is shining outside but I am not allowed to ride my bike. Instead I've been firmly ordered to restrict myself to gentle walks only, sinuses apparently being sensitive things that bleed if subjected to strain during recovery.  So if you'll excuse me, I have a cat to brush and then the sleep I lost last night is catching up with me, so it's off to my comfortable bed, cat not invited.