Back now from theatre.
Not inspected my new holes yet.
Lots of blood in the wee bag though.
Tubes everywhere, as usual post op.
I’ve asked for food, on the basis that I haven’t had any for 2 and a half days, and think I probably ought to, or I’ll waste away ( and muscle is the first to disappear )
My lovely friend, Cherie, who I spent a brilliant afternoon with at the Science Museum last week, is coming to see me later on. We have a shared interest in medical matters, and the 3rd floor of the Museum has all sorts of historic devices to do with that. A lot of it seems absolutely bizarre now, but back when the Earth was flat ( and before ) , they believed all sorts of weird sh** could cure you of ills.
Actually I know a few people that could do with a bit of trepanning….
Blimey, I’ve now heard 3 farts coming from my side/front. It sounds a bit unreal, to be honest, as it’s obviously not coming from the ‘ right’ place. If someone was standing next to me, then there would be an immediate assumption that it was their arse, rather than my front.
I can already see that it’s going to cause a lot of confusion/ embarrassment/ amusement ( last bit, for me ).
l expected to see the bag blow up and shoot off, whizzing around the room, but disappointingly a fart would seem to be actually a small volume or air ( wind / gaseous turd ) rather than enough to fill a balloon, as I’d always imagined. Given how badly some farts smell, it’s just as bloody well they’re actually so small in volume – otherwise, knowing what I now know, a big, bad one could clear a whole football stadium.