Chopped Liver – It’s oh so quiet

As planned I am sitting in the ward on a very quiet sunday evening – save for sporadic uncontrolled body functions and some shouty shouty nursing staff.

I should of course be doing this having enjoyed relaxing at home for the weekend and I am sure I would have be benefitted greatly from that and for some cruel twist of fate it didn’t happen.

I am so looking forward to a good nights sleep in my own bed next to my wife – I think I prefer her noises.

They still don’t know the cause of my infection – the most obvious have been ruled out although I have not heard back from the CMV tests.

The consultants would very much like to know the reason even if the antibiotics have worked and the symptoms are disappearing – the blood results have definitely spiked in places – White count and bilirubin high for example.

There is no chance of me getting out of here until that situation resolves.

I know I have only been in 2 and a half weeks – but it will be at least until the end of this week before my next possible release.

You know I have had about enough of it here – must work harder on getting my pulse rate down – or that push it up further?

How do you get your pulse rate down?

Answers on a postcard to:

David Blaine
In an icebox
Bottom of an ocean
Permanent address.

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3 Comments on “Chopped Liver – It’s oh so quiet”

  1. Graham Pyle Says:

    David, sorry to learn that your ‘good behaviour’ weekend release didn’t go according to plan. Hopefully next weekend then.
    Arsenal didn’t have a good weekend either – but then I’m a Spurs man!

  2. Fiona Says:

    it’s oh. so still
    you’re all alone
    and so peaceful until…

    OK so now I have Bjork shrieking in my head.

    How about replacing that image by slowing your pulse to the Guinness advert drum beat and the words: “He waits; that’s what he does. And I tell you what: tick followed tock followed tick followed tock followed tick…”

    As the slogan said “Good Things Come To Those Who Wait”

    • davidkallin Says:

      Make sure Fiona that they don’t transplant your imagination when it’s your turn. Cant imagine what you’ll be seeing when they give you morphine button – Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds i fear

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