Tuesday, 19 January 2010

Dulce domum

I see no profit in describing in any detail the agonies that I underwent during the magnet-removal procedure in hospital. Few mortals, I suggest, could have withstood such pain and lived, let alone endured it in the patient and dignified silence which I maintained throughout. At one point I noticed Nurse Desirée and Mrs QO standing together, doubtless finding mutual support during the ordeal which, given their partiality to myself, must have been a significant one indeed.

I should not like it to be suspected that I criticise the care and skill of the doctor who attended to my case. There should be no doubt about it whatsoever! I condemn with what little energy is left to me the barbarous and clumsy treatment I received; had I not been so weakened by my suffering I would have destroyed the soi-disant medic on the spot, and then sought out the institution that, surely as a result of purely financial incitement, issued his alleged qualifications, and burned it to the ground, stamping with relish on the glowing embers. I don't say that everyone would have been so modest in their reactions, but then I have always prided myself on my self-control.

Eventually my oppressor laughed cheerily and said he would leave me for Nurse Desirée to finish off. Alarmed at first, I thought he intended her to administer a coup de grâce, and waved weakly at Mrs QO for her immediate assistance. However, his meaning was evidently that she would complete such tasks as were prefatory to my release, since it was scarcely 30 minutes later that Mrs QO was helping me to the taxi which she had thoughtfully engaged. As we approached the door to the ward, I turned back to the dark beauty who was carefully watching our departure.

'Despite the savagery meted out to me by your colleague, I must thank you, Nurse, for all your kindness. I hope we may meet again some day and continue our earlier discussions. You know. About your...'

At this point a new and sharp pain in my right ear asserted itself. A glance in that direction suggested that the cause was none other than Mrs QO, who had, with an enigmatic smile, taken a firm grasp of the aural appendage in question and was using it as a crude but startlingly effective means of encouraging my progress through the door. Glancing back, I saw Nurse Desirée waving and, strangely, wearing an almost identically enigmatic smile to that worn by my dear wife.

How true it is that: 'Woman-kind, in her heart and mind, sails on a restless ocean.' They are a mystery to themselves as much as to men. What on earth was I to make of the fact that, tucked into my pyjama jacket pocket, was a piece of paper with a telephone number written upon it in a girlish, looping script?

A question for another day. For now, I shall enjoy being back in the quiet peace of home, safe from intrusive medical interference, and able to catch up with my notes.

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