The operation

Dad's account cont...

After a fitful and painful night, I was awakened for a bedbath and an examination by the orthopaedic surgeon, who delighted me by saying that "I had the thigh muscle tone of a 35 year old!" (I don't know whether he says that to everyone?!) I was on the operation list but because both the hospital anaesthetists were held up by the snow they could not guarantee when I would be taken.

However, at 12midday a porter appeared and whisked me off to the operating theatre. I exchanged pleasantries with the anaesthetist, who noticed that I lived in Cammo and said that his mother lived just round the corner from us. Then he smiled benignly and said, "Mr Murray, I'm just going to give you a small injection." The next thing I knew I was waking up back in my own bed feeling deliciously relaxed and with both my feet pointing vertically up - what a relief!

Then Liz came in at visiting time and we exchanged further details of our night of mishaps. I had said to the theatre porter that I had been in Elie for a short break and he joked that I had got "a bigger one than I'd expected!" Ha Ha.