I went out and bought loads of chocolate tonight. I found out I'm gonna be stuck in here till Tuesday so I thought the least I could do was gorge myself. I asked the nurse who has been teaching me Thai if she wanted anything and set off downstairs to the mini-mart. I bought quite the quantity of chocolate, a phone card, had a look around the foyer of the hospital with various bodies strung out in the chairs, and made my way back upstairs.
I found my nurse measuring up some syringes and gave her two large bags of chocolate with the instructions that she was to share them with the rest of the gang. The nurse next to her took no time in pointing out that although I had bought 2 bags of chocolate, there were 5 nurses. This is a person who's responsibility's involve sticking sharp objects into me and making sure I'm not too horrendously disfigured after all this is over.
I smiled sweetly and said I would buy more next time.
However, like every silver lining has a cloud, and every Bruce Dickinson album has filler tracks, there is a moment of woe in this story of chocolate exuberance.
It is now half past one in the morning and I'm wide awake.
I decided to do some more writing to pass the time and sat down on my leather sofa bed, perched my laptop on my knees and began. But wait I thought, after mere moments. Am I not paying over a hundred pounds a night for this room. And does this room not come with an adjustable bed. And do I not have a table that I can wheel over the bed.
Thrice yes was the answer, and so I am now sat in a slightly supine position, legs raised, laptop held in place inches above my legs and feeling utterly relaxed . . . and . . if I close my eyes . . rather suave.