So, life picks you up, twists you round, throws you off the edge of a cliff, at which point you realise a lot of your perceptions were coming from a rather more time and reality limited place than you imagined. You respond accordingly, initally screaming as you fall, the doppler effect in play as the sounds of your own internal workings distort in passing through. Reaching out, your fingers clawing thin air yet finding more arms holding you than you imagined. Then you find yourself doing things you didn’t think you would and failing to comprehend what seemed entirely logical only moments earlier.
It takes you, places you in the arms of some medical angels who cradle you and soften the fall, not only showing you the worst case scenario was not, but carve you out a new place, remove the poison, treat you like a delicate model aeroplane and ready you again for flight, once the glue has set. They surround you with honest and well considered scientific love and send you on your way, bemused, twisted round again, reminded to appreciate what life you have before you have not.
On a more pragmatic and less metaphorical note, results Thursday, treated the following Monday in hospital extremely professionally, mainly for having the guts to phone and ask if they ever have cancellations (every day apparently). Two object lessons there. Firstly, for all various governments attempts to destroy the NHS they can sometimes be fantastic, and still second to none (I’ve never had such professional, considerate and well executed treatment), and secondly, never be afraid to advocate for yourself and to ask questions.