I’m discharged on day two from UCL Hospital.  We go through the same procedure of waiting for three hours for meds and papers.  Tom looks at this chaos with astonishment.  A woman works away trying to locate the drugs which have got stuck somewhere between the pharmacy, the ward and the windowless room in which we all wait.  She is unfailingly polite and sympathetic.  Tom says kindly to her, “this has to be the worst job in the world you are doing…” She tells him she only has to do it twice a week otherwise she would go mad.

Home-Help-LESS

Down those terrible basement stairs, we descend once more.   Tom never leaves my side for the next four days.  Here’s a picture of him trying to put on those awful Compression socks.  They have a hole at the end of the foot which means that toes are constantly sticking out. Presumably this is a design purely to irritate the patient.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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