Shall I tell you a secret? Come closer. No, not that close... Sorry, it's for your benefit, actually. I haven't had a bath or a shower for two weeks. It's been the oily-rag-time-routine all that time. Didn't bother with that plastic bag contraption, after last time round. Can't afford to get that little metal rod poking oot ma wee toe, all rusty. Dear me, no. What would that lead to? A lot worse than a bit of toe-curling, I tell you. So, I have been ultra-careful in the ablutions department. In fact, I would venture to suggest that I could pass an OFSTED inspection for ablutions, with flying flannels.
But I am bored with very careful washing. I yearn for the carefree liberation of splash-and-go in the shower, or for wallowing in the womb-like warmth of the bath. And I thought that today was the day that my surgeon would remove the metal rod that is in my little toe and send me for a prolonged dunk in the bath.
But I don't listen.
Two weeks to have the stitches removed. Four to six weeks to have the metal removed. So in two weeks' time, just before Christmas I say goodbye to Rod. The ninth reindeer.
 |
| And Rod, obvs. |
No comments:
Post a Comment