Last night I slept in the spare bedroom, propped up high like the hospital bed, my defunct drain bottle hanging down the side of the bed doing bugger all.  I had a pretty good sleep, woke a couple of times but listened to my touchy-feely meditation thing a few times and soon nodded off.  

I feel really good today, had a visit from my lovely little neighbour who brought me some beautiful freesias. A friend I know from walking in the park brought this bunch of tulips.   Some Stocks arrived by post and a Gerbera plant was delivered by a courier.   Bloomin-tastic.

I feel really good, have done the mobility exercises with ease, they are not especially taxing.  

The district nurse was due to rock up today at an unspecified time.  Around noon, I was sitting on the sofa when I was suddenly soaking wet, like I'd had a bowl of water thrown over my side.   Panic!   It wasn't bloody, it was clear.   I called the district nurse number, explained what had happened and was told by the operator that someone would come out, she then said 'are you okay?' I said 'I don't know if I'm okay, how do I know if this is okay'.  She then got a bit defensive saying she was just an administrator and not in a position to give medical advice.   I told her I wasn't looking for advice but she'd asked if I was okay and I was answering that question.  

The nurse arrived about 20 minutes later.  She was not listening to me about the bottle losing its vacuum since last night and said several times that she'd check the vacuum.  She didn't know what to do about me being soaking wet and had to call the hospital for advice which didn't fill me with confidence.  They told her to remove the drain so it's out now and she said she'd diarise for someone to come and change the dressing on Monday.  Seems a long time to me but what do I know?