Mr H’s Recovery

… is going rather slowly. Having had his op last Saturday, the copious groaning and emanating of pain from the top floor hasn't started to subside as yet.

Think it was rather more grim and long-lasting than either of us had quite expected. He's caught between being proud that he had 3 whopping pile-nasties removed (the norm is 2) and horror that it's going to take longer and feel worse than for many people. The painkillers have been given a thorough beating, so much so that when they run out tomorrow I suspect I may have to go and do a dodgy drugs deal on a street corner for some more, as I really can't face going back to bleddy Parkside.

And it's not looking good for him coming with me, Janine & Ross to the Paris Open. We go on Sunday morning and right now I'd say its 10/90 against Hawksey being able to come too. Poo! Or maybe I should use that word more cuatiously when on this subject..

Fingers crossed for a miraculous recovery between now and Sat night – but if I was a betting woman I'd be suggesting anyone reading this give him a call at home on Sun/Mon/Tues as he will have been abandoned.. Bless.

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