Todays update.
I've been grounded
and feel like a naughty school boy.
Tried in vain to tell the nurse for 2 hours that I wanted to go to the loo and not crap into a bucket on the ward. The toilet being all of 10 feet away. I tried to simulate her taking my IVs off so I could make it there but she wouldn't.
So I did it myself. I'm not sure what she said when she found out but I don't think she was happy.
Boldened by my not shitting myself in bed success I decided to get mobile. Using my fantastic drawing ability and some spare paper I had I successfully presented a case for some crutches so as I put it I could venture to the toilet and back without the need for help.
An hour later and some shiney crutches were mine. I was free again and true to my word used them to get to the toilet - then I got demob happy.
Putting on the only pair of trousers I was wearing that day to survive the paramedic scissors I well sort of went accross the road to a shop. Not that the hospital food is bad but there is only so much soup one man can take and I really fancied some Sprite.
Got back to the ward to find a not too happy porter wondering where I was. Oh eck. So now I've lost the privledge of the crutches. Damn it. Today was a trial run, tommorrow as they've now told me I'll be here till Tuesay was to track down the bike. The guys were foolish enough to leave me with details of its location, google maps thinks its about a mile and a bit each way - which I think it doable.
In any case its a moot point as I think I'm under house arrest for the rest of my stay here
Though I did get a success. The insurance comapny have agreed today that any medic flight back to the UK will be from Malaga and the taxi will definatly stop by the bike on the way so I can see it (told them my passport was in its panniers and I had the key, in truth I just want to go and see it).
Well if it was your bike what would you want to do?