To the hospital this morning for the removal of a Mole by local anaesthetic.
Arrived at 10.45am. Waited an hour, no-one came for us. So I went to find someone and told them my husband had threatened to go home if we had to wait much longer.
They didn`t even know we were there. The person who had shown us to the Day Waiting Room hadn`t booked us in.
Apologies all round.
Dhiren was gowned, obs were taken, and he was asked to sign a consent form. He was a bit confused when he was asked first for his signature and then to print his name underneath. He signed, and then signed his full name underneath. No matter, it was accepted.
He was wheeled down to the operating theatre on a stretcher. He was there for an hour.
When he was brought back to the ward he was fine. Awake, alert, not in any pain, and wanted to get dressed and go home there and then.
He had to be persuaded to wait half an hour, and have a cup of tea and a biscuit before getting dressed. He got dressed without any trouble and was ready for home.
The ward sister gave me some discharge paperwork, including a note for the district nurse who will visit tomorrow.
There were tick boxes for, among other things, his `Mental State`.........Lucid/Confused? Lucid had been ticked.
He wanted to go home. A porter and wheelchair were reccommended. Dhiren became stroppy, refused to wait, refused a wheelchair, so we came home. It was 3pm.
Once we were home, I put the kettle on and phoned Paul. When I came off the phone I found Dhiren, trousers round his ankles, examining the dressing.
`What is this for?` He asked. ` What happened?`