Where's My Walking Stick?
Yesterday I spent nine hours at the hospital. An environment enough to turn your head to mush, and leaving you stiff from sitting down too long. Tour de hospital is a speciality. Now we have a new condition to work with, and to fill the kitchen cupboard adopted medicine cabinet.
The doctor prescribed mum yet more tablets, and asked me to go upstairs to the hospital pharmacy whilst he continued to treat her. The prescription had mum's name plus date of birth, as well as the name of the drugs.
I walk upstairs and give this to the pharmacist, who examines the paper.
"Is this for you?"
"Er, no. Its for my mother"
Yes I know I'm ancient, but even I would struggle to look hitting seventy.