Easy As Getting Back On A Bike.
by Bonzi (Mum's out riding)
part: 31 doz.

It was friday morning and I was laying on top of my bed trying to read Cycling Weekly while I waited for the decision from the consultant. Two of the women with whom I shared the four bed unit were talking at volume and were making it harder to concentrate.

"But our Vera, says I should do more of it."

"It'll make you sore though, won't it?"

"Not if I lubricate it proper like."

Although I was trying to ignore them, this snippet caught my imagination and I had to know more.

"What with?"

"Dunno, maybe Vaseline or talc."

Talc? What is she lubricating? I tried to return to my article on the Giro d'Italia, but concentrate I could not.

"Talc is awful messy."

"Yeah, that's what my hubby says, gets everywhere."

My mind was definitely boggling - surely you can't put talc there, can you?"

"I got him to put some padding on it to make it bigger."

What? Gee whizz, what could she be talking about.

"Won't you have difficulty getting it in?" asked her friend.

I put the magazine down my focus was now on the conversation between two middle aged overweight ladies. It was fascinating.

"Yeah, it's so big, it rubs on my thigh."

At this point, I almost lost it. I lay back on the bed trying to laugh silently. There were tears running down my face and anyone seeing me would have thought I was having a fit.

"I'll have a word with the physio, see if she can make it easier for me."

"That's a good idea, save your 'ubby some effort."

"Yeah, it takes up too much time first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He's too tired by then."

I had to sit up, I was in danger of choking myself through laughing. What a way to go?

"Maybe it's 'im what needs the physio?"

"Yeah, could be right there, 'e can't get his leg over at the end of the day."

At this point I fell off the bed. Bloody hell, the floor was hard. I lay there for a moment getting my bearings before getting up, when I saw a pair of legs riddled in varicose veins standing in front of me.

"You all right, luv? I can't really 'elp you up, my hys'trectomy in't 'ealed yet, and me friend can't get her false leg on, so she's called the nurse."

"I'll be okay, thanks for asking." I was half way back up when the nurse came in.

"What's the prob, Glad?"

"It's not me nurse, it's the young 'un at the end, she fell outta bed."

"I'm okay, I just leant back too far and over balanced."

The nurse gave me a quick look over. "You've got a couple of bruises coming up, I'll get an ice pack. So how come you came to fall?"

"I was laughing at the joke in the magazine, and leant back without seeing where I was on the bed. It's quite high up, isn't it?"

I was now sitting on the bed, and the bruises were starting to hurt. I tried to work out what they were talking about, which my dirty mind had misconstrued. It had to be Gladys' artificial leg. It was just so funny the way it came out.

A young doctor came to check me out, "How did you fall out of bed?"

"I didn't, I fell off the bed. I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing, leant back and fell off. It's entirely my own fault."

"You're supposed to be discharged today, according to your notes."

"Absolutely, can you do that?"

"No, you need to see the consultant, or his registrar."

"Is that Dr Kelly?"

"The registrar is."

"That should be okay then." I felt happier.

"Dunno, the old man sometimes overrides his registrars."

"But not today. I need to get home, I've been here too long now."

"Miss Watts, please don't be in too much of a hurry, you were pretty ill you know."

"So you lot keep telling me."

"You had ten units of blood."

"What?"

"Practically a complete oil change."

"That's a bucketful!"

"Oh, more than that, you had a few units of saline and dextrose too."

"Bloody hell."

"I saw you admitted, it was touch and go and I have never seen so much blood. No, I tell a lie, when a guy's aorta went, it sprayed everywhere. All up the walls, what a mess that was. Yours came from the wound and your attempts to breathe. You could have bled to death or drowned in your own blood."

"Isn't that what happened to Nelson?"

"Sort of, I believe. Anyway, back to you. The wound is stable so I expect you'll be able to go today, but don't 'old your breath, just in case."

"Okay, thanks." He pulled the curtain back and the two old biddies asked how I was.

"I'm okay thanks, just a few bruises. So hopefully, I'll be home later today."

"Lucky you," said Gladys, "I'm likely to be another week at least, through this sodding leg." She lifted her surgically shortened leg into the air. "Damn ulcer won't bloody heal, tried everythin', we ave, my 'ubby even put new padding in the artificial one, but it was too tight for me stump. He couldn't push it 'ard enough to get it in, an' 'e couldn't get his leg over mine and climb up on the bed, since 'e 'urt 'is back."

"That's bad luck," I said desperately trying to keep a straight face, any more of this and I'd possibly fall off the bed again.

Padraig walked in, "Catherine Watts, you can go home, just try not to hurt yourself before Stella comes to get you. She's coming in an hour. Here's the discharge letter for your doctor. See you later - oh, no cycling for at least a month."

"See you later," I said trying to pretend I hadn't heard him.

"You did hear me?"

"My hearing is fine," I retorted trying to ignore him.

"Good, because if Stella tells me you've been out on a bike, I'll personally use you for vivisection."

"You'd have to catch me first," I said and smiled.

"I'd probably manage that, I've raced for the South of England team."

Oh poo, trust me to throw a challenge to someone more than capable of doing it.

"You ride for the university?" He asked me.

"I have done once, against Southampton."

"My old alma mater. Did you win?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, not the force it used to be."

"It was a women's race."

"Ah that explains it." So saying he turned and left.