My final post before my op tomorrow really needs to be an upbeat one. So here goes, a repeat of some of the banter that’s been going on in our house in the past few days.
Me: I have to be at the hospital at 6am on the day of the operation.
Him: Uh, what time do the buses start?
Me: The plastic surgeon says I won’t be able to leave hospital until I can dress myself and have a shower unaided.
Him: Did she say anything about ironing and light dusting?
Friends have offered to cook meals and bring them round to the house while I’m in hospital or once I’m back home recovering. This is a lovely gesture, but these generous souls are clearly under the mistaken impression that I do most of the cooking. In fact my husband does… and he’s fussy.
Him: I want to know what they’re bringing before I commit.
Laughter really is the best medicine. I’m pretty sure he’s joking on all three counts. He’d better be.