Not a nice day for dogs or sensitive children, but otherwise rather exciting. I have re-emerged from my operation at the Freeman. During the course of my stay there I was asked my date of birth nineteen times. It seems the operation went ok, although I feel like I’ve been in a fight. As usual there was a wartime spirit on the ward and I had some ferocious buddies there, sharing each others ups and downs. The tea trolley crashed into the ward at regular intervals, waking us all up. Everything was a faded yellow colour, including me. Actually, the nurses were amazing. They were so good looking and capable.They came whenever I rang my bell. I was told everything many times. When I got home I quite missed being told what to do. I longed for the sound of distant polishers, and regular administering of pain killers. The point of this operation is to make me feel better, and although I felt fine before I had it, I have been assured that I wouldn’t have done quite soon.