Day one of days in the life of a recuperating hip replacement patient

Day one

I am actually writing day one on day two.  I did not have access to any of my ifriends yesterday. Apparently such gadgets are not welcome in operating theatres - who would have known!  Day one was a mixture of  extreme boredom,  abject terror and food and caffeine deprivation as I waited for things to kick off.  I had a mother and son chat with my anaesthetist.  No he is not my son, but I put on my stern voice because I wanted him to take me seriously.  I wanted him to understand that I would not tolerate being even vaguely aware of what was happening to me while in theatre and I certainly did not want to hear  any noises such as hammering and sawing.  He passed on these instructions to my surgeon and between them they did a wonderful job as the whole procedure was over very quickly and I woke up feeling wonderful and completely free from pain.  If someone had suggested a quick jog along the corridors, I would have put my hand up.   Oh yes, they pass out good drugs in this place.
The night proved to be more interesting. Although I had requested a single room I was put in a four bed ward with three snorers, one of whom was also a sleep-talker and ALL of them did other things involving air.  Too much information?
I dispatched John to the nurses station to jump up and down (I will not be jumping up and down, sideways or back to front for the foreseeable future) and the first available room is mine.  PLEASE let it be soon.
Needless to say I did not get a single zed all night.  My night nurse  is lovely.  She is Oirish and when she speaks music comes out of her mouth.  I do so love the Irish accent.  At 12.30am Oirish sings through the curtains followed by two male nurses to roll me in the bed and check for pressure spots.
One loses all sense of dignity in hospital.  As I rolled, my hospital gown gaped (as they do) and all I could think of was Jack Nicholson's rear end in the movie 'Something's Gotta Give'. If you have seen this funny movie you will know what I mean. At 4.30am that Irish nurse arrives again with her rolling henchmen, just as I had closed my eyes with the chance of falling asleep.  At this point I gave up all hope of sleep and reached for my book