Well it was a restless night with nurses in and out, draining the catheter bag etc. She didn't stop vomiting blood clots for quite a few hours and snoring like she was on her death bed, a kind of apnoea combined with a hideous death rattle.
At 9am this morning, from the third floor room we are using, I can see the seafront with a fine dull grey coastal mist settled over the slaty waters and nodding boats. The streets are empty and it's clearly going to be a beautiful summer's day. Angela's nausea has now passed and she is just sore and exhausted. Speaking is very difficult due to the various sets of stitches inside her mouth, the constrictive effect of the dressing from the rhinoplasty (they broke her nose), her badly swollen lips and the effect of the cold mask. I can see that her brow is very different but cannot tell how good an outcome she has, we know that the jaw work will be largely invisible until, she has a facelift in six months to remove the loose skin. I can tell from the tip of her nose, peeping through bloody gauze that it is very different, smaller and repositioned.
If she was going to really suffer, then was it last night.
The clinic's nursing staff were exemplary, despite many of the girls not speaking English. It was not a problem.
I told her when she came round if she said
"I bet all the nurses fancy me"
I'd know she was a bullshitter"
She's giggled twice at my predictable jokes. All will be well.
It's just going to be a case of slowly getting her back onto oral fluids and waiting for the swelling to go down.
I'd still like a cup of tea.