The next couple of days drifted past in discomfort and boredom, and the fact I was in a public ward with four other men did nothing to alleviate it. My right leg in its cast felt as if it weighed a metric ton, and I wasn’t permitted out of bed, even for the most basic of body functions. I quickly came to hate the sight of the bedpan.
I’d tried to tell Sister Green that I didn’t need the pain medication, but she ignored me, and after the drip was discontinued, it seemed she took great pleasure in poking me in the arse.
“You will stop giving Sister a difficult time, and allow her to give you your pain medication,” Mr Bathurst snapped at me after he’d been called in. He was the surgeon who’d put my ankle back together again.
“But that stuff leaves me feeling as if my head is stuffed with c
