Discharged

I'm now officially discharged. No need for any more visits back to hospital, this final time to Seacroft on the outskirts of Leeds. It's always a little disconcerting to see the X-rays, revealing the many little screws that were needed to bind together the fractured pieces of my skull. The verdict is that I've had a very good result. The physical damage is cleanly and fully repaired. There's probably another nine months for the more subtle damage to heal, as far as it's ever going to heal.

I've been lucky in my life never to have spent much time in hospitals. They are sobering places, and I find their long corridors especially so. It's all those signs pointing to whole departments with names that mean nothing to me. It speaks of the incredible complexity of the human body and the myriad ways in which it can go wrong. I come away amazed that, for the most part, we function as well as we do. And incredibly grateful, that barring collisions with cars and walls, I have always enjoyed the most robust of good health. It was a day full of very mixed emotions.