Things I learned in hospital

1. Peter Andre publishes his own Christmas magazine, which is so popular (or unpopular; I don't know how these things work) as to be displayed in a special pop-out display stand in the WHSmiths in Alder Hey Hospital. (I admit to having a touch of the Jens (she maintains a soft spot for the unlikely Charlie Sheen) for Peter Andre, despite how ridiculous he continues to be. In that, you know, I hope he's eating well, and that his business ideas do not all go belly up. Still, it did not move me to buy his Christmas magazine.)
   
   
2. When you spend two weeks sleeping on a Wiskaway, three things are very helpful.
• An eye mask.
• An MP3 player with relaxing stuff on it, to block out the sounds of the ward. I listened to the opening of Arthur Conan Doyle's The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle roughly 49 times (based on going back to bed three/ four times each night for 14 nights) and still can't tell you what happened beyond the first five minutes with the hat.
• Your own blanket and pillow. There's something very special in a sterile environment about having your own textiles, even if they were bought from Matalan and would never be featured on a style blog.
  
  
3. Before going into hospital, it is important to make the right sort of friends. This process can start - both online and in real life - up to 11 years before the actual event. The kind of people you are looking for include:
• Friends who will source magazines from home which do not involve Peter Andre.
• Ones who will wittily answer idiotic texts about nothing at 10pm at night. These friends make up for the fact that the only adult conversation you have had all day was a discussion about bed pan positioning.
• Friends who will sneak miniature bottles of booze into the hospital under the guise of 'gifts for the patient'.
• Ones who send parcels of home-sewn goodies so thoughtful and immediately relevant that you could swear they can see your every move on some kind of karmic CCTV.
• People who send emails, blog comments, cards and texts expressing their love and care. Most of them have been left unanswered in the chaos and stress of the last few weeks. If you are one of these people, please know that every single one has been appreciated, and has made us feel incredibly supported and loved.
  
  
4. It is possible to learn to love salad, especially if that is the only thing that you have bought to eat.
   

Just to add:  Eldest is doing well, and pressing on with her physio despite the pain she is in. She is a little star.