Pads got out last evening for a trip to the hospital concourse and 'lake', near the main entrance. Things are going quite well enough to be thinking realistically about getting him home next week.
I think the ward will miss him, especially now he's back to his dry chirpyness. The medics were hunting in packs on the ward-round this morning. The consultant on duty asked how his bottom was doing (a routine and vital concern) and could he take a look, with some allowance for the fact that this might feel awkward in front of such an entourage. Having been roused from sleep for this, after another disturbed night, Pads wryly agreed, on condition he could return the question. After the room had regained its equilibrium, the stand-off was resolved by a mutual verbal affirmation of skin integrity.
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