A Journey

My current journey to the hospital is annoying. There are two older ladies of pensionable age, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there is somebody else on the bus. Their conversation, which even my music could not block out, went something like this:

Knee Replacement Lady: It’s just so uncomfortable on here, they don’t seem to think about people with serious problems like me, I’ve just had a knee replacement.

Me: [I smile warmly, head supported by pillow] It won’t be much longer.

Hip Replacement Lady: You’ve just had a knee replacement? I had my hip done three months ago. I disc-o-later my hip. I’ve had three hips.

Knee Replacement Lady: It’s debilitating. It’s been a month and I can’t do anything. It’s so serious.

Hip Replacement Lady: I know. I cannot go outside when it rains. I might disc-o-late my hip again. It’s been three months. It’s too long. It’s life changing. I don’t want another operation. I have had four hips in three weeks.

Knee Replacement Lady: People don’t understand how serious it is. My leg is swollen and I have to keep it straight. I have had to have five blood tests.

Hip Replacement Lady: Well, I had to go in last week as well, it’s too much. I cannot drive… And the doctors don’t tell you anything. No one told me I disc-o-lated my hip in theatre. They told my daughter, but not me.

Knee Replacement Lady: What doctor did you have?

Hip Replacement Lady: The coloured one.

Knee Replacement Lady: Me too.

Hip Replacement Lady: How do you do the injections?

Knee Replacement Lady: The blood thinners? Oh it is awful. The district nurse comes in to do it because I cannot bear it. My daughter faints when she sees a needle. I’m black and blue all over from it.

Hip Replacement Lady: I do my own. They are fine. I don’t need a district nurse. I have my daughters. Where do you have the injections?

Knee Replacement: Oh, just in my arm.

And then the conversation is repeated, with the added bonus of them talking about how much they love ‘Take Me Out’.

Now then, I do not want to take away the fact that the ladies have and are experiencing pain and discomfort, but it is a pain with a foreseeable end. They were in the bus for physiotherapy, I was not. It may be irrational, but I just wanted to interrupt their conversation of whinging to say, ‘try stepping in my young, incurable shoes; it’s no breeze. Oh, and shut up’.

I should probably talk to my counsellor about this next week. It’s my anger and lack of sleep talking. Maybe.

EJB x

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