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hospital terror as aunt sadie lets rip

I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. A crick in my neck and my other half telling me that my bum actually did look big in my jeans hadn't helped. "You bleedin' asked," he replied when I shouted at him.

A couple of minutes later my mother phoned to tell me that my Aunty Sadie had had a stroke and was in hospital. Aunty Sadie is 94 years of age and is known far and wide for her feisty personality and sharp tongue. A stroke could really put an end to all of that.

I asked Patsy to come with me to the hospital for support which she really didn't want to do, because she feels Sadie doesn't approve of her. "She once told me I was too loud and it wasn't just my clothes, but my big gob as well." Nevertheless, being a good friend, she came with me.

I didn't really know what to expect when I got there but it was something along the lines of a frail figure in the bed, slurring speech and a vacant look in her eyes. Instead, Sadie was sitting up in the chair, fully dressed in a beautiful hand-knitted cardie with her hair newly coiffed and her eyes bright as a button.

She gave Patsy the evil eye before saying to me, "You took your time getting here. I'm going out of my mind with boredom." She then proceeded to give us a blow by blow account of the other patients. She is slightly deaf so her voice has the same decibel count as a chainsaw.

"Do you see that one over there," she said, pointing to a lady fast asleep. "She's half dead. She won't see the light of day again."

I asked her to keep her voice down, but to no avail. "And as for that one across from me. Roared all night and then ate a whole box of Roses and never offered one and me sitting here with my tongue hanging out."

Pasty's face was red with embarrassment but there was more. "That poor woman beside me has to have brain surgery, but I'd say it won't take long because there doesn't seem to be much of a brain in there."Patsy had her head in her hands while I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. We were saved by the arrival of the speech therapist.

"What are you here for?" Sadie roared.

"To help you improve your speech," she replied. We were out the door and down the lift faster than Usain Bolt.


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