It was the Friday before the long weekend and I realised, as I was leaving the hospital, that it would be the last time I saw all the working-week staff: physios, OTs, secretaries, etc.
Throughout the long weekend very little happened. It was even quieter than a normal weekend. On Sunday, dad told me he could not sleep at night. He was so excited at coming home. He didn't want to complain about anything in case it affected his leaving date.
He did have indigestion though. A nurse came round to give him an ECG. I watched as she labouriously placed sticky tabs on my dad's chest, consulting a diagram as she went. Then a more senior nurse came over and moved all the tabs on to different places. "Look at the diagram next time!" she told the other nurse.
There was nothing unusual in his ECG and so dad relaxed. I left him at the end of visiting hours. I would be in France by the time dad was discharged. I silently said goodbye to the hospital, thanking it for its help but very glad not to see it again.
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