In the ward post-operation, I was still groggy and dozed off.
I awoke to my first family visitors, all concerned, looking woeful. I thanked them and said I was fine, although I probably looked like death itself. Well, that’s how I felt.
When they left I dozed off again, being brought back to life by the surgical team, poking, lifting and looking, the senior honcho explaining to his eager sycophants the this and that.
Then came Edie, my Down Syndrome niece whose beaming sunshine smile said, ‘I love you Nunkie. Please get better soon.’
Guess what? I immediately did.