Execution

Sitting in my spider infested cell, waiting for the hours of darkness to pass and then as the pale sun breaks I will take the long walk to meet my maker. That's how it feels. In thirty two years of teaching, I have never had a single day off for health reasons...that is until tomorrow when I begin a ten day spell of absence following a hospital operation.

I have been waiting for it since January. It all harks back to the e-coli infection I had last summer. Investigations at the time and after Christmas showed that my urinary functions are not A1. My bladder never empties completely. I have to have surgical intervention. The operation is, I understand, called a urethrotomy. What a horrible word! And what a horrible idea. General anaesthetic and strangers fiddling around in your nether regions when you are dead to the world.

After England trounced Andorra 6-0 this evening, I was straight down the pub. I could have happily consumed a firkin of ale to blot out the idea of this forthcoming surgery. I hate hospitals and white-coated people with stethoscopes. To add insult to my psychological injury, they are putting me in a private hospital because my government waiting time window is about to end. I have always been a fervent supporter of the UK's National Health Service and I hate the idea of lying in a bed meant for the self-congratulating rich. The thing is that if I had waited for the NHS Hospital, the operation might have been delayed till August. The prospect of reaching a point where you simply cannot urinate does not bear thinking about.

Of course, it could all go wrong and this could be my last post. Can you hear the bugle? Undoubtedly, there is no God but God-willing I will blog again at the weekend. Pray for me fellow bloggers. Pray for me. I can already hear my warders' footsteps in the corridor.