Bloody b*st*rding f*ck

  Sunderland Royal Hospital.  The only place in the fucking world where you go for a 15 minute 'routine' gynae procedure, and end up with a DVT, a fucking heart attack (no prior heart problems) and septicaemia.  I mean, why do a pre-op assessment on someone, and check their notes, when you can frigging well guess what her BP might have been?

 Get well soon Mam.  I hope they don't kill you, like they did to your mother.

*cries*

 I'm going to cook now.  Hospital visits distress me so much, and cooking calms me dramatically.