Well that's it. Don't expect me to put myself through
that again. I couldn't fault the staff at Launceston General
Hospital; they were all that could be expected, and more. They even found
me a serving of sticky date pudding when I finally emerged from the theatre.
But the whole rigmarole is demeaning and unpleasant, and I don't see why I need
to put myself through it. Even if I get a personal letter from the
Prime Minister, I'll just politely say, No, thanks!
I haven't thought of Arthur Clough for years but I remember
he wrote a poem which said:
Thou shalt not kill; but need'st not strive
Officiously to keep alive:
That's a philosophy I can relate to. Who needs well-meaning individuals making
decisions on your behalf? Just because I’m
81, doesn’t mean I’m ga-ga. I am
perfectly capable of making my own decisions and I don’t need some well-meaning
dill in an office deciding what I should be doing.
Having said that, I certainly feel better.
No comments:
Post a Comment