First thing this morning the doctor says MRSA result are positive again, they can't operate. We must have 5 more days of treatment and two more days for tests, then we try again. Deep gloom all day for beloved. Around 1pm he is settling down for lunch when the nurse takes it away from him. 'You cant eat' says she 'you are just about to go under a general anaesthetic'. Beloved phones me to say that they say he still has MRSA but they will operate anyway. Is this wise? It really doesn't sound it. I tell him he must speak to the doctor (or risk a visit from me in full flow.) to ensure the nurse has got it right. One hour later he calls back to say that they are still hoping to operate and the result are negative, his MRSA has been banished. The doctor looked at the wrong results. I mutter something about hoping that this is not the doctor that is operating (oh, the gall bladder, I thought the appendix had to come out) and fortunately it isn't. If it wasn't for the fact that he is feeling so ill from the anaesthetic and is wearing an oxygen mask then we would be celebrating.
So, in a day or two the home starts to return to normal. He is already teasing that he wont be able to sleep with my snoring as he is used to peace and quiet now but I don't care. If you want the war nth and comfyness of our bed then you can put up with the snoring.
Tomorrow to the market to stock up with fruit, a special request request for navel oranges and pomegranates. I also notice he is taking his health a lot more seriously now, so perhaps extra vegetables too and I can cut down his meat intake.
I finally found the material to start my stitchery project and I find I don't like it and its not a bit how I remembered it. Never mind, seems like I wont be having too many evenings with idle hands anyway, thank goodness.