We waited...and waited...and waited, but Ellen kept getting displaced by various life-threatening problems--head injuries, ectopic pregnancies, wounded children. It's East London--life is bumpy.
Finally, at 10:30 pm, as I was getting ready to spend the night in the chair next to Ellen's bed, the nursing staff told me they had to throw me out. But then the surgeon called to say that he was coming to see her in ten minutes so I stayed just that little bit longer. By now, Ellen had not had anything to eat or drink in 24 hours and she was feeling pretty rough. No surgery this evening--first thing in the morning. The surgeon was on the night-shift and promised that he would stay on long enough in the morning to make sure she had her operation. I quickly unwrapped the tuna-fish baguette from the shop on the ground floor and Ellen was tucking in (prior to being tucked in) when I left.
I'm going to try to be up as early as possible tomorrow to get down to the hospital. I discovered only today that the nurses have been cutting me a lot of slack in the matter of visiting hours. That's OK--I keep a low profile. You can get away with a lot if you don't add to the nurses' workload.:) So if anyone wants me, I'll be at the former home of the Elephant Man.