FUNNY BONE

I’m lying in my hospital room. It’s not even 24 hours since my leg was amputated. As I come round, I feel a pressing need. My bladder feels like a ten-pin bowling ball. I push the buzzer to call for the nurse.

‘Are you all right, Marc?’

‘I’m busting for a pee. Can you give me a hand to the loo?’

‘Hold on. I will be right back.’

She disappears and I try not to think about it. Then, a couple of minutes later, she comes back. But she is not alone – she has brought with her another nurse and Sister Benedict, the octogenarian nun who is in charge of my ward.

‘I only need to go for a wee,’ I say, a little perplexed at the entourage. ‘I just need some help to the loo.’

‘You can’t get out of bed,’ Sister Benedict says. ‘We will have to help you.’