The Boxer

The boy may not be a political heavyweight but he looks like he's gone a few rounds.

Puffy black eyes, swollen cheeks and a fat lip. The immediate after effects of the surgery are making themselves visible. He's spent most of the day asleep with short periods awake. He clearly doesn't want to move as this makes his head hurt. But he has to be turned every few hours to stop the blood settling too much on one side. He hates this and has a few tears.

He's only had one significant time awake - when auntie was here. He wanted to cuddle little panda and point out little panda's head bandage. He even managed a wan smile. But he has no interest in sitting up or doing anthing that requires any effort on his part. He does want to hold hands which is lovely.

You always end up eating too much bad food in hospital. So, for a bit of variety, I went out for fish and chips. On the way back I was accosted by a man. "Boss. Boss" he said. Oh no. He wants a cigarette or some money for a cup of tea or his bus fare (for which read alcohol). But I was wrong. "Have you got the drugs?" He looked quite put out when I said I hadn't. Strange
end to the day.