Bloody great! I spend a couple of hundred pounds getting my arse over to England to support my dear old mum when she has to go into hospital for an operation, to replace a knee, and four hours before I'm due to take her in, the hospital phone to cancel it.
At her age this is not an insubstantial operation and over the last few months she's been psyching herself up for it.
Now normally I'm a cheery kinda soul but not right at this minute.
Still, it's quite a bit cooler than at home (said he trying to think positively).
1 comment:
What a complete pisser. As if proof were needed that the French system is superior to the UK one, here you have it, clear as day.
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