This is beginning to feel like a nightmare rollecoaster ride. You can't get off, you can't stop, you just have to keep hoping that it will be over soon. Yesterday started off well. My friend Kate arrived at 6am to help get Geoff into his car - he and I left the house at 6:25. We arrived in plenty of time at my son's house in Kenilworth for breakfast. His wife made lovely oats porridge and he ate before seven, because after that nil by mouth until the operation. This operation was going to be a success. Plastic surgeon Dr Landau called in a Dr du Toit from Grootte Schuur Hospital who was the very best, he said, and Doc Landau himself would be assisting. Now, we had a very narrow window for this operation. Dr du Toit was leaving for America soon after, and Dr Landau was taking well-deserved leave. So Geoff had to be squeezed in this day. He had to have an emergency covid test to make sure he could enter the hospital (all of us forgot about that) but it was fine, was negative. Then he waited until 1pm. At one o' clock, he was told the skin graft donor sites on his thighs have become infected. That was where the flap was to have been taken from. So they could not proceed. I went to see him in hospital and he was in the ICU in an isolation ward getting intravenous antibiotics because the bacteria (bacterium) was MRSA. Of course I googled it and saw it is the superbug that is usually hospital-acquired. I had no idea - hadn't heard of it before, but anyway, Geoff is in hospital and I'm washing all the stuff he touched on the hottest cycle on my machine. Well I hope it's all and that I haven't been busily spreading this bacteria to everyone around me.
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