Balls and b*st*rds

I managed to go and see Ted today. He looks somehow stronger than before while simultaneously closer to death. His skin is almost transparent and his face seems drawn in and skeletal - (gaunt may be the word I'm looking for) - but he is moving much better than I've seen him in months and was even able to spring out of his chair in a sprightly fashion to greet me. He's on new heart pills, and is also 'getting help with his painful arthritis' so maybe there's some medication coursing through his system that is making him appear more upright, but whatever it is, it's better than having him laying in hospital for days on end while Beryl tries to prepare herself for a funeral.
He said the worst thing about being kept in was 'the lack of tasty nurses' so that shows you how forthcoming he was about his feelings in consideration of the fact that he nearly died. Being a man of his age and his upbringing, it doesn't surprise me that he wouldn't want to discuss anything emotional, but it was quite an ordeal to go through and I'm surprised he didn't have more to say about it. Snooker was discussed more than health, and he was telling he 'it's good for the sport' that someone new is world champion, but also found it hard to hide his disgust at the fact that the hospital staff refused to let him watch it late at night.
"I was in an ideal situation to be watching a long tournament and the bastards insisted on rationing me. Two hours at a time, and nothing after 9pm. Bastard NHS." I believe that was the phrase he used, (although there may have been a few more 'bastards' in there than I've given him credit for).
It was good to see him though, and hopefully he'll be around for a few more visits yet...

RC 19/20-5-23