vifferman

My wife came and picked up me and my assorted bleongings and paraphernalia (my 'baby' - a cushion to clutch to my chest when coughing, sneezing, farting, or getting in/out of bed; a peak-flow measuring device, and a big bag of droogz), and we headed off home. It was less than a week, but it felt very strange and scary to be out'n'about. It was also rather weathery, after being in a climate-controlled environment.
We went for a long trek in the neighbourhood (about 40m left, then back past our house, then 50m the other way, then returned) and I had to wear three layers of clothes, despite the sun and mild temperatures.
My first home-cooked meal was a goodun: it turned out scrambled eggs and salmon (with zero condiments) tasted pretty much like scrambled eggs and salmon.
Dinner was less successful: blandness being the order of the day, and while this made the meal palatable, and despite the vifferbabe''s best efforts, it wasn't too enjoyable.

I was pretty tired from my exciting homecoming, and retired to bed early. However, sleep largely eluded me: getting in/out of bed was difficult without the apparatus to tilt, bend, fold and mutilate it. Also, getting comfy was almost impossible. The worst thing was I hadn't asked for a prescription for sleeping tablets, which I'd had to take most nights in hospital.
Actually, that wasn't the worst thing: I'd had another bout of atrial fibrillation, and without a nurse to dose me with drugs, my attempt to sleep it off failed. At 6 the next morning, a tearful vifferman had to concede defeat and call for an ambulance.
So, by 7 am, after less than a day at home, I was delivered to the Emergency Department of North Shore Hospital.

Yay....