With friends like these who needs enemas?

APOLOGIES for the absence of Patter last Friday but I was inadvertently detained.

My doctor put me into St Vincent’s Hospital for my 10,000km grease and oil change which I am happy to report went well and I’m back firing on just about all cylinders.

So, I do apologise to all Patter readers – all three of you.

Yet, even laying on one’s back in a hospital bed attached to all manner of tubes and beeping things can lend itself to some funny moments.

Fortunately, (or unfortunately, depending on one’s view of what you’re about to read) I have a couple of young friends who have taken it upon themselves to keep me on the straight and narrow – as far as that is humanly possible in my case.

Now, my mates and I consider ourselves Toowoomba’s oldest teenagers but, through this pair, I am forever reminded of the limitations of someone my age, “a dinosaur”, so they tell me..

However, they’re good scouts and they visited me in hospital each day for which I was grateful – if not left psychologically damaged.

These two lasses love a prank and a laugh, particularly at my expense.

Now, without being too dramatic, when I was admitted I was in a lot of pain, my blood pressure was through the roof and I had a temperature. Put bluntly, I wasn’t well. No kidding, laying there on my back, I swear I heard harp music.

During their initial visit, I was flat on my back and they plonked themselves down in chairs beside the bed.

“How are ya, Old Timer?” they asked, which is how they normally address me anyway.

I was explaining my predicament when I started to have what I thought

‘‘ AND, LAYING THERE ON MY BACK, I SWEAR I HEARD HARP MUSIC.

was an out-of-body experience.

The ceiling was getting closer and a bright light was shining in my eyes.

Being brought up Catholic I’d been told about the “bright light” and the levitating from the body.

However, I expected to hear harp music or angels singing but all I could hear was giggling.

One of the pair, who for sake of anonymity we will simply refer to as “Tarz”, had the bed controls and was raising the bed to its maximum height.

The ceiling was indeed getting closer, as was the light.

This bed could be placed into all sorts of positions, head up or down, knees up or down, same with the feet.

By the time she’d finished, I looked like an accordion.

They were both there too when a nurse came to take my blood pressure which only prompted more sledging.

The nurse explained my lack of response was due to the fact I wouldn’t talk during the procedure for fear of generating a false reading.

My not being able to respond just egged the pair on, but the nurse turned the tables when she then took the blood pressure of the two sledgers.

On a very limited diet, mainly liquids with a little solid food, I had missed ordering my dinner so these two “caring” souls went off to a supermarket to get some tucker for me.

Tarz’s partner in crime (and I mean that), who we will simply refer to here as Elo, took to Google to find out what foods I could have. They returned with what could only be described as a smorgasbord: chicken nuggets, meat balls, potato and bacon salad, cheese and crackers, meat sticks...

I’ll never forget the look of horror on my nurse’s face when she spied this feast laid out on my table.

Needless to say, they took the feast home as I could basically have none of it. But it’s the thought that counts.

I can only imagine the reaction of that poor nurse had she been there when I was visited by my shy and sensitive tax accountant who offered to bring up a six-pack of beer.

Fortunately, I was released before the return of the tax accountant.

Medical staff will tell you that when you’re in such a position it’s important to have the support of your family and friends.

With my friends, I’m not so sure.