On the Tuesday, they discharged me. It was an odd experience. The night before I’d been told by Dr Lovely (a remarkably well-presented Doctor called Euan) that it was “a viral meningitis” and that my “meninges” were definitely swollen. He managed to say “meninges” without smirking, and I loved him all the more. He said he’d do his best to send me home to rest for a week or two the next day.
The next day Dr Lovely returned with the consultant. Who told me it wasn’t meningitis, just “a viral infection” and that I should really retest for AIDS as I had no white blood cells. I decided I hated the consultant then and there.
I walked home from the hospital. Frankly, felt too weak and weird to be bothered with calling a taxi, and the cold fresh air seemed nice. Of course, by the time I got home I was talking to myself. And not coherently.