So, I was in pain and in hospital. They admitted me at 11.30pm. D went back to the lodge to get some sleep.
Life in a German hospital for a non-German speaker is difficult to say the least. Early next morning D returned. I was puzzled to see no ski-wear and he told me he was not skiing because he was staying with me. I don't remember a lot about that day. I was incredibly tired after a fitful and painful night and I spent most of the day in tears. D sat there, hour after hour, holding my hand, comforting me, indulging in small talk, and translating for me. I had to be out that night, as everyone was flying home the next day. But I was told my MRI would be the next day and I wouldn't be going home with my friends and colleagues.
The thought of staying in a strange country, in hospital, with a language I don't speak a word of, terrified me. I begged the registrar to change my MRI and although he tried, it remained booked for Thursday. And so the tears started. D made a tactical retreat - although I found out he only went to sort out admin and insurance stuff for me! And packed all my kit. He even made a point of bringing my teddy bear
Such a sweet man. Mid afternoon he came back, took my hand again and comforted me. I have no idea how long he spent at my bedside, but I don't know what I would've done without him. And all day I was getting texts from friends on the slopes.
That evening Female Colleague S and Male Colleague S turned up with - this!
Miles from anywhere and discovering I was still in hospital, my friends had made me a get well card. With a helicopter (for our work!) and mountains and everyone had signed it! I cried again (yep, predictable, aren't I??). MC S made me laugh (which still hurt) and I still owe him a bashing :-)
The next morning there was a flurry of texts and phonecalls as my friends left the country and I stayed in hospital.
Update from GP: Signed off for another week initially and a new prescription for pain pills. Gynae referral for the cysts.