Oh, what a difference a day makes, fans! Things were all going swimmingly, and indeed I was well on the road to recovery when just a few weeks ago I received a fateful visit from the crystal ball gazer known as Georgette del Magico. I mean, honestly, now, who still believes in fortune telling today? After all, aren’t gypsies famous for the great stories they tell their customers? How could I have known that the bohemian’s dire predictions for my life were not, as I thought, a thumping good theatrical performance, but actually real? And worse than that, how could I possibly have guessed how soon they would come to pass? For sure enough, the very next day after Gypsy Georgette’s dramatic vision I found myself back in hospital again, and then before I knew it, by slow degrees everything fell apart…

It all began so innocently. I had turned up at the Outpatients Department in plenty of time for the X-rays that were scheduled to determine how my bones were healing after the accident — or should I say, accidents. The first of these misfortunes had occurred at home, as a result of falling from a ladder while trying to soundproof my ceiling. Then shortly after I was admitted as a patient, some of the doctors (who mistakenly thought I was choking) suspended me from my broken legs to clear my airways, in so doing compounding my injuries. And then finally, yet a third calamity ensued when I tried to get out of bed to go to the pay-phone, instead toppling headlong onto the stone floor where I sustained a minor concussion. I ask you now, how unlucky can a person get? 

Well, as it turns out, quite a lot unluckier than that…

Of course, being an international celebrity I am well accustomed to the flattering attentions of lesser mortals, who commonly stop me in the street to ask for my autograph, or a selfie with their faces next to mine to post on social media. Since arriving here, however, what I have never managed to get used to are the constant interventions of the medical staff that disturb me day and night. I mean, for goodness’ sake, if it isn’t somebody wanting to take my temperature or jab me with a needle at all sorts of ungodly hours, then it’s someone serving breakfast before dawn, or supper when I would normally take my lunch. Believe it or not, the other day I even had a nurse wake me from a deep sleep at six in the evening in order to give me a sleeping pill! 

But if there ever was a REALLY annoying nurse, then surely it would be none other than the aptly named Nurse Glob, who, as per her normal practice, on the day in question was making herself useful by inventing pointless jobs to do. There I was minding my own business, simply sitting in a chair and waiting to be called by the radiologist, when for absolutely no reason at all she brought me an unsolicited cup of tea, whereupon she suddenly tripped and spilled it all over me just as I was taking it from her hand.

 ‘Aaargh! Help, I’m on fire!’ I screamed, leaping to my feet in agony as I clasped my scalded knees.

‘Oh, Lord Grumpkin, I’m so sorry, that was terribly clumsy of me! Here, let me wipe you dry, ’ she responded, pulling out her hanky to dab off the tea.

‘Get that thing off me,’ came my indignant cry, ‘I need a skin graft, not a blanket bath! Someone take me to the Burns Unit before I die of pain!’

‘Now, now then, do try to calm down, Lord Grumpkin, it’s really not that bad. See, your skin is barely even pink, and as everyone knows, applying tea to a burn is in fact an excellent remedy.’

‘What, are you completely mad? With logic like that, I suppose you’d say that a good remedy for a bee sting would be to swallow the bee!’

‘Well, actually…’ But before Nurse Glob could continue she was interrupted by a rather spectacular bird calling me from a nearby room.

‘Grumpkin Rat?’ she enquired, glancing up briefly to note my multiple limb encasements. ‘I’m Dr. Maggie Pie, the radiologist. I understand that you’ve recently had one or two little falls, so let’s see how you’re doing today, shall we?’

One or two little falls? I was just beginning to think that no one here had the slightest respect for the gravity of my condition, when who should appear out of nowhere but my favourite physiotherapist in the whole wide world — the winsome and wonderful Australian practitioner, Aurora Australis!

‘Good day, Grumps, how’s it going? You know, you’re not looking so good. If you’re thinking of losing the plaster casts, you should probably wait a bit longer till your strength comes back.’

‘Well, thank you, Aurora, my thoughts exactly,’ I said, my heart welling up in gratitude at the sound of those words. Oh, what a huge moment this was – she alone had understood me! She had seen past my masquerade of bravery and into the very depths of my soul. But was this merely friendship, or the seed of true love? That wasn’t clear, but it did make me decide one thing: I must at all costs keep up the physiotherapy till I knew the answer for sure…

Meanwhile I had my X-rays as planned, and then returned to the waiting room to allow Dr. Pie enough time to scrutinise them before giving me the verdict. After that, it wasn’t long before she called me back in to explain the situation.

‘Well, I’ll get straight to the point, Mr. Rat,’ she began, taking her laptop and swinging it round to face me. ‘I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem. What you see here is an X-ray of your left leg showing the pins we put in to secure it in the proper position. But as you will notice from the picture, two of the pins have slipped out, meaning that the leg has now started to heal crooked. Of course this is not the result we wanted, and I’m very sorry.’

‘Okay,’ I said, as the message gradually filtered through, ‘but you can fix it, right?’

‘Oh, yes, we can certainly fix it,’ the doctor answered. ‘Unfortunately for you, though, this will mean further surgery.’

‘I need another operation?’ At that, heaviness rolled over me like a tidal wave. Surely this couldn’t be happening! I would squeeze my eyes shut, then when they opened again, none of it would be real. But when they flashed open and I heard the doctor still speaking, I knew I wasn’t dreaming.

 ‘In such a case as yours time is of the essence, so I’ve arranged for you to be admitted today. We can carry out the procedure this afternoon,’ she told me. Then her voice softened, and she peered at me kindly before adding, ‘I realise of course that all of this must come as quite a shock to you, Mr. Rat. Do you have any questions that you’d like to ask me?’

‘Well, yes, there is one, Doctor,’ I replied, as I swiftly gathered up my scattered thoughts. ‘How long is it going to take before I’m back on my feet?’

‘All being well, you could be walking on crutches in just a few days,’ she said, ‘but we must be realistic. Complete healing won’t happen overnight. Sad to say, it’s going to take many weeks till you’re fully back to normal.’

‘Many weeks?’ For a moment I slumped forward in my chair, overwhelmed. Then I looked up and said, ‘Will I still go on having physiotherapy?’

‘Oh, definitely! Physiotherapy is essential to your recovery, so after surgery you’ll be prescribed daily sessions for at least the first six weeks,’ came the answer.

Daily physiotherapy sessions? With this news, at long last I felt a smile slowly break across my face. 

‘Are you in pain, Mr. Rat?’ enquired Dr. Pie in mild surprise.

‘No, actually, all my pain is gone now,’ I said, beaming back at her.

‘It is?’ She appeared sceptical, tipping her head sideways to fix me with a penetrating stare. ‘Well, I’m sorry to say that might be a bad sign, Mr. Rat, so in light of this I think we really need to act immediately. We’re going to have to get you prep’d and into surgery as soon as possible! Please wait outside while I check to see which operating theatre we can use.’

‘What, you mean, now?’

‘Loss of feeling in an injured limb can be extremely serious, Mr. Rat, so if you want to walk again, I’m afraid there’s no time to lose.’

I don’t recall much about what happened after that. But it seems things must have moved along pretty fast, because before I knew it, someone was asking me to count backwards from ten. Well, I tried my hardest to oblige, and in all fairness, I did manage to get back as far as eight. However, it was then that I realised I hadn’t a clue what came next, and despite fighting against it for as long as I could, everything finally went black…

As for the operation itself, despite being prolonged and difficult, this was nonetheless pronounced a resounding success by Dr. Whizzle the Weasel, my orthopaedic surgeon. Following this I was returned to the ward to regain consciousness, where bizarrely, the first awareness that came to me was a powerfully strong smell of lavender.

Lavender? In a hospital? 

No, that had to be a mistake, it just didn’t make any sense! So I prized open my eyelids and squinted carefully around me, trying to solve the mystery. And that’s when I saw it: a huge great lavender plant sitting on the table next to my bed, with a gold ribbon tied around the pot and a little envelope tucked into the bow. Still groggy from the anaesthetic, I reached over and removed the ‘Get well’ card from the envelope, only to discover that by all appearances I had a secret admirer. Well naturally, fans, having admirers is nothing new for me, since as you all know I’m a world famous superstar with a massive fan base. But what was intriguing here was the fact that whoever had written the card had simply signed it with three large X’s, implying something rather more than admiration… and with this I was instantly wide awake!

‘Nurse!’ I called out to a passing member of staff. ‘Did you see who gave me this?’ Then as she shook her head and hurried on to the next patient, I caught sight of Aurora Australis just entering the ward, lowering her eyes to avoid mine. But why wouldn’t she look at me? And then the penny dropped. Of course, I should have guessed it from the start — this enchanting creature was in love with me! That explained the anonymous gift which she must have left as a romantic gesture, hoping that I felt the same way. Oh happy accident that caused our paths to cross, how willingly would I have suffered a thousand falls just to have her near! Then surprisingly, she, too, rushed on by without stopping, so that my gaze fell instead on the grey and glutinous Nurse Glob who stood by my bedside — a veritable varmint that seemed forever glued to me — and I was filled with disgust!

What, was she still here?

Didn’t she have any bed pans to empty, or perhaps a cup of tea to throw over some other poor, unwary invalid? Surely she must have many patients to attend to, so why spend all this time with me? Yet despite that, she clearly wasn’t going anywhere and it was starting to feel a lot like being stalked. Then, as if she had read my mind: 

‘Nice plant, Lord Grumpkin, would you like me to water it for you?’ she asked with a cheery smile, her nose thrusting deep into my personal space.

‘Very nice,’ I snapped back, ‘but no, thanks, that won’t be necessary.’

‘Ah, now, we mustn’t let it dry out, must we?’ she insisted. ‘It would be such a pity to let it die, why don’t I take it to the kitchen and give it a good drink?’

‘I said, thanks, but no thanks,’ I insisted in my turn. 

‘It’s no trouble, honestly,’ she said, ‘I’ll have it back again in a jiffy.’ And then before I could say another word, she had seized it with both hands and marched it off to the kitchen. 

Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so shocked by what happened next. After all, Gypsy Georgette’s words were still ringing in my ears, and it wasn’t as if I’d had no suspicions about this nurse… however I was completely unprepared for what she did on her return.

‘Here it is as promised, safe and sound,’ she announced as she replaced the plant on my bedside table. And then, ‘I don’t do this sort of thing for all my patients, you know, it’s just such an honour to have you to take care of, Lord Grumpkin! Now is there anything else I can do for you before the end of my shift?’ 

Noting with distaste that little flutter of her eyelashes again, I responded with a curt: ‘No thanks, Nurse, that will be all.’

‘Well, at least let me adjust your bed for you. You’re sitting almost bolt upright, you’ll never get a good night’s sleep like that.’ 

So saying, she grasped the crank that was meant to lower it, and then gave it several tugs, but to no avail. ‘Dear me, something must be stuck,’ she muttered, changing her grip and trying again. Then when that didn’t work either, she took a step back, gathered her strength, and gave it a mighty kick. Upon this the whole bed collapsed, yanking my leg out of its sling and unpinning all of its newly repaired bones!

‘AARGH, AARGH!!’ I screamed, overcome by excruciating pain. 

‘Now, now, then, Lord Grumpkin, it’s really not that bad,’ said Nurse Glob. Look, I’ve put your foot back up in the sling, and everything’s fine. After all, everyone knows that it’s good to move about after surgery, it helps the circulation and speeds up the recovery process. So sleep well, and I’ll be back to see how you are first thing tomorrow morning.’ Then after bending forwards, she whispered these words in my ear: ‘Sweet dreams, my dear Super-Rat. Here’s something to remember me by till we’re together again…’ 

And with that she closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and planted a great big sloppy wet kiss on my forehead!