Self Worth

---

Miles and Sally shared a dark private room on the top floor. Miles was the only patient on the floor. Sally was the only other human apart from when a nice nurse came to give him Pethedine shots for the agonizing throbbing in his back. Their flight to London had been cancelled. There were no humans on the floor below either. Miles mused happily; if he could choose his exit, 'mystery tropical illness' would be very high on his list.

The dialysis room had been something else! It was positively space age, everyone in paper suits. Miles had not really bothered to follow what happened much. They gave him a dialysis, he felt much better, their flight was cancelled, he had terrible back pain, like he had been given the most severe and specific kicking. He had no idea how long he had been sick, he guessed about a week. It was the day after the BBQ. All he had done was lie around and moan while other people wheeled him about, chopped him up and stuck things in him.

In the foyer of the hospital, as he was wheeled to the ambulance, he was introduced to Dr Rosemary, a statuesque Naomi Campbell type, and staggered to discover her to be a doctor accompanying him to England.

In the airport, he went completely bonkers. Customs want a 'fine'. He leaves his wheelchair, groans and roars before trying to walk through the barrier then collapses in his wheelchair again and passes out. When he comes to, they are in the air. He can't quite get to grips with vision that greets him: there are four stretchers of car-crash victims racked up beside him. He is strapped into his chair. He is not sick enough to lie down. His back aches and nice Dr Rosemary gives him a shot. He wakes up in London where he is loaded into ambulance waved through immigration and customs with the siren blowing.

They speed to the Humana Hospital in St John's Wood, number one choice for Nigerian billionaires. The nurse who checked him in asked him what was wrong. Miles began to mumble about the day of the BBQ when Dr Rosemary stepped forward and snapped 'Acute Renal Failure!" and the nurse wrote it down. "Acute," thought Natan. "Renal. Failure. Acute renal failure."

"We need to take a deposit of fifty thousand pounds," said the nice nurse. Dr Rosemary snapped open her briefcase and it was full of cash, like in a movie. Sally actually gasped. She counted out the amount. There was plenty left. A mystery tropical illness guy in your hospital is one thing; a dead one, or an infectious one, something else. Five hours later, as they were ejected from the Humana for being too sick, Rosemary was given refund of thirty five thousand pounds and change.

Miles decided it was probably time to phone his mum.


http://s7.zetaboards.com/PPooDD/topic/8388736/1/

---