More Than Caring. Josie Metcalfe

underneath, she had to ask the doctor to come in—not my own doctor because he was away on holiday by then.’

      ‘So, how was the graze you’d needed the dressing on in the first place? Was it healing while all this was going on or had it got worse, too?’ Lauren asked.

      ‘It was nearly gone, dear,’ Cissy said. ‘It was the place where that other nurse had pulled the skin off that had flared up, so the doctor gave me some antibiotics and told me to come back in three days to have the dressings changed again. Only I couldn’t wait three days because the pain got so bad and my leg kept swelling up more and more.’

      ‘You saw your own doctor again?’ Lauren was suddenly aware just how long this tale might go on for if she didn’t give it a gentle nudge along.

      ‘No, it was the locum standing in for my own doctor while he was away on holiday. He took one look and told me I needed to go to the hospital straight away. Not Denison either, but the big one in the city.’

      Bearing in mind that this had all happened nearly a month ago, Lauren was almost dreading what would come next. It must have been a serious problem to have kept her in hospital all this time.

      ‘Well, when I got to the hospital they poked and prodded and took blood and X-rays and then a young man asked me to sign a piece of paper. “What’s that for?” I asked. “For your amputation tomorrow morning,” he said as calm as you like. “We’re going to be cutting your leg off because you’ve got gangrene.” And he never batted an eyelid.’