Moments of laughter in the mayhem

This is an excerpt from ‘348 Days’, my book about Henry. We were about 5 months into treatment and really struggling. It just goes to show the power of humour…
 
“A moment of light relief was had at the cardiology clinic. As we waited for our turn an older chap was waxing lyrical VERY loudly: he started by competing with another OAP regarding the number of tablets he takes (6 for breakfast, 8 at lunchtime), then moved onto the story of his prostate work and how he now needs to sit to use the loo, “like a woman”. The older lady he’d competed with (4 tablets for breakfast but 10 with lunch) agreed that her husband has to do the same or their bathroom’s in, “a right state”! This was followed by a discussion of retirement  (your body lets you down or your brain goes, or you’re fine and can’t live on your pension). The whole clinic was smothering laughter (or suicidal) by the time we were called for our appointment. As we passed the old boy he said in a stage whisper,
 
“Now THAT’s what aah caahl sad – Ah’ve had a sh*te life, but it’s not right on the bairns, is it!”
 
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
 
What I don’t include in the book was that Henry’s response was “Daft old Git!” 
 
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