THE SINGLE BED: Doctors and Nurses

I am literally risking life and limb to find a man. I am heading into hospital for an operation (no, not a sex change….I have too many Y-chromosomes as it is,) and the first question I asked the doctor was ‘will I get to stay overnight?’ Bed ridden men must be easier to entrap surely?

I have put a great deal of thought into my plan. Firstly I ensured that the procedure would be performed at a private hospital, I mean I don’t want to pick up an NHS patient…there is a good chance that they will come complete with a superbug. I don’t think they let superbugs into the W8 postcode thankfully. My logic was also, the better the hospital, the higher the caliber of  male patient. I will be sure, however, to inspect their chart before I make a pass at them. It seems prudent to check what they might be in for… obviously appendage enlargement would be ideal.

I also suspected, that the better the hospital, the better the doctors would be. When I say ‘better’ I mean wealthier, obviously.  I know this may appear shallow, but one should always try and make the most of a bad situation. If I am coming out of there minus an organ, then coming out with a husband seems like a fair trade.

To aid my quest for companionship (toy boy/meal ticket) I went out last weekend, and bought some new pyjamas. I say ‘new’ but I don’t even own a pair…this may be why none of my friends from Oz come and visit anymore. As I will be trying to impress with flannel, I went all out at The White Company (name dropping in case any nice doctors are reading now) and bought girlie pink flowery pyjamas…really just to ensure that my Y-chromosomes aren’t too obvious.

I don’t like the idea of roaming around the hospital in a white robe, it cannot do my hips any good. The real reason hospitals make you wear them, is to stop people feeling frisky, and therefore it saves them money by not having to install a condom machine. This suits me just fine, as at the hospital in question, all the money has been redistributed to the snack machines.

I didn’t ask the doctor how long it would be before I could get frisky with a guy.   I assume that since I can’t drive or walk  for a while, then everything else is probably also out of the question. Which may be for the best; no one wants to sleep with a woman who uses the word ‘frisky’ so freely anyway. At least I finally have a good excuse as to why I am single…for a week or so at least.


Sally Beerworth