Thursday
7pm, Sick Berth, Skegness
Darling,
This is only a note because I’m trying to get one of the lads who is a walking patient to post this for me. Well, sweet, the job is over and I must confess it has been far easier than I expected. They look after you well here. A shot of morphine a couple of hours before you go to the theatre makes you only half conscious by the time you get on to the operating trolley from the ward to the theatre. The result is that by the time you get to the theatre you don’t know much about taking the gas. I must have gone in about 2 and was back in the ward here before 2.30. Nice work. I came to about 4.30pm and have felt, as I say, far better than I expected. By morning I should be quite fit. At the moment I feel a bit “muggy” and am afraid I will have to give this up in a couple of minutes.
The doctor came in to see me at noon, put his “telephone” all over my lungs and passed me as being fit for dental operation with gas. That shows how much better my cough is.
Will write some more tomorrow but just now can hardly keep my eyes open. Don’t worry about me because I’m not saying it to reassure you when I say I feel fine. I have a faint headache but the jaw bones feel very little effect. Tell the children I have no toothy pegs now!
All my love, darling. I will probably have time to write more fully tomorrow, but I don’t suppose you will get that before Sunday. Bye, pet, I still love you.
Ever,
Arthur
P.S. Hope you can read this!
Mar 121942