Purple like an aubergine

Or eggplant as Americans call it (though any resemblance to an egg is pretty farfetched to my eye).

My natural decorum and good taste *cough* plus the fact that Mary checks this blog regularly for egregious errors of fact means that I have not been able to document my post-operative condition as luridly as I might have otherwise have wished. The safest thing is quote from the informative leaflet the hospital gave me.

"Risks. For a hernia repair these include: bruising - there is a risk of bruising around the operation site. But some patients may develop quite dramatic bruising and swelling, which in men can extend to ... [Ed. That quite enough thank you!]"

On the Friday before we left for Italy I went back to the nurse who did a conjuring trick and proceeded to pull a foot long piece of what looked like fishing line out of my groin. A most odd sensation. It appears that dissolving stitches are for the inner layers only. She pronounced the scar as healing nicely and off I went with a packet of anti-inflammatory Nurofen.

Two weeks of relaxation in Italy means I am well on the way to full recovery although the residual tenderness may mean that an exhibition of Russian Cossack dancing may yet be some way off.