Last rites, lullabies and KFC

Last rites, lullabies and KFC

My day started with an irate phone call from a guest who called from OR Tambo in a wild panic. He had an early flight back home after he spent two months with us while he was getting a fancy prothesis fitted, as his leg was amputated some time ago. Mr Patrick lives on...
Joan of ulcers.

Joan of ulcers.

I have been on a glorious week of leave at the coast and have no fresh stories. I was far too relaxed to think of anything profound to write in this blog, so today I want to tell a story from way back. My granddad, Oupa Maarten, used to say he was going to fetch the...
The departure lounge.

The departure lounge.

Okay, so on a scale from one to ten, this blog’s sadness level is around six. So, if you need to, go into your closet and put on your big girl panties. (If you are already in the closet, please come out? I can assure you the right people love you anyway).   I am...
Compassionate collaborations.

Compassionate collaborations.

We recently looked after a wealthy American and when she left, she generously tipped the staff that looked after her. Now, you can imagine, with the exchange rate sitting at R20 to the USD, it was not difficult for this Yank to be extravagant. The patient had a...