“This is looking a lot better,” says Mr Hadjiminas, examining my back. “Fantastic!” I exclaim, “So can I stop wearing that?” I jab a finger at the compression bra that is lying innocently across the back of a chair.
“What, and throw it all away just when we’re winning?” My face falls. “We could always put you back in the elastic bandage,” cajoles Mr H. I shoot him a sour look.
“I’m going on holiday for three weeks. If it gets worse again, come back and see me then.”
“And if it doesn’t get worse?”
“Come back and see me in three months.”
“So, do I have to wear the compression bra for another three months?”
“Oh no, three more weeks should do it.”
“Oh thanks. Enjoy your holiday.”