It is 5 am here, I have just been woken (thankfully) from a terrible dream, the irony of which would not escape the fat git (as he is affectionately known by some). He is in a ward called Harrison Ward, and I have just been dreaming of a huge gallstone thundering down the corridor towards him, as he runs (!) down it, crazed native nurses hurl syringes through blow pipes at him and there is a surgeon lurking around the corner with a mad possesive gleam in his eye, waiting to get hold of his kidneys! Guess baked beans for supper is a bad idea.....

I don't have an update, but I suggested his wife take a hard copy of this thread and give it to him, hope she managed it, I see his name appears with no message, so I should presume that she did. So he knows you are all thinking of him, and I'd like to say thank you, especially Cleigh, I know how hard it is for possums....

LTS