Results came though for my final OU course.
I have have been offered, and have accepted, a BA (Hons) in English Literature.
The offer came through sometime between when my three anaethetists were arguing over the safest place to buy petrol, and when my daughter lead me, sobbing and looking like a battered hamster, though the hospital to the taxi home.
My swollen face has now developed more of a Cat-in-the-Hat appearance (I was concerned that this post may have to be in rhyme). Here I am attempting to smile at my accomplishment; note how carefully the pjs have been chosen to harmonise with the bruising.