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I was feasting my senses on the spectacle of the International Rugby Sevens staged at the CR&FC by Isipatana to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the College. And then the curtain fell.

I was striken by an acute bout of gastritis, perspired and fainted. My friends were concerned because I had had a heart seizure two years ago and so they promptly had me on a stretcher and taken by the stand-by Navy ambulance to Durdans. That was a luxury ride for a spectator because, in normal circumstances, only players who are injured get taken in such vehicles.

I was doomed to miss the rugby festival until I got in front of the TV in the hospital room. And yet there is no acrimony when I state that however concerned they were for my sake, "with friends like them I don't need anemas."

As soon as he saw me, Dr. Anil Perera asked, "You like it here, don't you?" referring to a twenty day stay over two years ago for a heart ailment and I quipped back in like manner, "Doctor, this is my home away from home."

I had pleaded for an early discharge saying I was alright and that I had "miles to go and promises to keep." But the good doctors at Durdans are not spring chicken and they will not buy a sob story like in the market place. The meticulous creatures they are when they have to tend to the sick, they put me through the necessary tests and I had to bide my time.

The folly of friends can be monumental. Without a pen to write, a book to read and counting the hour by the seconds I had visions of the most boring week-end I would have suffered through but, mercifully, the reports were speedily out and I was given a clean bill of health to go home and do the things I am wont to do, the first being to pen these lines.

(S.de.A)

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