Instructions were to not eat, and arrive early. Naturally this is the day the taxi is late, the check-in procedure misfires and the directions are wrong. However by 11 Nick is in the hospital bed, tubes and wires everywhere. Ever noticed how people instantly look ill when they're in a hospital bed?



Then he's wheeled round the corner. I can hear his voice. Silence. THUD - like a box being dropped. Then his voice again. Whole thing barely took 5 mins.

It worked!

By 1 o'clock we're out of there, and ravenously hungry. Celebrate with a late lunch in the sunshine, beside the river.

Postponed till next Tuesday. Gave us the hardest few days since this began.

A scientific investigation discovered that people are happier when bad news is confirmed that they are when waiting for the results. It's the uncertainty that's corrosive.

Month's up, so back to the hospital. Everything's OK, so booked in for Friday. It's not an operation - they give the heart an electric shock, like the dramatic operating table scenes in ER and Casualty. Apparently it's agonising if you're conscious, so they knock you out for a couple of minutes while it's happening. The shock stops the heart, and there's a good chance that when it restarts it will be working properly. Basically Nick's going to be power cycled.

If this had to happen, we were lucky it happened here. It's the teaching hospital for Leuven University, and very impressive. With an international reputation, we're told.

And they have lots of interesting sugar free cakes and biscuits in their shop.

I missed this part of the Jaarmarkt last year, so I spent the day here this time. Well worth it.

The blood thinning is a balancing act, so Nick has to see the doctor every week to get it checked.

Fortunately there's an excellent pizza joint round the corner, to soothe the stress.