Well another day and a different mood!  I inspect the permanent tattoo marks  and tell him how brave and off beat he is having his first tattoos at 71 years.  It's  pointed out that he had no choice!  I leave him in bed and escape to zumba, hugs from friends, update on current situation and a giggle at someone who has no sense of rhythm and keeps bumping into me as she keeps going in the wrong direction,  I go into snorting laugh mode and have to be taken into a quiet corner and calmed down.   I think  I'm hysterical after the trauma of yesterday.   Back home, hubby looking better, still sore mouth and the rest but easing off, he will no doubt just be feeling better when he'll get hit with the radiotherapy, it's not often I wish for the autumn but roll on September! !