demagogue

verb

1. rhetorically exploit (an issue) for political purposes in a way calculated to appeal to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people

The doctor arrived shortly after lunch and took one look at my knee and declared it fit for surgery.

"I think we can get you scheduled for the last surgery slot this evening. How does that sound?" Dr Styles was pleased with himself, probably knowing why my step dad was, he didn't want to leave things any longer for my knee surgery.

"That sounds good. Thanks Doc." I smiled at him.

"So, no more food for another 6 hours, and no fluids from 5pm onwards. If you take in anything after 5pm, you will have your surgery moved until tomorrow morning, but the sooner we can get your knee mended, the better chances of a near complete recovery.

"I'll have a nurse bring you in some pre-opp fluids that are high in electrolytes that will ensure you manage post opp better. You will be sedated, completely and this is where I have to tell you the possible side affects of general anaesthetic." He then went on to explain any possible negative outcome of the surgery, outlining the dos and don'ts for the next few hours and post opp care. He was really nice to listen to, actually. Had a pleasant voice and demeanor, and once he was finished, he said goodbye and promised to see me right before the surgery.

"He's going to join in on my surgery?" I asked mum for clarification.

"He said so, as you're Wallace Overmeyer's step daughter. He'll need to take full responsibility for everything and anything that happens or he will lose his hospital."

"Oh, this is Dr Styles hospital?"

"You didn't know? He's the director and CEO of this whole place."

"Hahaha, no I didn't. The perks of being rich and powerful, aye?"

The nurse arrived sometime later with a whole pre-opp care package, including those nasty drinks and a lovely little surprise.

"I have to take these too?" No one had warned me about this, but now I'm told that two hours before the opp I have to take a pill that will clean out my whole gastric system. "So gross!"

And that was that. 6 hours later I was prepped for surgery, lovely hospital gown and all, said one last good bye to mum and Dr Styles and I was out to it.

I woke up groggy as hell, and in much more pain than I expected. My knee was throbbing, and when I looked down at it, all I could see was bandages and more ice packs.

"Miss, you doing OK? Can I get you a drink of water?" I nurse I'd not met before fussed around me while I lay in post opp.

"You're pretty."

"Thank you miss. I'm going to take your post-op observations now, OK. Just lay back and relax. Can you tell me how your pain levels are?"

"Sore. Like someone shot out my knee and stuffed it full of glass."

"I'll give you some more anti-inflammatory. One moment please."

"Ooookay." Yeah, I think I was flying high on what ever they gave me.

I was soon wheeled back into my ward where I found mum and Wallace waiting for me.

"My Angel isn't here. So saaaad. But good no White Witch. Can I have some jelly and ice cream?"

"She's a little high on the anaesthetic given to her in the theatre but this should settle." The nurse who followed me from the surgery explained to my parental units how successful the surgery went but all I was interested in was the little fairy wisps floating around my room. They'd get close to me giggle then flutter away again before I could catch them.

"I should take video of her like this to prove it happened." My mum giggling at me refocused me back to the here and now. I scowled at her and then remembered how she hated my guts 'before'. I couldn't help crying.

"I'm sorry mum. It wasn't my fault. I tried to get him out, but the fire... Mum, I didn't start it. It wasn't meeee. I'm sorry Jac-Jac... I'm sorry my Angel." My mum pulled me into a hug then looked really concerned at Wallace and the nurse at this dark turn of events.

"It's OK, honey. Jac-Jac is fine. He's home with Grandpa Overmeyer. He's perfectly fine." She took the better part of ten minutes trying to calm me down before I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke to Nurse Betty checking up on me.

"Oh, Nurse Betty, so good to see you. I think you are my favourite nurse here." I rubbed my eyes and tried to sit up. With nurse Betty's help I was able to check out the nasty scar and stitches on my right knee. It looked horrible.

"Oh that's awful. No more mini skirts for a while. Good thing I managed a nice pic or two in my new dress before this happened. I can look back years from now at the photos and reminisce about my perfect knees." I give a big dramatic sigh and am interrupted by Grant arriving with this morning's breakfast.

After food and drink I decided it was time for a clean up and Grant had to take his leave while I was bed-bathed and given a change of clothes. It was nice to be in a bra once again. Double Ds in a hospital gown, its not as pleasant as it sounds.

"OK, so now that I'm looking somewhat more presentable, lets take photos. I have to update my social media."

"Young people these days. What's so great about telling the whole world your life stories?"

"Becoming famous is a long road, my dear. Its important to show the ups and downs so someone, further down the track, can make note of these things and make my biographic movie more interesting to watch. Movies need conflict or they become terribly boring." I give her a cheeky smile then gather her and Grant, who came back in the room.

"Smile everyone, say 'knees'!"

Photos taken, internet updated. Then I was in the process of showing Grant photos of my perfect knees from Mum and Wallace's wedding when Liam Ferguson arrived. And he wasn't alone.