Smiling all day at this one.

Stability of vital signs, improving pathology results and the ability to complain about hospital food are all signs of recovery from whatever ails you but the real zinger, the red flag saying 'send me home', for me, is a return of the sense of humour.

I saw a 98-year-old man today, who overnight, had recovered from his febrile delirium and this morning was feasting on cornflakes. This is, more or less, the conversation we had:

"Hello, Frank. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Much better, thanks Doc."

Munch, munch, munch.

"Do you remember why you are in hospital?"

"No, not really. I know I was bloody crook."

Munch, munch, munch, munch.

"Yes, you were very unwell. You had pneumonia."

Munch.

"Pneumonia?"

Munch.

"Where's my old one?"

Munch, munch, munch.