This is a true story. When I boke my femur on a Friday evening the surgeon popped in plates and screws on the Saturday morning (Friday evening in A&E was a nightmare as the place was full of drunks and druggies!). It was quite DIY as I could observe (I had an epidural) - nowadays they put up screens. He popped in to check his patients on the Sunday morning while his wife did the weekly Tesco shop nearby. He told me that I would be able to swim in six weeks. I had a number of outpatient appointments with him and at week 8 mentioned to him I could not swim after six weeks as he had said. He asked why and I mentioned I never could. He looked at me, grinned broadly and burst out laughing.
One of the great consultants one meets along the way! A pity there are an equal number of poor ones!