Tales from a hospital bed 3

There is a risk that these medical missives could turn into a moan fest. During the middle of last night’s drug dispensing (not as dangerous or exciting in hospital as on the mean streets) I composed today’s tale in my head and it was a catalogue of whingeing, mainly about those who are caring for me who always leave the damn light on when they finish with me. I could rattle on about this type of person, but they are in the minority. Instead I will salute the caring, the patient, the funny and the wonderful nurses and doctors who go the extra mile.

The dreaded feed, brown sludge

If you have spent anytime with NHS recently you will know that services are stretched beyond breaking. The only thing that keeps it barely hanging together is the goodwill and hard work of the staff. I have had fabulous considerate care from many, many staff. Particularly a shout out for all the nurses – of every grade. Long hours and changing shift patterns is just the top layer of their commitment. They are compassionate, conscientious, caring and calm, especially when I am at my least well and can barely communicate what I need because I don’t know and can’t talk.

As a minimum all these staff do their job with kindness and good grace. Some go the extra mile, checking in to see how you are doing when they are based elsewhere. All have a smile and reassurance that things will improve. They are essential to my well-being and without straying too far into the election mire I would like to shout out from this 10th floor bed that the next government needs to invest heavily in the NHS, not continue its death by 1000 cuts.

No more politics, promise.

Alternate window view

Health-wise I’m doing OK. Recovery is on track. All the drugs for this, that and the other are exhausting, but I am sleeping through all the noise, disruption and discomfort and that is key to my ongoing improvement. It is a joy to receive messages of support and love from friends and family.

These will be even more helpful in the coming week or so. You know how it is. After a while routine takes over and that old friend, fighting off boredom with his laptop, books and camera, may slip from your thoughts. Don’t let it happen! Be alert. Send me something to make me smile, laugh, cry, whatever. Keep ’em coming! Your support keeps me going through all the crap. Oh yeah, and please turn the light off when you go. Ta

Photographer bed view