The Hospital – the funny side Part Two
Having left the poor young nurse feeling inadequate to her task of cheering the patient I now resume my tale of ‘The Hospital ‘
You will of course , as I did , get to know the nursing staff quite well for she ( upon recovering her personal vigour ) resume the task of visiting you hourly in those first few crucial hours and persist in asking if you are asleep , an activity there seems little time for unless you enjoy being kept awake .
Though I never really fathomed the reason for the 0400 hrs visit with a cup of tea and a digestive , seriously – had I died during the previous hour it would be pointless to wake me and all others on the ward at 0400 hrs and the removal of a body could have waited for a more decent hour.
I discovered intimacies with thermometers previously unknown to me and if the operation was somewhat south of the navel, than even that becomes a shared discovery. The joys of having a special little companion through this journey into better health.
Once one feels a little better physically a certain familiar routine seems to establish itself, much of which of course remains hidden but apparently has some import to the Nursing Staff and the running of the Hospital. There is a sense of not really being in the right place at the right time as the patient is obviously the last thing any Hospital wants to see for their presence makes the facility untidy and keeps the staff from more important routines.
In civilian life the ordinary mortal probably has the last exotic dream for the night at 0500 hours and as far as erotic dreams go .. The have well and truly been and gone by 0400 hrs.
Depending on how sick you are perceived to be, the nightly routine of an hourly torch in the face continues and by about 0700 in the morning you are ready to sign about anything. Were you a ‘political ‘rather than a private patient, Amnesty International would have a few words to say about this.
Breakfast arrives somewhere about 0800. Armstrong going to the Moon had to live off tube food and other unpalatable fare. He had nothing on this. They say , in a kindly tone , that hardships build a strong mind and body and seeing your present fare makes you wish that you had signed up for that guaranteed ‘ Ethiopian Water ‘ Diet .
Bacon was never like this, and the eggs; God it makes you sorry for the Chickens that had to lay them. Hell indeed has no fury as the Hospital Cook.
Anyway, I was told that mine was very popular in the Congo Soup Kitchens, when our Cook was doing time with the Foreign Legion to avoid doing time for culinary homicide.
Now it’s a brave man that ventures into the unknown and I am ready , I go where no man has gone before and try the Luke warm porridge and somewhere in the back of my mind I can hear little ‘Oliver ‘ crying “ More Please , More “ .
Well, if Gordon could face the maddened troops of the’ Madi’ climbing down some stairs waving a hanky and a smile on his face before being speared, I can eat this. Suddenly as I swallow this gruel I realize what it must have been like to have a spear pierce your best dress uniform and knowing that your days in the mess have come to an end.
This part of my personal hobby of Hospitals adventures places not just breakfast before me but is only a small part of the overall adventure. This will later lead me to the adventure of the bedpan, but all in good time. End of Part Two … AK
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