Dipping Back Into the Blog.

Those who read my last post might be interested to know that the landing was softer than expected and I didn’t die. I did have to spend an extra night in hospital, however, due to apparently poor lines of communication between the senior clinical staff and the admin people. It’s the second time that’s happened and I’m wondering whether I should try to do something about it. Don’t know; we’ll see. I was intending to ramble on with full details, but I can’t be bothered now and I don’t see why anybody would want to read it anyway. So for now, a couple of brief notes.

By and large the nursing staff were splendid, and one in particular just has to have a mention by name: Eddie (short for Eduarda) was a mature student nurse quite a lot older than most student nurses. Evidently of mixed African and European descent, she’d been born in Angola, brought up in Portugal, and moved to Britain fifteen years ago. I had several very rewarding conversations with Eddie (which is almost unheard of for me) because she not only encapsulated the qualities you would expect of a nurse – compassionate, outgoing and the sort to inspire confidence – she was also highly intelligent. She reminded me that there are a few special people out there who radiate a subtle light which most people don’t even notice (but I do.) In fact, I’d go so far as to say that I made a worthy, if sadly temporary, friend in Eddie, and you’ve no idea how rare it is for me to say that about a person.

I realised that being in hospital is almost tolerable as long as you’re feeling ill because you’re quite happy to rest up and take frequent naps, but when you don’t feel ill it’s tedious as hell. I mean, once you’ve got the procedures out of the way (in my case a relatively minor operation followed by another cystogram) how many things can you find to do when you’re closeted deep in the bowels of a big building with only a few ill people in adjacent beds who think the height of the theatre experience is Agatha Christies The Mousetrap? I walked along corridors a lot, made it to the outside a few times, read a short novel and two newspapers from cover to cover, bought two cups of Americano from Starbucks, smoked a few illicit cigarettes in the sunshine, and did an awful lot of people watching.

One of my walks was made late at night when all admin and clinical activity had finished. (It was late enough for the ward doors to be locked, but I spoke to somebody in the know and escaped.) The long, pristine corridors along which I walked, and which were normally filled with the bustle of people moving from one place to another during the day, were deathly quiet and totally empty. It was genuinely surreal. It felt like being in the middle of some undefined sci-fi movie, especially when it occurred to me that I was probably being watched every step of the way on CCTV. I think that’s probably about as much excitement as you might reasonably expect when you’re stuck in hospital and not feeling ill.

And now I think it’s time to pack up for tonight, partly because my mind doesn’t yet feel fully recovered from the general anaesthetic, and partly because I’m desperate to re-acquaint myself with the delights of YouTube after a 72-hour absence. There will probably be more in due course. Nice to be back. Hello again.