Dear Nursing Staff
You might recall that
I was incarcerated in ward 202 and subject to your tender mercies between 6th
and 8th August. May I say that you were all the perfect bunch of
clucking hens and that your care, concern and dedication was greatly
appreciated. In particular, it was most reassuring to note how much unruffled
attention you were able to give to patients whilst under the weight of
pressures forced on you by an underfunded system. Well, underfunded or not, the
NHS remains, in my view, the jewel in the crown of British culture and you are
perfect exemplars of the fact. Many thanks to you.
Would you mind also
proffering my greetings to Bertha Rochester
who oversees the non-clinical functions? She, too, helped make the days
lighter. But please be vigilant and ensure that she doesn’t creep into the ward
during the wee small hours and set fire to the odd patient here and there.
Bertha Rochesters are known for that unfortunate predilection and the ward
wouldn’t smell too good if she were allowed free rein.
Very best wishes to
you all. Your profession is a most noble one.
Sincerely
I wonder whether they liked it. I wonder whether they know
who Bertha Rochester is. I wonder whether they’ll put it on their pin board
between Schedule of Catheter Bag Emptying
and List of Patients Whose Bowel
Functions Need Querying. I wonder whether I dare show my face there again (or any other part of me for that matter.)
I hope I’ll never need to.
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