Going Home

I’ve always appreciated our NHS; I think it’s wonderful and as I laid in my hospital bed and watched the ENT Nurses, I got a first-hand glimpse of just how hard they work especially now they are working with the extra challenges Covid has brought.  They never stopped, they were constantly working hard to make sure we were comfortable, settled, drugged up and happy.  Everybody was made to feel like they were important and when you are feeling rubbish, that makes a big difference.

The cleaning staff were super men and women, they were constantly on the move. They would come into the ward and clean all the time, every surface wiped, the plastic partitions between the beds were deep-cleaned and whenever anybody went home, they were there stripping beds, washing them down…every bit of it, wiping the walls, floors, tables, cupboards nothing got missed.  I noticed later that somebody would then come round and spot check everything and the details input into a tablet. It was non-stop. I noticed that the bottoms of my slippers, which I had dragged all over the ward and corridors were as clean as when I bought them and that said a lot at just how hard these people worked.  

I decided to brave a shower and asked for a large towel…I was handed what looked like something you’d dry a Chihuahua in. The Nurse handed me three, “we don’t have anything larger than these” she said laughing. I was a bit nervous about having a shower and getting my neck wet, but it was OK, the bandages were welded on tight it seemed and it was just so nice to be under the running water and be able to wash my hair…although this was tricky I found as I couldn’t move my head and lifting my arms in the air was a bit of a no go too. I found if I bent my arm at the elbow, I could just about manage it. I was back to my weird Thunderbird puppet ways, although now I felt a bit more robotic. 

Back on the ward my neighbour was still chatting away.  We were ordering lunch as the Consultants were taking a while to get around everybody.  My neighbour was telling me about her despicable dinner a few days before where she had been given a naan bread the size of a cracker. I studied the menu unsure what I could stomach right now, I decided on a tuna sandwich and what sounded like fruit salad. I needed healthy, but actually that’s not what turned up…instead I received what looked like a mayonnaise sandwich and a pot of apple sauce. It was pretty depressing, and I sat eating glad that I wasn’t staying for dinner and pretending that I had meant to order apple sauce. 

My neighbour shouted me over, she had sourced a chicken curry, even though it wasn’t on the menu.  She slowly held up the naan bread to show me what she had been telling me about…it looked like a pantyliner! “At least this time it’s soft” she said…however just as she said this it was as though the air suddenly hit it and it went rigid “oops nope!” she said and snapped it in half “aren’t you glad you’re going home?” she said laughing.  I was glad because even with food in her mouth this woman did not STOP! She was lovely, don't get me wrong, and she had entertained us all but I really needed to sleep! I was discharged not long after once my drugs turned up and I had said an emotional goodbye to the nurses…I was tired but also extremely grateful for how hard they worked, and I told them so.  I wobbled downstairs and found Phoebe peering through the entrance windows, I was so happy to see her and skipped outside gulping the fresh air as I went, before promptly bursting into tears.