Day two post surgery. Apart from the enormous cast on Emily’s arm, she was feeling tired. Hospital are not renowned for good food or being peaceful places of rest. The food may be edible but it is never exactly what you fancy. Rest is disrupted by the multitude of professionals; doctors, nurses, cleaners, the trolley lady and the physios, probably visiting others in the ward, but their conversations all audible. It is worse at night. Noises are amplified, patients are disoriented and call for assistance, sleep is at best disturbed.
As soon as Emily was casually told by our attending doctor that she could go home, she had the wheelchair accessible taxi number punched into her phone. I rapidly crammed everything back into her holdall and she drove the power chair at speed, dare I say accelerating, out into the sunshine.
Lucky we have help at home. The Beastie has been waiting for the patient to return.
“Coffee or tea, is that with milk and sugar?”
“Thank you Matron”