Tag Archives: hospital
A round wooden table holds a Christmas magazine from two years ago. Names are called by smiling nurses, anxious to put you at your ease. A tang of nervous energy, feet shuffling, plastic-padded chairs creaking.
Tanned, chestnut-brown skin. Dyed, jet-black hair, piled messily on top of her head. Bangles and rings adorn her hands and arms. They jangle and click with every answered phone, every press on the keyboard. She laughs with the nurses, comfortable … Continue reading
Bright pink and high-heeled. A frivolity beneath the formal clothing and white coat. The stark hospital surroundings make them stand out, much loved and lived in, against the grey plastic floor.
A blur of happy, chatty activity. The phone rings, the intercom blares, consultants, nurses and theatre porters come and go. Busy as it is, there’s always someone to ask, someone to help.
Middle-aged and sullen, he sits in the waiting room. Head bowed, he glowers at everyone from underneath bushy eyebrows. On his arm in the little piece of cotton wool and tape that shows a recent blood test. He is on … Continue reading
In the entrance sits a woman in a wheelchair. She looks thin and grey, holding a small cup of water in her hand. Our eyes meet and we smile. A moment of human contact, comforting for us both, I hope.