Ward at Night

Night time on the ward is always spooky. There are so many strange sounds; muted voices and metallic rings as the equipment gets moved and the sound of laboured breathing as patients try to get comfortable in strange beds. I always loved these familiar noises when I was working. Night time made all of your senses come alive and it was the time to get close to the patients. Now, peculiarly, these same sounds terrify me. Each clink of a drip stand and each groan of a nearby fellow patient brings it home to me how serious my situation is. Tomorrow I am going to find out what the future holds for me, if anything.
Jack has been here all day, holding my hand, and irritating me, until I got to the point of nearly throwing him out. But I could never hurt him like that. How can he sit there, loving me when I am not anything like the woman he met at Peppers in the 70´s? Where has that girl gone? My fingers are so thin and blue. All the veins are showing now and my skin looks like that tracing paper we used to have when we were young. Jack says that he likes the grey in my hair, but I see him looking at the young nurses with that awful look of regret for all of his lost chances. We were too young to get married and, with the babies and the struggle to always pay the mortgage, there we are, life is nearly gone and we haven’t even begun to enjoy it as a couple.
Simon came in today and brought me some beautiful lilies, my favourites. He told me that he had looked up breast cancer on the internet. I think that it must have frightened him because he didn’t know what to say when I asked him what he found out. He doesn’t know that that was the first thing I did when I came back from Dr Sally’s. I know the doom and gloom of it all but I also know there are some success stories because lets face it, this was my area. Rather ironic, isn’t it, an ex-breast cancer nurse lying here. I just wish that I wasn’t so cross about it all. I mean, I should know that this isn’t always due to smoking or family or living a bad life but I do feel that I have had just about enough sorrow in my life and maybe God could have just shared it out a bit more.
Oh dear, Mr Jones has just tipped up his water bottle again. I don’t know why the nurses can’t just put it in front of him so he doesn’t have to turn around every time. Maybe I should just get up and clear it up.
Who’s that coming down the corridor? That looks like the sister from A & E. What is she doing here? Why is she by the side of Josie’s bed? It looks like she’s playing with the drip. I’m going to call the nurse. There’s something wrong here, she shouldn’t be touching that!

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