Where’s the Christmas spirit?

Good Morning! It’s Monday, the sun is shinning its beautiful light, commuters are long over the slub of their travel this morning and sitting at their desks with their tea and coffee and I’m still in this ward with the coughing, choking, spluttering patients hoping that today is the day I leave.

I’ve been told by endless nurses that a doctor will be round to see me today but I’m sure they just tell us this to be quiet. My neighbours in here are groovy grannies with their colour coordinated dressing gowns and slippers, puzzles and Hello! Magazines. I’m sitting here with a daft polar bear hat on, a hospital gown that does no justice to my butt and over knee socks with colourful triangles on them.

Hopefully today is the day I’m out of here. Hospital’s are depressing places. The wards here are drones of pale blue walls with neon bright blinding lights and windows that tell a story of a different world. Hospitals are places for the sick, but can’t the trusts put happy things in here? Children’s wards get happy colours, pictures on the walls and toys to play with, us adults get beds of motionless souls, emptiness and a fear of being alone. I’m in a ward with groovy grannies, thank god for my iPhone. Without the use of this bad boy, I would have to refer back to the gossip mag’s my Mum brought in and read word for word, page to page until sign of life alerted I’d be on my merry way.

Can I make a suggestion, dear NHS trusts? Here’s a thought, bring a bit of life to these wards, some smiles, some Christmas spirit, a bit of tinsel draped over the windows or place a loosely decorated Christmas tree in the corner if your budget is too tight. Christmas is approaching in a week tomorrow. A week. Most of these patients won’t be out in time or even be with a family this Christmas, so make it feel like the spirit of it is still alive.

Let’s get rid of this:


And make it something more manageable for everyone. Heck if budget is that tight, I’ll come as a Christmas fairy (I don’t have the belly to pass off as Father Christmas) on Christmas Day.


1 Comment

  1. Pingback: Panic Attacks are bull. Why do you exist? | Random Ramblings Of Me Dingo

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