There is an unusual camaraderie that develops on a hospital ward. It starts somewhere around, “Morning ladies, how did we all sleep?” The dire stories start to circulate of dreadful dreams, often involving doctors, nurses, giant needles and usually rather odder things thrown in for good measure….but finally Doris in the corner pipes up:

“Well I don’t know about you but I didn’t get a wink of sleep! Not a wink I tell you! Them nurses were in and out that many times, I don’t know how they expect us to get any rest!”

Soothing comforting noises are made to help Doris feel better, even though we all know she got rather more than a wink of sleep because she was bellowing out her hippopotamus like snores from her bed in the corner all night long. But what would it help to point this out to her? It’s not like any of us can leave or choose our ward companions so it makes no difference really. And Doris is quite nice, a bit batty, but aren’t we all in the end?

Then at some point in the endless noon of the day that started before dawn with a nurse announcing she had, “Just popped in for a drop of blood but I won’t be long and you can go right back to sleep, sharp scratch!” Readers, none of us went back to sleep, but we did start the daily comparison of relative illness and dire symptoms.

“What are you in for then?” That’s Doris in the corner again. She quite likes to share, the worse the symptom, the more she enjoys it. “Well! I just popped in to see my doctor, it was only routine mind! Fit as a fiddle I am! But then my doctor said, ‘It’s no good Doris, it’ll have to come off.’ “What all of it doctor?!” ‘Yes all of it Doris, we’ll have it off and sort you out next week and you’ll be right as rain come the morning!’

Not to be outdone, here Ethel gets involved – she’s in the middle bay without a window and of course we all feel quietly smug about that – neighbours on either side and no ventilation, it’s not good really. “Well I went to see MY doctor and he said, ‘I’m afraid it’s twisted all the way round Ethel! It’s definitely not supposed to look like that! Nope, it’ll need to come out! Don’t worry, soon have you better!’ Well, I wasn’t going to argue with him was I? I mean if the doctor says it was twisted, then it was definitely twisted! They know these things the doctors do.”

Then it’s Gladys’ turn. Gladys is in the corner, no window but she’s right beside the ward door so in NHS real estate terms, she’s doing quite well as she’s got a view. “One thing I can’t fault is the staff! The staff are amazing here, every last one of them! Can’t do enough for you! Day or night! It’s the staff I rate!”

We all nod in solidarity and choose not to mention THAT nurse – you know the one, she’s the one who skipped the Compassion 101 module in college and rushed straight into Sadism 204. She’s the one who Really Likes Needles but doesn’t much like anti sickness meds or pain relief, when it comes to requests for those, she suddenly becomes VERY busy for just long enough that the patients know full well who’s in charge – and it isn’t them.

Thankfully though, That Nurse is always balanced by either the quiet ones who actually enjoy nursing, despite the immense pressures of impossible demands that can never be satisfied or the ones who, with a smile and bit of good humour, realise their job is actually made easier if they give the anti sickness meds sooner….trust me, there’s less cleanup involved….

“AND WHAT ABOUT YOUR BOWELS?! HAVE YOU HAD THEM OPEN TODAY DORIS?! YOUR BOWELS?! YOUR BOWELS DORIS, WHEN DID YOU LAST OPEN YOUR BOWELS?”

“Well I took a shit last night if that’s what you mean nurse,” Doris rebelliously mutters. At least she *thinks* she’s muttered it. Doris’ hearing aids aren’t working very well so it might not have been *quite* as quiet as she thought. “Never mind Doris, that’s what we need to know!” The nurse smiles determinedly cheerfully and moves onto Ethel…. Ah, but hold up, Mabel needs a bedpan and shortly we’re ALL going to know about this one….Oh Lord we’re going to know about this one….

Shortly we’ll be moving onto the graduation ceremony, who’s getting out today?! Will one of us actually hear those magic words that allow us to go home? Whose doctor will march in, fling the soundproof curtains closed and proceed to tell Doris…or Ethel….Gladys or maybe even Mabel (even though she’s busy right now) that all that can be done has been done, so it’s time to be released out into the wilderness once more…as those left behind mournfully press their noses against the metaphorical glass of their confinement to wave goodbye and wish the happy graduate well…

But God bless the NHS, for all its faults and creaking at the seams, it’s there when none of us want it, but all of us need it (for now at least).