33 Hours in A&E ...ish
Heartfelt tales from a night in hospital
Hospitals are surreal places. The never ending bending corridors echoing with moans, and groans, and laughter, and tears, all layered atop a metronome-like incessant beeping which you can never quite locate.
I arrived home late last night and already the memories are swirling and merging like ink drops in water. But there are a few lucid moments of kindness which remain dear to my heart, and which I thought to share, as kindness has this habit of spreading the more we’re inspired by it.
Thank you to -
The wonderful friend who drove me to the hospital and placed her hand on my back as I wretched into a silver bowl on my lap, insisting that it didn’t matter if I spewed sick over her really rather fancy car.
The kind hospital patient transporter who wheeled me from A&E to the SRU unit as I was doubled over in pain. As we introduced ourselves he said if my first name is Camille then surely my last name must be ‘flage’, as in ‘camouflage’ (ok…I never said the jokes were good!)? Straight after our introduction, he made the nurses and I chuckle as his phone rang to the High School Musical theme tune and he answered it with “Hi Nan, I told you I can’t talk at the moment, I’m at work today. I’ll call you later!” In the lift up to the SRU unit he proudly showed my how his screen saver matched his ringtone as it was a picture of High School Musical too. When dropping me off he left me with one last joke, “What do you call a man with a bunch of leaves in his hair?” “Hmmm… Russel?” I replied (shocked that for once I knew the answer!) It was only as I saw his face drop that I realised I should have pretended I didn’t know. I’ll remember this sweet man-child whose kindness transformed my pained grimace into a smile for a moment that afternoon.
The nurse who brought me a hug-in-a-mug cup of tea and a sneaky pack of custard creams at the end of the evening before bed.
The cleaner who spent a few of her precious minutes laughing about the beauty of a good nap, and the inevitable way that crocs seem to sneak their way in to becoming your daily foot wear - even if you swear when you buy them you’ll only use them for the garden!
The thoughtful and caring lady-of-the-land who walked and fed Gus the dog as he waited at home.
The other dear friend who later drove two hours up the motorway to pick up Gus for a sleepover as well as drop off a toothbrush and some soap so that I could take a warm, comforting shower before bed.
The second kind hospital patient transporter who said with a smile as he helped me into the wheel chair, “If you’d like to go faster, just scream”. As we walked and wheeled along winding corridors he told me how he’d lost over two stone last year in this new job as he now walks on average ten miles a day transporting patients around the hospital.
The group of women in the second ward I was relocated to who invited me to join their little routine of drawing back the divider curtains at supper time so that we could share a meal together.
The plant woman who called and sent a bucket load of tender care down the phone and told me how brave I was.
The compassionate nurse I watched take a nervous patient by the hand and distract her with hilarious stories (for example one man coming to A&E because he discovered he had nits!) whilst the other nurse inserted a cannula into her arm.
The nurse with a soft smile and tender voice who called all the patients (including me) “sweet pea”. It reminded me of my mum calling me “sugar plum” growing up.
The same nurse who reassured a daughter visiting her elderly mother that her mum was doing ok, she was just particularly tired this afternoon. She made the daughter laugh by recounting how earlier that morning as this nurse was washing her mum’s back, the mum had cheekily said “dear, the way you’re washing my back reminds me of someone scrubbing a kitchen floor!”
The male patient who made my laugh silently through the curtain as I heard him express in despair that his Tinder app wasn’t working in the hospital!
There is an abundance of heartfelt gratitude to all the intricate acts of kindness which infused my thirty three hours in hospital, which leave me moved by the power of human care, instead of overwhelmed by the stress and discombobulation of the experience - of which there was plenty too.
All is well again for now and I look forward to seeing some of you this Friday evening in Wiltshire for our Rooted in Sound Event with Mia at Cadenham Manor. There are four spaces left if you’d like to join us, and Mia’s making my favourite type of cake which adds to the excitement of course!
Curious about joining us?
Here’s what to expect:
Ground - We'll start the evening with a grounding practice standing together in the enchanting gardens of Cadenham.
Wander - Wander in solitude in a walking meditation slowing each breath and step as you bring awareness to the subtle sounds of nature. We’ll invite you to feel the peace and power of the present moment as you practice feeling welcomed by the earth with each step.
Nourish - Gather in the drawing room and enjoy homemade refreshments.
Journey - Continue your inner exploration during a restorative sound journey as Mia plays an array of instruments from shamanic rattles and drums, ethereal gongs, wind chimes and Himalayan bowls.
As you can imagine I had a rather different sort of newsletter planned for you this week - full of recent favourite recipes and wild swim spots, but they shall keep for next time. I’ll leave you with the a photo of quite the most enchanting combination I’ve seen for a while - blue skies, milky green lichen and star like hawthorn flowers
Much love to you all,
Camille