2 Feb 2008
There was only four beds there in the small ward last Thursday evening, but the noise was defeaning. A Wii Tennis tournament conducted in Bay 1 competed with seventeen partying visitors in Bay 2; the whole crowd determinedly drowned out by the coach party visiting Bay 3 for Eastenders at volume 11.
On our side of the curtains three of us were huddled around the patient, offering comfort and support. I cheered everyone up by bellowing exerpts from Paradise Lost
It was a Dot Cotton monologue. I remembered watching one of those twenty years ago.
Our patient was miserable; We had a TV on a trolley and inserted a DVD; on other side of the curtain Dot Cotton was boosted to 12. In the next ward a parentless baby cried alone, and somewhere far away an alarm bell rang.
I pressed the nurse call button but no one could hear.