Dinner with Mavis
When I was about 18 I had a terrible, terrible asthma attack. The usual nebuliser plus steroids and antibiotics did nothing, and so I was admitted to the chest ward. The chest ward also appeared to double up as the geriatric ward. I was surrounded by old pneumonia victims and the odd woman suffering from dementia. The coughs, splutters and "Get back into BED Edna!" soothed me to a restful sleep every night. As my asthma is often tied up with stress I remained in God's waiting room for 4 nights.

There was an old frail lady in the bed opposite me called Mavis. She was sweet and we did the morning wave to one another, and the lunchtime roll-of-the-eyes as the nurses handed out the dog food disguised as shepherds pie. One morning there was a huge kerfuffle around Mavis' bed. The curtains were whipped around her section and doctors and nurses converged, and then left. About an hour later, a middle aged man approached the bed with one of the nurses, fought with the curtain for admittance and left again. The curtains remained closed.

"Lunch" was served. I poked at it for a while, ate as much as my poor taste buds could manage and then it was taken away.

At about 6 O'clock some porters came - and strangely, I don't remember the next bit - they must have taken Mavis' body away but I remained clueless. It was only after the curtains were pulled back and the bed was being stripped did the penny drop. I remind you that I was 18, and a bit traumatised by all the terrible sickness around me.

So, I didn't see a dead body, just ate dinner in the same room as one - which believe me freaked me out for months afterwards. It was my first real brush with mortality.

Cheerful topic – I don’t think I’m going to be reading many of these this week!
( my_cat_has_no_shoes meh meh meh MEH MEH, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 10:55, 1 reply)

I only heard an enema
I had a big ol' asthmas attack and thankfully was only there overnight. There was an elderly lady there with severe dementia and overhearing her having an enema asking for her mother will haunt me for life.
(Medibot, Sat 1 Mar 2008, 17:11, closed)