Friday, 28 February 2014

Hospital


Vol 36 Hospital

I suppose there are benefits to having a body.  There are some pleasing sensations to be had for instance, but on the other hand the maintenance of said is jolly hard work, requiring the owner/driver to career up a motorway at an outrageous hour every morning to earn enough money for its warmth, fuel, soap, nail polish and so on which, despite our dedication to keeping it up and running it, often cruelly and mockingly betrays us. 

Take this small example.  Living proof that it is most definitely not advisable to commission a perm while pregnant, I was confined to bed on the long gone perinatal ward at Billinge.  Belly as vast as Saturn, with memories of a long ago pre-appendectomy hospital stay resulting in a rubber-clad finger up my bum come to torment me, I was utterly, utterly, unreservedly miserable.  The unforgiving hospital heat concentrating the unmistakable hospital smell, the cruel crack-of-dawn awakenings to clanks of trolleys and bristlings of importances were getting to me. 

Understandable, you might think, and I’d concur.  The body though, complicit with the emergent mischief within, had other ideas. 

As her Most Majesterial Sister in charge of all things sterile as well as those not, for monitoring purposes attempted to wrap a thick strap around my belly, it suddenly shot an angular shape and, equally suddenly, in spite of my wretchedness, a little laugh escaped me.

“Oh yes, we’re well used to that,” bristled Mrs Efficiency,

“now lie calmly …”

“Ha.  Ha.”

“And baby will settle,”

“Heheheh”

“…  and readings will be accurate,” she ordered frowning, as if I had any say in it, and carried on strapping.

“Ha!” burst definitively now from my lungs, “hahahahahah HAHAHAHAHAH”

“Now that’s not helping is it?”  as I chortled on, inwardly cringing, “I’m going to leave you to calm down and come back in a while.”

As her hips receded down the ward, I bitchily decided that she needed the next size in navy and lay back to contemplate sleepily on my menu selection for the evening.

Half an hour passed serenely by before Sister Majestolic    appeared at my bedside instantly instigating more massive convulsions of mirth.

“HA!” I gasped “HAHAHA!” completely helpless, lost in my merciless convulsions and crying now as a final vindictive snot bubble sprang from my nose.

 “HAHHAH AHA!”