Monday, 15 February 2016

The patient

She sat in her hospital bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. The desperation within her grew, filling her with an anxious longing.

So many tests, so many needles! She idly rubbed at the bruises on her arms. But still there seemed to be no answers, nobody to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be alright.

She felt so alone, longed to be home, comfortable and warm in her own bed. But it felt as though it would never be.

Every time that the doctors said that she could go home, something would happen. A test result would come back abnormal, she would begin to feel ill. And it was yet another night in hospital. A night of noise, lights, the nurses laughing and talking, other patients crying out for help – no sleep.

She picked up her book to pass the time, but could not concentrate. The words swam before her tired eyes, her mind could not comprehend them.

Lunch time! What pleasures would there be today? She lifted the lid, shuddered and turned away. I wouldn't feed that to a dog! She muttered to herself!

Yet more doctors appeared at the bottom of her bed. More puzzled faces, more muttered words.

Please, please, just tell me what is wrong, she thought silently. But they just smiled at her and walked on to the next patient.

Days passed, more tests, more blood, more bruises.

She sat, watching the cars travelling along the road. They were the lucky ones, they were free! They would be going home to a tasty meal and their own bed! A tear slid down her cheek.

The door to the ward opened – more doctors, more hushed words. And then – one looked up and said 'Would you like to go home?'

Her heart leaped! Yes, yes please!

There would be more tests, more blood, drugs and bruises, but at least she would be home.

She pulled the curtains around her bed, ripped off her hospital gown and got dressed, smiling.

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