I could easily catch the bus back home from the bus stop right opposite the hospital - but I have worked out a pleasurable routine which helps the Maintenance of a Positive Attitude.
I take the Pulse in the morning to reach the hospital in time for the start of Visiting Time at 10 a.m. If I am even a little bit late, Mr B will greet me with a cheeky: “Good evening!”
Before I make my way up to the third floor, I visit the facilities (you will remember there are no loos for visitors on the third floor), check whether the fire alarm panel is still bleeping away merrily on the wall next to the drinks machine (I need to report
on the State of Play to Mr B’s brother) and pick up a pint of milk for my not-so-patient Patient.
Actually, to be fair, Mr B has been one of the model
patients on a ward with several difficult customers. Many the time I have heard a nurse chide a recalcitrant type with a gentle: “Why can’t you be good like Bri-anne?” I may find myself calling him Bri-anne when he comes home, it has a certain
ring to it, don’t you agree? Especially if he continues to be good.
After lunch I head off home for a bit of a break and here’s where my sweetly pleasurable
routine comes in. Out of the hospital, across the road, and I set off through beautiful Beach House Park, where all the daffodils (favourite flower of the Youngest of the Darling Daughters) are coming into bloom, trumpeting the spring as only they can do.
I pass the mound where the memorial to the Warrior Birds is now hidden behind iron railings. We used to be able to climb the stone steps to see the memorial close up but Elf and Safety has decreed this may be a dangerous passage so now you can only peep through
the railings - but if you know it’s there, you can spot it. I love the fact that there are pigeons galore congregating all around this part of the park, as if paying homage to their own Lost Heroes, the Warrior Birds.
Out across the main road and past the new swimming pool - we are going to bring the Trio of Rampaging Rascals here during the Easter holiday but only when we can count on the presence of three adults,
one per Rascal. We are sensible like that.
Here’s Gull Park, where on Saturday I enjoyed a brief respite from my Hospital Visiting Duties to play with
the Rascals, joined by Mr B’s brother, Mr H, who had almost as much fun as the littl’uns did. Here’s Coast Café where we ate an early Mother’s Day meal and where Faris apologised sweetly to the proprietor for the fact that he
and his sisters had made so much mess. Here’s the prom, with the sea sparkling in the sunshine. It’s such a lovely, refreshing walk from hospital to bus stop - you can understand why I’ve built it into my daily routine.
On the front doorstep at home, a cardboard florist’s box - inside a bunch of beautiful tulips from our lovely god-daughter, Pip. The message written in the enclosed card reads:
“I thought some spring flowers would bring a smile to your face.” That girl knows me so well.
Back in the evening, to spend the last few hours of visiting
time with Mr B (or Bri-anne, as I now like to call him). He has been moved into a room of his own and is possibly regretting the move from the six bed ward which, though noisy, did have a lot of passing interest going on. It’s a case of being careful
what you wish for, I think.
Hopefully tomorrow I will be able to take him home. The occupational therapist is giving me lessons in the use of a particular
piece of equipment which will make life easier when we do get home but, scarily, I am required to demonstrate my proficiency before Mr B (or, even, Bri-anne) will be allowed out of hospital and into my Tender Loving Care.
Oh, the pressure!