At this point, I had little experience in hospitals. I have scant memories of being in a hospital when I was a small child, but I have no idea what for.  I guess in the 1950s, kids were getting stuff that has now been effectively written off by vaccines.  When I was a “boy soldier” in 1972 (age 16), I did spend a night in a medical centre after being knocked out in boxing training (…… you should have seen the other guy!). I spent 3 hours in a German hospital in 1997 (age 42) after falling off a military vehicle in the middle of the night, ending up with bad hip pain (…… I can assure you no alcohol was involved). In 2002 (age 47) I had a minor operation to repair ‘tennis elbow’ – I don’t even play tennis

Now in 2010 aged 54, I’m in a ward full of sick people, most looking sicker than I looked or felt. The food was excellent in that hospital, which is curiously one of my memories of the visit. Other memories include machines making constant bleeping noises, particularly at night, stopped only by a nurse pressing some button or changing a med. Other noises included people shouting out in their sleep or shouting for nurses and doctors (and their mothers), some people appeared to be shouting in pain. I’d forgotten that people die in hospitals, they can be scary places. 

After breakfast, I was told the doctors wanted a CT scan and was waiting for this to happen. Normal ward activity went ahead, and I ordered the dinner of Roast Beef plus ‘custard and jam roly-poly’ for dessert. They did ask me what I wanted!  UK peeps will know about this dessert and if you’ve never had it, you’ve not lived a proper life   p.s. “Dinner” on a Sunday in UK is actually at lunchtime!

When my lovely looking meal arrived, I still hadn’t been given any instructions for timings for the scan.  However, after only one bite of delicious roast beef, a nurse ran in and shouted STOP, the night shift had forgotten to put ‘nil by mouth’ sign above my bed. I was whisked away to the scanner – I guess the radiologists made allowances for that small bit of food (which had probably only made it as far as my stomach). I did ask them to put my meal in the oven, but I never did see that meal again.   I suspect health and safety were involved.  Later that day I had to have two teas, but I don’t mean cups of tea (although that was also provided).  In parts of the UK, the term “tea” is often used as signifying a late afternoon or early evening meal.  More common on a Sunday. 

After they had a look at the CT scan output, the IV antibiotics (Ceftriaxone) was stopped (they could see it wasn’t an infection).  The rest of the day was just relaxing. As I was to spend another night in the ward before being discharged, I decided to get some sleep that afternoon knowing the night period would be interrupted by the ‘bleep bleeps’ and the shouts of those worse off than me. I also needed some sleep ready to meet an Oncologist in 24 hours’ time, he was going to give me something called a diagnosis ……..