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Saturday, 16 April 2011

A short story

As i don't have a computer with me in hospital, Im going to try and do some short blog posts. Although they always seem to end up as long ones. This one particularly.

I thought for this post i would write a little comparative story, so here it goes.

The person in uniform checks themselves over before approaching the small room. The uniform is neatly pressed with all the tools and accessories neatly clipped in place. A set of pens adorns the left chest as if to replace some medals or awards that were never given although in this persons mind should have been recognised many years ago and they shouldn't have to be pacing these corridors but should be of a higher rank earning twice the amount there on now. They do one final check before open the door. Ah the last thing needs to be added. The smile of persuasion!

They open the door and greet the person inside, a lone figure clearly in pain as he winces to try and turn to face them. His face covered in marks of his suffering and further shown by the lines under his eyes although these were overshadowed by the many lines in this mans face that seems to hide past pain and suffering.

The person in uniform gave no remark on his face or  the large red oozing patch on his side.

With the persuasive smile in place they ask for the mans possession. The man knew that he relied upon these possessions to manage the pain and suffering that he was experiencing. His wife had lovingly travelled many miles to obtain them and get them to him to eliviate the pain as soon as possible and now he was being asked to give them to this stranger with the smile.

He wasn't about to give them up so easily. Why couldn't he keep them himself. The person in uniform already had the answer. They had been asked the same question many times before, in fact from this same room only a few days ago, of course that person is no longer here! If you hand them over we can make sure they are looked after and secure, just in case anyone comes in that we don't know! That 'we' don't know. They were using the psychology skills they had been trained with, befriend the person, get them on your side.

It worked, although hesitant the man slid the packet that he clutched across the table, slowly releasing his grip. The person in uniform reached out and took the packet and at the same time as if to cheer at winning the mental battle, they let out a deep sigh of achievement. The man watched as she moved across the room, it was too late now, or was it? He thought about shouting out or leaping forward to get them back. It was too late the person in uniform had already reached the box on the wall. They unlocked it and placed the packet inside, closed it again and returned the key safely in a pocket of their uniform dedicated for this purpose.

Knowing their mission had been accomplished they turned around and marched towards the door, leaving the man with a few last words. This time though there was no smile. 'I will be back in a few minutes'

What were they coming back for? Why hadn't he been allowed to open and use the packet that his wife had travelled so far to bring. No sooner had he thought about these things when the door swung open. No polite knock this time... Right i have a list of things you can have. She read the list out and as she did she placed each item carefully in front of them on a trolly especially prepared for this purpose. It was a short list and missing some important items. The same items that were just locked away. The man asked for some of the other items that he owned to be returned to him. The person in uniform looked at him and with a wry smile said unfortunately if it isn't on the list you can't have it. The man tried to reason with them... But i use them every day. The person in uniform apologised and said unless their superior would authorise it they weren't going to unlock the box on the wall.  Recognising the name of the superior a sigh of relief came out of the mans mouth. Hope at last as the this persons superior was the same man that issued these small packets that would relieve his pain. The person in in uniform said they would try to get the list changed.  Turning around they left. The door closing behind them only to return a few hours later. It was too late.... The man was still there, but this time in much more pain. It was the same man but something was different. Maybe it was the few more lines on his face  or the trust in peoples smiles was gone. Either way it was going to be a few more hours before his pain was bearable again.


  1. Gosh I remember that tale all too well from Mike's time in hospital last year, he was left for 7 hours... yes 7 hours waiting for pain killers! Makes my blood boil to hear it happened to you too.

  2. That is torture... there is no other word for it. And totally unforgivable... and even worse, unnecessary. I am so SO sorry you had to go through anything like that and hope it never happens to you again.