Recovery by Leslie Pardoe
'It's over!' as darkness split and evaporated and pain blossomed like a scarlet
Chrysanthemum growing and strengthening in the radiance.
'Painkillers written up,' said an adjacent voice as he cried out. The flower
disintegrated into withered petals, fading to nothing.
Eight beds, more nurses, an ant-heap of purposeful activity. Demands. 'Is your pain moderate or severe?' nodding at his floundering assessment. ~Breathe deeply-your Oxygen levels are dropping.' ‘Wiggle your toes.' Struggle to comply. One patient wheeled out and another wheeled in, one out, one in} one out, one in, as the darkness crept in from the corners again. 1Stay awake!' Another out, another in. The scarlet bud burst and spread again, and he gasped. 'Okay. Done,' and the blossom drooped, crumpled and vanished. Four hours then. Waiting for a bed. How long? 'Not lon&' said a foreign voice with the creak of a chair. 'Where are you from? I have friends along the road from there. They birdwatch on the marsh.' He smiled remembering the Brent geese. 'Yes! They like them too. And the egrets.' More birds lifting into sunrise, strong wings beating like a heart into spring. 'Look! You can go now. Nice knowing you.' A wave and he was back to work. The trolley jerked and moved. 'That was his coffee break,' said the porter. 'moved her lips to speak,’ -'He smiled remembering .... '