Pains in the chest that woke me up at half three,

Ambulance to A & E isn’t where I want to be.

Trolley in a corridor,

Waiting for a doctor,

Nurses busy running round tryin’ to get the queues down,

Shiver while I’m waiting in a split-right-down-the-back gown.


Lying in the heart ward, wired up like a switchboard,

Watch the nurses passing, looking at their clipboard.

Tell me what the tests show,

Don’t you think I should know,

Couldn’t get to sleep cos all the other guys were snoring,

Blankets thin and twisted, mattress hard as boarding.


Waiting for the staff-nurse, waiting for the x-ray,

Waiting till tomorrow till I find out what the Docs say;

Lying here in limbo,

Still be here at Chrimbo,

Dinner unappealing, staring at the ceiling,

Wait for people stopping by to ask me how I’m feeling.


Consultant on the ward round, patients getting nervous,

Coming out with words like endocrine and epidermis.

Baffling the layman,

Holding court with housemen,

Scribble down instructions, detailing the ailment,

Prescribing medication, specifying treatment.


Tell me what the dose is, tell me the prognosis,

Atherosclerosis or a coronary thrombosis?

Do I need a surgeon,

Or cardioversion?

Give it to me straight Doc, don’t wrap it up in jargon,

Give me ten more years, and I’ll think I got a bargain.

◄ Christmas Is Coming

Theresa May Not ►


jennifer Malden

Sun 9th Dec 2018 16:58

No more nice comforting woolly blankets - just those cold synthetic metallic papery ones. Hope you are OK now if it was autobiographic?
Very enjoyable.


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Brian Maryon

Sat 8th Dec 2018 00:32

Isn't our NHS wonderful? Chin up Trev!

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