The motto of Guy’s Hospital near London Bridge is Dare Quam Accipere – It is Better to Give than to Receive. At a future date I might get around to explaining how Guy’s, and that motto, came about, but right now I want to talk about how, the other day, I had the chance to put the motto into sort of practice at another hospital in the trust – St Thomas’.
I was discharged from Tommy’s a while back. It started with my broken wrist, and the wonderful folk in A&E; post surgery, I met the equally wonderful team at the fracture clinic; when they were done with me, I moved on to hand therapy.
My wrist continues to improve, though the cold weather, as the physiotherapist warned me, has brought new aches. Still, it’s an amazing outcome when you look at my x-rays.
So I wrote cards and bought fancy biscuits and headed back to the hospital. At A&E, I was hardly through the door before someone looked up and asked if they could help me. When I explained my mission and handed over card and biscuits, her stunned expression told me how rarely patients make that return journey to this department to thank the staff for their care at a critical moment.
It was a similar story in the fracture clinic. Hand therapy seemed more familiar with the idea, which made me reflect on how that was the only department of the three where I had an idea of when I would be discharged.
I left and walked onto Westminster Bridge filled with a warm fuzzy glow. On the bridge, I met these folk:
Out all day working – hurrah, some money! – theatre this evening, then a couple of drinks and some chat with a friend, so this post is a bit late. But hey, NaBloPoMo and not that long to go now to the end of the month and mission completed, etc etc.
I lit a candle today for a cat. He belonged to the neighbour who adopted Cat and his brother from the rescue centre. She is again working abroad, and decided the best thing to do was rehome her cat J.
Unfortunately, he did not settle. Always a cat with issues, he was peeing and pooing all around the house; upset and upsetting, A physical exam showed nothing wrong, and eventually his new owner decided to have him put down.
Today was the day he died. I was in Westminster Abbey so I lit a candle for him. There were prayer cards, and a notice that explained that prayers would be said at the shrine of Edward the Confessor for those named on the prayer cards if the details were given in clear print. Continue reading
My guidebook was a bit sniffy about Reims. It praised the cathedral, but described the town as dull. In the event, although I found the cathedral impressive, indeed beautiful, it would not be the reason I would return to the town, and I am not sure I would visit it again.
There are parallels with Westminster Abbey in London. Both are gothic, both the churches of coronation, though in the case of Notre Dame de Reims, it are obviously not expecting to gear up for another such occasion any time soon. In fact it didn’t feel that they would be gearing up for any religious occasion at all. I saw no sign that the church is used for its original purpose; no details about services, no busy clerics rushing by. Continue reading
Not Cat has been so forgiving and placidly accepting of everything he’s been through since being adopted by me that I was starting to think apart from keeping him cool in the car, journeys were not going be a problem.
We left London rather later than I’d been thinking, as on Thursday night I suddenly realised how tired I was feeling and decided against the alarm clock option.
We slept in until eight.
Do note the ‘we’. Not Cat has decided to spend at least part of the night on the bed, whoops, my bed I mean. Not up close and personal like Cat, who when he first slept over tried to tuck all five kilos of himself under my chin.
It didn’t work. Continue reading