A is for Accident*

Ouch, I think, waking up on the floor in a tangled mess of drain tubing. Am naked – dont know what has happened to my nightwear: secret support top and hospital knickers. Pressing my buzzer, hoping for help, scratching my arm. Whole body itches.
“That’s a good sign”one of the nurses says. “Shows that your skin’s healing.”

From my puddle on the floor, pressing my buzzer it to attract someone’s attentions, I feel invisible.

Am in a messy puddle but no-one rescues me or  and puts me back to bed.

Wandering into the corridor, I see a nurse.
“I fell out of bed,” I say. “On topped my desk be and they itch,” this isn’t making any sense realise onlvfbimnnnnnn,  -maybe it’s the material or…
“Please may I have my morning Meds and…”
“I’ll look on your chart,” she says.

Back in my room, There’s a knock on the door. Two nurses wheeling a large trolley.

“Here’s the oramorph  ,” the younger one says, hanging it to me in a tiny pot. Draining it, I return the pot.

“Now, we’d to check your blood pressure,”the older nurse says.

Attached photo of Trice.  Suzy procured him.
Happy Thursday everyone.
 2003.  Recording.  the Dresden dogs

6 thoughts on “A is for Accident*

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