Hospital food
He looked out the window at the peach dawn lighting up the sky as the last shreds of the night’s storm disappeared. He had turned off the light so he couldn’t see the room’s reflection.
The towelling dressing gown hung on his sagging shoulders and he pulled the belt tighter around him; looking at the sky made him feel cold but he liked to stand at the window and watch the dawn break; God knew he wouldn’t see many more.
Below, an ambulance pulled out of A&E with its lights blazing and sirens blaring; too late, he thought. The ambulances were the only constant as wave after wave of suffering was deposited at the entrance of the A&E. There were no more beds; only the lucky ones had beds. The rest were left in corridors; some didn’t even have a stretcher to lay on. He was extremely lucky, he had a room to himself; now.
The hospital now had no more space. It also had no more food. It probably had no more doctors; none had been round in 3 days. A staff nurse had brought the tray of food yesterday; he’d heard her tired breathing bubble in her chest on the other side of the door. This morning’s medications hadn’t arrived, and now probably wouldn’t ever again. He pulled the dressing gown tighter around his thin frame.
He was hungry, very hungry, but he’d only eaten half the food they’d left him the night before. The other patients in the room hadn’t eaten any of theirs. He looked at the two still forms lying in their beds, their faces still covered by their pillows.
He’d made sure they hadn’t.
My Words, My World 