I have to say there were some really good nurses who shone so bright they made the bad ones look really bad. Many of the latter liked the fact that they spent much of their day sitting around and chatting, punctuated by sporadic outbursts of violence, followed by more tea.
Allowed out for a short stroll, I see some nice juicy blackberries just asking to be scoffed.
A shout goes up, “He’s eating berries!”
The watching carers give chase. I have no chance; they’re too close. They pile on top of me like a rugby scrum… and carry me back to the ward like hunters with a trophy kill.
Playing for the cows
My trumpet had somehow got to the ward. Unfortunately it was too loud to be playable anywhere in the hospital. Outside though was OK. I found a nearby gate leading to a field, in which, at the far corner, was a herd of cows.
As I started to play, I noticed the cows slowly ambling towards me. It wasn’t long before they’d pushed right up as close to the gate as they could. It was probably the biggest audience I’d ever had. Who knows what the future holds? Today a Coventry cow field, tomorrow the Albert Hall?
Songs for the students
A new bunch of student nurses arrive on the ward. I’d recently started writing songs and this news filtered out to the nurses.
One, with startling but beautiful red hair, asked me to write one for her. So I wrote a ditty entitled ‘Flame Red, she’s stalking the night.’ I didn’t make a copy of it. Although I don’t remember much of the lyrics, the tune is still clear in my memory.
Anyway, two things happened. She loved it, and her two fellow student nurses wanted songs too. I did manage this, but I have to confess the muse had rather deserted me.