I detest the things.
My earliest memories were of strict Ward Sisters putting a stop to our fun (she called noise) and having to sit for hours waiting til Mum could visit.
My youth was spent visiting Mum or Dad in various wards of our local hospital, never with my brothers you’ll note.
This continued long into my adulthood as angina, slipped discs, strokes and cancer affected Mum and Gran’s health failed.
And then Ashley came along and the wards were all revisited, some had even changed their uses and some were new.
It shocked Gill a little that I walked straight through the maze of corridors straight to a nominated ward, so sure was I of the layout.
Today it was Ashley’s turn again.
Just as his confidence is at a peak with his new walking skills too.
His right hip, or knee (we’re not sure yet) has begun to fail. He limps and cries.
An examination by physio followed by an x-ray and blood tests revealed nothing.
They are guessing that it’s an injury he’s picked up that no-one spotted.
It’s an easy guess. His legs and feet are malformed so strains are likely.
Seems wrong for the little man to have something else to challenge him.
Painkillers and such and a light regime of walking til it heals.
Poor bugger.
