Bay Watch 1

The first seven months or so of 2010 were dominated for me and my close family by my second heart attack, the diagnosis of its underlying causes, and the twice-postponed triple by-pass operation performed at Papworth Hospital. As therapy during my stay in hospital I wrote a series of Bulletins describing my experiences and observations. These were posted on the staff notice board of my school, Orwell Park. Several colleagues remarked on their hilarious nature, so I've posted them here.

Bulletin 1: Monday 19th January 2010

Bay D of Claydon Ward is part of the hospital's CMU: Cardiac Monitoring Unit (an abbreviation, not an acronym). It is an interesting world, with four inhabitants. In the inside left position is your Senior Master, easily the most junior of the quartet. To my left is the lady I'll refer to as 'Doris'. She has a pacemaker, does not move or talk much, and looks decidedly unwell. Opposite Doris and diagonally left from me is 'Joe', who is hard of hearing. He over-uses his call-button and because of a hip replacement has trouble maintaining the accuracy of his urinary ejections. On Joe's left and directly opposite me is 'Bert', who spends much of the day staring blankly into space. He expels air volubly and randomly from either major corporeal extremity without warning. I've heard the word 'Papworth' mentioned so I think he's in a serious way, too. He is certainly older than Hunt.

I am writing at the beginning of Day Two, and no words have been exchanged between the quartet thus far. This suits me fine: I have plenty to read (more of this anon, no doubt).

Breakfast. The lady with the breakfast trolley asks Joe whether he would like sugar on his cornflakes. He replies, "Toast". Her assistant enters with a wasted bowl of cereal: a half-wit in a neighbouring Bay has poured orange juice over his cornflakes. "I thought it was milk", he allegedly said. I thought these fluids were colour-coded.

It is easy to see how insanity can set in. I'm wired to a screen via a three-metre cable, and this determines my bounds of exploration. Most dogs have greater freedom of movement. It is especially annoying since I feel perfectly fine. Yesterday I was forced to watch a DVD on heart attacks: quite literally, compulsive viewing. It listed all the causes, but didn’t say that walking through an icy Nacton on Wednesday could lead to trouble on Saturday. Do I have a legal case here?

Less than an hour to afternoon visiting time, a highlight of the day. I don’t have the technology to transfer this text electronically, so I'll ask our daughter Helen to type it up and post it in the Staff Room. Further postings will, I hope, follow, but will depend on the availability of typists and their leisure time!

I send everyone best wishes and sincere apologies for the cover-duties you will very likely be clobbered for over the next few days. I'm sorry I'll miss MFL day - but as you know, most of these tongues are just bad Latin, anyway.