Fire emergency at UHW

Only a few hour's dozing. The noise on the ward of staff conversations through the night and automatic doors next to my bed crashing open violently at random times overnight was enough to ensure my blood pressure remained dangerously high. I can't recall feeling as ill as this before. Being disturbed from semi consciousness every four hours and having the monitor cuff over-inflated on my strained upper right arm was painful and contributed to a doubtful reading of my state when not being violated by this device. Stupid compliance to routine, not patient care. My muted cries of pain ignored.

I was overtaken by diharrea on my way to the toilet, abd had to borrow hospital pants a bit too small for me.

Clare brought in spares after lunch plus chargers and mail.

It's Sunday. I asked Rhys to arrange a Communion visit. No result. I could hardly do anything apart from doze. I couldn't read the office or liturgy of the Word. All I could do was entrust myself to being held in the moment and carried, with few if any words of prayer. No expectations, or consolations, just gratitude for each moment of need met by strangers in hospital uniform. A dark night for the mortal coil if not the soul. I was reminded of my covid exile in Ibiza when my surgical wound got infected.

End of the morning the ENT resident doctor visited, and engaging attractive woman with whom I had a good clear conversation about my hypersensitivity to a stressful environment boosting my blood pressure. She prescribed a pill that would reduce my systolic reading. The diastolic reading is OK-ish it seems. Within an hour of taking the first pill, and having supper omelette and chips, the fire alarm went off. I was half asleep by then, It was agonisingly loud. I took off instinctively fleeing the noise out of the first floor ward and walking down to the upper ground floor entrance bare footed, the acrid fumes of an electrical fire in the air. One of the scanners in medical physics had overheated due to the 30C heat. 

My phone wasset to 'do not disturb'.  It was an hour later Matthew, a ward orderly tracked me down standing near a staircase entrance and exit with fresh air blowing in. Hospital radio chuntered on, with nothing useful to say that could ease the situation with advice to patients and staff to keep phones on and go on foot as lifts were out of action. 

I watched the fire brigade arrive, all six machines and their amazingly fit teams in heavy gear despite the heat. The alarms stayed active for another hour although it was by then safe for Matthew to escort me via the back stairs to return to the ward. It was providential the systolic lowering drug was already taking effect. It was nearly sunset already. It was still noisy on the ward. Without ear plugs and a blindfold it would have been unbearable.