To Paris by hospital bed

Day two of my Hospital-Holiday.

In the olden days (1970/80's) this hospital was nicknamed the Wilton Hilton. Well, I would not go as far as to say that I am staying in a luxury hotel, but I can say that so far I have been able to rest a lot. A lot!
(And trying to think about the likely possibility that there are people lying on hospital trolleys in A&E, desperare for a bed...)

Although my 5 day stay was booked months in advance, with a clear plan, and vision of what needed to be done, nothing happens here until you are actually in the door.

On Monday, physiotherapy, occupational therapy, etc were requests, but so far I have seen no one. Apart from a dietician who could not really help me (asked about FODMAP diet- story for another day). And had chat with neurologist -registrar. Who almost breached the ME -CFS divide. Almost.

So, I have been spending another day resting, reading, meditating, eating and sleeping. And having chats and laughs with roommate 'JK'.

(I am still in the same room as yesterday Happily.

JK. told me of a day-dream he had.

In a nutshell: He was lying on his hospital bed, and made his way out through the door, into the hallway, and onto a busy street in Paris. Only by seeing my face on the other side of the room, did he realise where he really was.

The joys of escaping our confinement in location and bodies, brought us much laughter. Possibilities were, and are, endless!

We also talked about books, and audiobooks, and the NCBI extensive audio book library

I looked online to see if I could find a free downloadable audio book for JK today.

"What is your favourite author?" 

Ahhhh, now that is difficult ...

Favourite book, topic, genre?

There were just way to many possibilities.

But the one author, or book which my roommate desperately tried to remember, and not just today, but for days, would simply not come into that part of the brain which can spew it out of one's mouth. (Remember Brian Brain post of a few days ago?) 

Having very little else to do, I suggested to do a "Google-Quick-Pick". We might strike lucky.

Key words decided upon were: American author 30's, 40's novelist 

We settled on the page with Top 20 American novelists. I read them all out. J.D. Salinger gave some glimmer of recognition. 

Then: "Yes! That is it! The Catcher in the Rye."

JK. Laughed. We both laughed. 

Aware also, of these amazing little moments, when you are in the right place at the right time. 

Even if that meant being severely debilitated by M.S., and for me being less debilitated by M.E, and both being stuck in a hospital bed.

None of that mattered. 

None of that had more importance than this gorgeous moment of knowing.

Roll on day 3.

Ps. I wrote this while sitting in my wheelchair by an open window in the hallway (6pm).  When I wheeled myself back to room 2, I saw this in the floor: a sheet of stickers with the words 'physiotherapy'! 

A sign?  😀