So today after much whispering and nods in my direction had for decided I can go to the cafeteria, I was overwhelmed with happiness a this is a step towards getting out!  Then with a smirk  the evil bastard added “you cannot walk there however as the stres will set off the alarms on your monitor.”  Well the nurses, yes the cute one who blushes surprise surprise, agreed to take me in a wheelchair.
Now me, I was thinking that’s not so bad, comfy chair ride down to the cafe what could go wrong?  I did not notice the Gleam in her eyes. I should have ,so help me goddess I should have…
 First obstacle getting from the bed to the chair. The more observant of you will he save noted that I am six foot seven tall. And as such my body doesn’t fit regular size conformity. Also with being in bed for so long my muscles are still rather achey. So help is needed.  And the needed help came in the form of Janet. A rather cute five foot two nurse. She speaks Welsh.  Though I do appear to be teaching her Irish Gaelic swear words. 
Lifting me into the chair was not really an option. So twenty minutes were spent untangling me from the main monitors and arranging for a mobile monitor pack to take over. Then to add insult to injury my feet refused to accept the floor was there, and I fell some three feet to the flooring. Alarms sent the nursing world into panic as the fall dragged a wire from the socket. I have to say the mobile monitoring pack alarm  did nothing to steady my nerves or maintain low blood pressure!  But with an extra pair of hands I was finally able to be transferred into the carriage.
What followed was the amongst the  most terrifying moments of my life. As the calm sedate nurse became Lewis Hamiltons co driver from hell. And we set off for the doors. Double doors reign supreme in hospitals so that the beds can be accessed and traverse to operating theatres ect. This is a normality in most hospitals. The bit they don’t tell you, is how it feels yo be suddenly propelled down a corridor at what feels like high speed, in a sitting position. The words ” holy shit ” May have been hard more than one time, as I read towards doors that looked  like we would hit, but exactly narrowly avoided. 
Each door you hear the monitor start to get upset.  So swear in Gaelic, give her ” the look”  and try to breathe calmly as we navigate to the next corridor.  Then came the lift. Something I had not cop injured on was how a wheel chair user becomes head height for people gentials. And this astonishing now was over shadowed by the fact that if you are below their head height they ignore you. Now if you add the two together, what you find, is  that lifts become incredibly personal space where a prankster can be simply in heaven. 
Being the right height and able to pull off a series of noises from my collar sound box that are obviously not me as I smile. Gives opportunities to a person who doesn’t get out much. With care ah precision red faces came out of the lift and my humour was Sated. 
It was an event filled trip to the cafe. One that I will remember for some time.  It also signified the next step towards being released. And whilst the nurses of b129 ward 8 now know what an orgasm looks like on a cardiovascular monitor, I will miss the new friendships I have made here when I finally am free to go home.


I remain Rose Brightflame™

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