Yes it is! It’s my best friend, Pam, in the bed opposite. It’s only a small ward of 4 and how strange that she is there, right opposite. ‘Hello Pam’ – no response. I walk over to her and say it again –‘ Hello Pam’. This time she does respond – ‘My name isn’t Pam’. I try to explain to her that she definitely is Pam and proceed to tell her some of her life story – where she was born, her work history, family details etc. After all, I had known her for over 40 years, ever since our sons had attended primary school together. I could have gone on all day about who she was, what she’d done, how many children she had, and everything about her. At one time she had worked for my husband and I in our Post Office so I definitely knew her, as they say, inside out! Again, she said she wasn’t Pam. I retreated to the safe sanctuary of my corner of the ward. What WAS she playing at!
Over the course of the next couple of days I observed her, wondering why she denied who she most definitely was.
During this time my husband, unable to follow explicit directions to my own nightdresses at home, brought in a couple of new nightdresses for me. The nurses tried to get me into the first one but it wouldn’t go anywhere near. They did, however, manage to get me into the second one – it seemed a bit more stretchy. However, by stretching it width-wise it seemed to shorten it lengthwise and it only reached to just above my knees. By this time I think the nurses had had enough so they left me with strict instructions to sit with a blanket over my knees at all times .Whenever a nurse approached me they would make a dive for the blanket (which was never in the right place) in order to re- position it and make me look ‘decent’. I think my husband still observes me through rose-coloured spectacles and sees me as a sylph-like young teenager.
The lady opposite (Pam), who had observed all this pantomime, said she had a nightie at home that she no longer needed and she would ask her husband to bring it in.
The following day her husband (at least she said it was her husband – it wasn’t a bit like him!) brought in the article in question and she handed it to me.
Thank you Jennifer.
Author: Margaret
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