Nurse Station

5th December 1996 Post-Operative.

Why can't I lie on my side? These sheets are heavy weights. Bed's hard. Who are they and where are they going; let me me see. You're pulling at my skin. What the f***k are those? Hanging bags: scarlet, clear and cream. Drip. Drip into my vein. Through a butterfly...
Let me sit up. Let me rise. Shall I scream for help or wait? Passive. Wait until someone passes. I know what that's for, the paper mache box with the big hole . What chance. Eyes close. Pictures on the backs of my eye-lids. Biology lesson, 16, a rat hammered to a board and dissected. Found babies inside. I am too young for this. This never should of happened to me. Let me sleep. Can't. Flies buzzing around my bed; nagging. Go away please I just want to sleep. It's a nurse. Nurse with big hands. She smells of lavender and sweat. She's had a long day I bet, but she can go home now. Stop crying prick; as if she cares.
Rank bad smell everywhere. Boiled vegetables and burnt meat. Sleep.

Awake. It's dark and I feel different. Another nurse, a silhouette, a reflection in a window. She's close, I can feel her . Raise my neck to check her out. Pale and plump, just a child. Grey pinstripe trouser-suit. A student. Nasty smell of garlic on her breath. Please don't leave me with her. Drip. Drip into my vein. Bed's rising. Head hurting. She's calling me babe. No, you can't say that; I am, I've forgot, about 30 perhaps, she  looks about ten. Now she'll ask me where I am, my date of birth. Always answer correctly. Get out of here.
Bed raised. I can see everything now. Curtains open. Worse than I expected. Shit. Frightened. Dark. Only candle light. I can see their shapes. Little hillocks. Sandbags hiding  4 sleeping bodies. I need to get back to before. Christ, a tear.

No tears. I am conscious. Oh this f***ing place. They should sluice it down and wash away all the death. Here again, I knew it.. Don't cry. I am crying. I will smash this place up; punch holes in the walls, over and over again. I will break every pane of glass, rip every pipe from these old hospital walls. My alma mater. Hatred of my heart. I want  to lie down again. I  feel sick.