For other posts from the ED- take your pick I’m rather proud of my ability to find humour in things others are reviled by or at least uncomfortable with; it has certainly helped me throughout my time in hospital and beyond. In all of life’s ups and downs, seeing the funny in something can be the slither of hope. If I can still laugh, I can still live. With that in mind, I bring you the tales of Barbara and an unnamed gentleman, both of whom I came across in my first twenty four hours in Bay 13. Stories I could twist any which way, but will try to find the funny in. While I hope Barbara (not her real name) and the man I describe are well now, I also hope my lottery ticket wins next week. My troubles felt as if they paled in significance with those of the poor souls who wandered or were escorted through the ED. It made me feel sane, then guilty for being that selfish. Every person has layers, levels, branches. Only it seemed the leaves were falling from many of these poor tree
In the morning the policemen went to open the cell, there was all manner of noise and banging coming from it. On opening the door they were knocked aback by the odour of excrement, and then physically by a fattened pig charging past them, snorting its fat head off. The man was nowhere to be seen; quite a mystery! The police captured the pig and it was sent to a farm to roll around in muck for the rest of days, for after all it was no better than a beast, and beasts are happy in muck.
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