NHS Bed No2

By jking Feb 24, 2019

I unfortunately had a motorcycle accident and ended up in hospital for the first time ever in my late 40’s. Having worked in hospitals all my life, I thought I knew the score. This poem was written to show how different it is on either side of the line.

NHS Bed No 2

I’m stuck here for the duration, in NHS Bed No 2,
Relying on you for everything, even going to the loo.
That is what I’m known as, when feeling like a hinderance,
I make a small request and hear, “Bed No 2 needs assistance!”

It’s not my choice to be here, an accident was my fate.
I wanted a nice day out, then this landed on my plate!
I’ve never been in hospital and I’m not young any more,
But having worked in them all my life, I thought I knew the score.

How wrong was my perception from my lofty side of the line
It’s a very different feeling in less health auspicious times
Becoming a patient with no control, of anything you do,
When you eat, when you sleep and going to the loo.

Frustration builds and over time, can cause a bit of friction,
So please all staff have patience, with my control addiction.
If my addiction was alcohol, food, drugs or tobacco
The NHS has plans in place, to smoke, to drink or swallow.

But I am a wife and daughter, and used to full control
Of my life and bodily movements and it’s slowly destroying my soul
To be so helpless and reliant on others to support me,
So I’m politely sending all staff, my urgent little plea.

I really want to give your bed to someone more deserving,
But due to a twist of fate, Bed No 2 I’m currently reserving.
I’ll do my best to aid your day, if you will stretch your mind
To understand you could be me, if fate were so unkind.

It’s frightening and unnerving to be in this vulnerable state,
But a pleasant greeting, wave or smile can make me feel so great.
It’s not just about the medicines, the money, and the timing
What doesn’t cost a penny is, for a patient, the silver lining

That you see us as a person and not just a number to view.
Please hear this heartfelt message from NHS Bed No 2.

©Julie King 2017

About the author

jking

53 Up Votes

I'm a holistic therapist and medical secretary living in the North East of England. When I was 15 years old I wrote a short story for a school English assignment with the remit of putting yourself in the place of someone else. My story involved a person trapped at the bottom of cliffs with the tide coming in looking back over their life. The English teacher gave me a D (I was used to A's) and wrote "How can a dead person tell a story?". That comment knocked my confidence until the last couple of years when my husband encouraged me to enter a local short story competition. My story was an updated version of that original essay. It was published this year in the short story competition anthology book. I've now got the confidence to move forward, writing a series of books based on my life experiences and with a message you should never give up on something you love. I love writing, am loving life and strive to pass a little of that feeling on to anyone who isn't in quite such a good place.