Monday, 31 August 2009


There is probably very little to recommend about the 16th floor of UCH. If you happen to be party to the stunning views and the care and attention of the amazing medical staff, then you are probably pretty fucking sick with some kind of cancer or another. Not the best reason to enjoy the spoils of room service and constant care. But at half past 6 on Saturday morning I enjoyed a moment of clarity and beauty that, had I not been on the 16th floor, I would otherwise have missed.

I woke sleep worn and dream torn to the early morning light spilling into the room. The light of a bright, blue, sunny morning tinged with gold and pink. A light refracted and dismembered by the blinds and glass slats that fill Paul’s hospital window. It was the kind of light you enjoy on faraway tropical beaches, the light you see from an aircraft window when you are soaring above the clouds in the quiet sky, untainted and pure. London is not a place usually viewed from the top down I’m usually peering at the sky from a twisting Victorian street. From the 16th floor the light bounces nowhere but up and all around. Seeing a sleepy city swaddled in mist and ethereal light - well it’s quite magical.

It was good to experience a night in the hospital. Obviously spending the night with Paul is the biggest plus but also just to see his routine, the obs checks and the rapport with the nurses. We got fish and chips and gherkins and watched telly and fell asleep across the way from each other. And in the morning I got breakfast and we watched all manner of crap Saturday morning telly. When I spoke to him tonight I could envision where he was sitting the light he had on and how it makes the room feel. It’s good to know those little details.

There’s not much to say treatment wise. Sit tight and dream of miracles and know that that power of my dreamboat is beyond the measure of doctors. I have been told to say goodbye to Paul twice before, he’s still here and he will defy them again.

I also know you read this blog from your hospital bed so I’m blowing you a kiss as I write Paul……..


1 comment:

  1. Hi Guys
    sorry to hear you had such a crap year
    i have a cafe in soutend on sea and could probably do some fund raising if you need it let me know
    Hannah keep your dream boat sails flying high and give paul a big hug from me
    keep posotive and i know that all the kitchen staff ever to have worked with paul in the fine lines will be chanting for him
    sending you good vibes and sea breezes from southend
    take care