Passing time

It is now 11 years since our eldest daughter died. We live our lives, we enjoy happy times, but it’s not something we’ll ever “get over”.

Time moves on slowly in hospital. My neighbour for the night was a girl of 18 whose mother looked like a teenager herself. Brook had a broken collarbone she got in a fight with a nightclub bouncer. She was discharged this morning with the advice that stopping smoking would aid her recovery.

Today I’m listening to the radio, reading this engrossing book and another a friend sent. It was written by a doctor. One quote which I hope is not too apt goes


“If you fancy yourself as a surgeon, you can sign up to anything from colorectal surgery to cardiothoracics, neurosurgery to orthopaedics. (Orthopaedics is basically reserved for the med school’s rugby team. it’s barely more than sawing and nailing – and I suspect they don’t ‘sign up’ for it so much as dip their hand in ink and provide a palm print.)”

I can see I’m in good hands.