After waiting downstairs in a spare room I was assigned a room on the children’s Treetops ward, which was on the second floor. The room smelt like a first aid kit and the walls were painted a ghastly green colour. My mum stayed with me the entire time, even through the night. Before I went to sleep I asked if I could have any dinner. I was starving! The last time I had eaten was at around 3pm when I had my snack with my sister. Now she was at home eating pizza with dad, getting her bag ready to stay at gran’s, while I stayed in hospital.
Having missed dinner there wasn’t any food on offer but there was a small cafeteria where you could make tea, toast and get biscuits. So, we had no choice but to feast on cups of tea, toast and custard creams. After midnight I wasn’t allowed to eat anything as I was having my operation first thing in the morning. I was their main priority since I had an open wound and this meant it had a risk of infection.
I didn’t get much sleep that night because every hour I was routinely awakened by nurses coming in to take my pulse and blood pressure and to give me antibiotics and painkillers (I was very drugged up). I must have finally gotten some sleep as I woke the following day to a blinding light seeping through a crack in the curtains and birds chirping outside. Before waking my mum up, who was still fast asleep, I watched the sun continue to fully rise from my hospital bed.