Part 2.... Chapter 10

Oh, my, fuking, God!!! And everyone else’s.
I was woken up with sounds that made me think I was waking up on a train. With a runaway tea trolley being chased by an over sniffed energised enthusiastic speed addict. Followed by blasting tunes from the radio, which happened to be on the floor with its back against one of the centre pillars opposite my bed…. Fuking Hell Mun!....
It’s seven thirty in the fuking morning and I got to put up with this shite, are you fuking joking with me Rookwood.
 
As I started to think who the fuk this morning star was, she poked her head through the curtains and loudly vocalized, “Good Morning, cuppa tea, coffee?”, whilst she drew back the curtain. Before her hand had time to let go of its holding I told her to draw it back and it doesn’t get pulled open again until I’m ready.

I opted for a coffee and when she returned I asked her where all the noise came from and she said with a smile, "The tea trolley". I laughed, and notified her it sounded more like it was being pushed on a fast train not on the smooth hospital floor. She stated it was her fast walking and she couldn’t stop the cups and saucers jangling, clinking and clanking together. I concurred. Then stated back that the sound didn’t need to be so rushed, and that the invasion on waking up ears joined by the loud morning disco on the radio at 7.30 am in the morning, doesn’t help one like me apricate the start of her fuking day.
Her reply wasn’t of any concern to me as mine was to her, she just carried on serving the morning caffeine hit stimulant to the next victim.
 
I was right to call us inmates.
A capricious situation with me can be as volatile as a volcano fit and ready to blow. Spit out its red hot lava as far as its energy and power will permit. If I must be woken up every morning by the squeaky, in much need of oil, trolley wheels transporting clanking cups, and a blasting fuking radio. It’s going to be a very unpredictable stay with me here. Especially with a nurse who seems to think she’s quirky.
 
For me, all day today I have spent my time rolling from my left side to my right. Letting all systems go. I’ve had a few small conversations with the women on the ward and a few with the nurses. In general it’s been a boring dragging around the clock kind of day. Visitors coming and going, patients checking their weekly rota schedules then off they roll to their next class.
 
The food here is better than Morriston Hospital’s I’ll give it that, but it ain’t Michelin standard either ;-). Its bearable on a palate that can’t really taste so I guess anything will pass as tolerable.
 
More tolerable than my mines thoughts tho. My thinking of what and how I’ve landed here in this situation still bothers my thinking every night when I’m looking out at all the “disabled” bodies laying still trying to sleep.

My partner’s distant allurement is a temptation to question.
Questions my mind still doesn’t understand the reason for the wanting to ask. It’s a pull I cannot wheedle him into by means of cross reference to what he has already said. But his answers just aren’t sitting well with comfort and reassurance in my brain. Even though I can't and don't remember what happened myself. Is it wrong for me to say he seems to be coming across with sweet talk? I don’t know why I’m thinking this, but something deep in the creases of my brain are stirring something. His presence with the lines on his face and less sparkle in his eyes seem different and distant when I ask him if he’s ok. The talks of change to our future are all started by me, with his agreement on anything and everything I suggest. Just like before.
 
Again, I’m crying…. I need Aphrodite the Goddess of love and passion to shower herself upon him and the Goddess Fortuna to explain my fate. Before my next stage appearance with him is received with no applause….

It's another new day tomorrow, time to sleep now and get ready to salute the dawns rays, with energy, determination and smiles ;-) x