Saturday 5 July 2025. It's weekend. Usually that means fewer staff but yesterday they were running on low numbers anyway. Our usual table by the window in the Day Room was free though and we were joined by one of the ladies from the women's ward.
The table had been set out already and looked very refined with a full set of matching China plates, cups and saucers. We started with cereals then moved onto a couple or more slices of toast, half a packet of butter and a pot full of jam or marmalade single portion tubs.
One of the physios came round to ask if I fancied a climb up the stairs. I agreed and was wheeled down the maze of corridors, past the gym and I realised that by "stairs" they meant a full uncarpeted very solid flight of concrete stairs.
The Physio nurses (there are two of them and both lovely) said they would support me but I asked for my walking stick from my room as I wanted to see how I could manage on my own after the fall which led to this 8 weeks and counting hospital stay.
With the stick in one hand and the handrail firmly gripped I took a deep breath and climbed the first step, one foot then the other. A bit wobbly but I did another, then another until I reached the top where I sank gratefully into a chair. I had done it... the same number of steps as we have at home! After a short while I swapped the stick to my other hand and went down, a slightly more scary climb as I was now looking down the drop before me. But slowly I reached the bottom and the physios were full of praise for me as I was wheeled back to the ward.
I asked to do a walk with the stick on the flat. It felt so familiar a thing to do. So since then I've not touched either wheelchair or Zimmer frame, but have walked with my trusty walking stick to and from Day Room and loo or bedroom. It felt good.
Someone said the photo of me and one of our little gang of three at the Breakfast Club was on the wall so I had a look and later was given an A4 sized copy which had been laminated.
But the ward sister had another challenge in mind... "John I want you to write us a jingle to promote the Breakfast Club and we can record it this afternoon." Blimey Charlie! Playing I've done. Singing I've done. Composing I haven't done since the 1970s when I played lead guitar in a Manchester band, Spiral.
But jingles are short and club rhymes with grub so it was finished in my mind by lunchtime with Miss Franny visiting to listen and bounce ideas off. I don't read music so the tune had to be composed and memorised. For a while it changed a bit every time I attempted to sing it...
The ward sister came back in the afternoon and I went to the piano. Now I can play keyboards fairly well. Pianos require a bit more work from your left hand and I am no Paul McCartney... With two nurses both videoing me on their phones I set off. The tune was something like the one I had tried so hard to memorise. It was also a little like the theme to the TV show "The Beverley Hillbillies". Take one tripped up on the last line. Take two was pronounced a success and a round of applause came from the patients and staff in the room.
My first performance since the cancer was diagnosed. But the achievement I was most happy about was undoubtedly the walking. I feel like home may be just days away.
Family Memories: Personal Index
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