on my mind...

... being stuck on the chaise longue means my mind is not fully occupied, and in that state is liable to return repeatedly to subjects that are intriguing and/or worrying. Since talking to Mary recently about being in hospital for nearly two years as a child, and her saying it was amazing it hadn't affected me more, I have been trying to understand what effect it has had on me.

At that time - the early sixties - many children were kept in hospital for long periods and there was little appreciation of the traumatic effects of being away from parents, home, and normal life. Visiting hours were very restricted - I saw my Mum twice a week for two hours, and the ward regime was pretty harsh, with little support or love given to children who were lonely, scared and confined to bed for long periods.

The ward sister and the ward cleaner ruled us with a severity and harshness that even at the time were a cause for concern amongst their colleagues - I was for a while moved from the children's ward to the plastic surgery ward (Denton 2), and I can remember receiving special care from the sister and nurses who seemed to understand that the children on Astins 2 ward had a hard time.
One thing that troubles me greatly still, is that my father died whilst I was in hospital and I cannot remember how I was told the news of his death -

you'd think I would remember something like ....

... why can't I remember?