Room 9, Bed 2
With Covid I seem to get my post in a bunch...once a week on average t would seem. This week I received a tax rebate, some junk mail, a small gift of an oil pourer from the delightful Veronique, a couple of rainbow T shirts and a franked letter from my local hospital. The hospital letter concealed another letter, hand written and clumsily addressed to Nurse John Gray, Intensive Care Unit, Glan Clwyd Hospital, North Wales. Someone on the unit had kindly remembered me and had taken the time to redirect the letter. Even so the letter was dated May 30th. I read the letter. Then I read it again and I remembered the man who was it’s subject matter It was written by the man’s sister. A woman I have absolutely no memory of . The man was an attractive Suffolk farmer in his thirties. Dark haired and sunburnt He was paralysed from the waist down following a tractor accident on his father’s farm. The farm was mostly arable but also specialised in heavy black faced Suffolk sheep and James, was thei...