Whenever medical staff enter my neighbour Margaret's hospital room, I always get up to leave. She always says "you can stay" in a way that is clearly more instruction than invitation. So today I witnessed the wound being dressed again. There was a lot of scrubbing going on. The wound care nurse explained that healing was improved if blood supply could be increased to the site. You have to be cruel to be kind, he said. Okay then. Like everyone else entering Margaret's room at the moment he was wearing a mask, gloves and disposable gown. Margaret's room-mate until yesterday has been diagnosed with the flu and moved into a private room. Until the swabs taken on Margaret are returned, she is also treated as an infection risk. The last thing a hospital needs is more flu patients. The last thing an 89-year-old woman being treated for a leg wound needs is a dose of the flu to go with it. Hospitals really are the simultaneously the best and worst place to be when you are sick. I'm told the wound is healing nicely. I guess not weeping is an improvement. Managing not to weep while watching all this is also a big tick or Susan. Let's just hope it works
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