Did you know that there is a secret rail link between Antrim Area Hospital and Trans Coleraine Train Station?
ell, I went on it twice with a nurse from the hospital.
Let’s call her Dorothy, even though I’m not her friend.
She has the air of a Putin and her only role seems to be to advise me for touching her oxygen mask.
I was in the hospital after being hospitalized for Covid seriously ill and spent the first time in happy oblivion as the doctors worked their magic.
My wife, Eileen and family are constantly on the phone fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Their prayers were answered.
My train ride came as I was brought out of my coma and beginning to recover.
A kind doctor overheard me talk about the secret railway and pointed out the medicine chests in the intensive care unit.
It was this lifesaving cocktail of drugs that gave me hallucinations.
No rail links, or Dorothy, no matter how real they appear.
Neither team of doctors I imagine works in intensive care. The quarrel between a young consultant and the head of the department and resulted in one banging the other’s head with an empty box of cookies is another imaginary event.
Yet another production that rattled my mind was a scene of a group of teenage soccer players crammed together on a large bed to watch a televised match.
Now, that seems strange, even to me.
But one group that I never fantasized about are nurses.
Imagine dealing with a flood of patients who can’t get out of bed and all the bodily functions that nurses have to tend to.
When you get into the ICU, you leave your dignity behind – but it’s all the nurses’ day job.
As I continued to improve, I often saw nurse-like figures emerge from the darkness of the deepest winter at 4 a.m. to begin a 12-hour shift.
These crazy xenophobic Brexiteers should spend some time in the hospital to see the NHS saved from total collapse by the men and women who came to work in our hospital.
They come from many regions of the world, with major routes from India and the Philippines.
A nurse in my department traveled from the Dominican Republic with her homesick Northern Irish husband.
She worked in a convenience store, then a care home, and finally at Antrim Area Hospital. She is currently studying for a full nursing degree.
Hearing her story makes people wonder about those who accuse immigrants of being idle and taking jobs from locals.
Critics are always scrambling while filling their pockets with DLA and other benefit checks.
What is most striking about the nurses who have looked after me in both Antrim Area and Royal Victoria Hospital is that they do not complain or pity themselves about how underpaid they are.
Of course, they want to pay better.
Hard to believe that the CEO at Stormont has repeatedly denied them equal pay to their colleagues in other parts of the UK and never had the courtesy to apologize.
The first strike in the history of the Royal College of Nursing resulted in a pay cut if they were given a deserved raise.
Covid has left its mark on me. Liver damage and kidney concerns at one stage contributed to the total 13-week hospital stay, most of which was unexcused.
Christmas comes and goes with the minimal touch of my family.
Many other families are not so fortunate, because their loved ones did not survive the pandemic, and I am indebted to the doctors and nurses for everything.
As recovery continues, the absence of guests leads to feelings of isolation.
One day is combined with another, and procedures such as X-rays or other scans are almost welcome to break the monotony.
Hopes of being discharged and returning home are periodically raised, then dashed when another problem emerges.
Even when I was finally allowed to go home, I developed a severe infection that required me to go back to the hospital.
Recovery is minor for now, although my condition continues to be monitored through a series of day clinics.
I’ve been back to A&E on a couple of occasions recently and reports of staff being under pressure have made them unfair.
On one occasion, it took 17 hours to see a doctor.
Some other people stay in bed for significantly longer than emergency patients like me.
Even finding the room to conduct the tests proved very difficult.
An area that looked like the reception area in the war zone.
Sadly, these pictures did not appear on television showing the conditions in which doctors and nurses had to work.
Perhaps the public can force Stormont to loosen its purse strings.
There is nothing more pressing in our society today.
https://www.independent.ie/news/my-covid-coma-led-to-delusions-but-i-know-angels-exist-41447963.html ‘My Covid coma led to delusions…but I know angels exist’