The last of those three cancer operations had been a close run thing, lasting many hours, and although unconscious , my subconscious spirit was aware of the desperate battle to keep me alive, by those dedicated doctors, technicians and nurses. Then many hours in intensive recovery and then at last being returned to my ward
This poem is of the true awakening, and the first person who greeted me back to the land of the living. I dedicate this poem to the nurses of Rotary Ward of William Harvey Hospital, Ashford, Kent, England, and that first person, Nursing Sister Barbara ( Babs) Wagstaff.
In that dream like state, twixt life and death,
I had pondered my fate, as I fought for breath,
My life passed before me, as the doctors they tried,
to kill all the cancer, giving no-where to hide
Such skills they had, as they saved my life.
Such joy they caused to my poor suffering wife.
No more to hear, "Goodbye dear old friend,
as back to my ward, to Rotary to mend.
I knew that angels had been so near,
singing so softly, to banish my fear.
Some then followed me, back to my room,
now faces familiar, in the vanishing gloom.
As I opened my eyes, feeling so weak,
wired and tubed, and unable to speak,
an angel spoke, "Hello my sweetheart,
this is the first day, that your new life will start."
That angel was Babs, our own Sister Wagstaff,
that nurse who can make just anyone laugh.
Such genuine kindness is hard to find,
love for her patients, is what comes to mind.
So thank- you Babs for just being there.
Thank you for your nursing care.
Thank you for "Hello sweetheart."
Thanks to the team, of which you are part.