Life is slow from a hospital bed (FD +3)

I’d never really thought about the pace at which I live my life.  The heart attack has forced me to think about everything I do.  I guess I’ve been “flat out” or “dead stop”:

  • Up and out in the morning.  I rush around the office, walking a little bit faster than everyone else.  Juggling balls as I go.  I’ve even realised that I shower and clean my teeth fast, hard, with vigour.
  • When I’m not working, I’ve tried to do nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Resting from the exertions of work.

Life is slow from a hospital bed.  I’ve only been here three days, but it seems like for ever.

I guess things will take time to feel normal.  At the moment it’s not possible to walk (shuffle) around without worrying about something going wrong.  Every twinge is a possible emergency (and there are a lot of twinges!).  Showers are a deliberate affair.  Tooth cleaning delicate.  The vigour is gone… for the time being at least.

Even just lying peacefully I can feel every heart beat.  A constant reminder.

Modern TechnologyMy final hours in hospital are spent watching the cricket.

Apparently, up until recently, TV was “not allowed” for the first week after a heart attack.  After “Saving Private Ryan”, I have some sympathy with this view.  I am fortunate however that the cricket isn’t too much of a contest, the South Africans kindly capitulate removing any tension.

Then it’s goodbye… and home!

5 thoughts on “Life is slow from a hospital bed (FD +3)

  1. Bill King


    Ya big bampot!!! We will make a West of Scotlander out of you yet – could you go a fried mars bar right now or what?

    I have just done the “You’re not from Bristol” story in the office. I am now going to tell you after months/ years of working with you – “you have a great sense of humour”. I am sad that it took a visit to hospital under these conditions that made you start the blog, but f##k me you can tell a good story. You are a very funny f##ker. (And that is me keeping clean – Ed)

    Anyhoo – hope you keep taking the pils and it would be absolutely heavenly to see you stagger around the office (when you are ready) – I have got a large number of time sheets that need signing

    Wishing you a slow and relaxing recovery

    All my love



    1. Paul Squire Post author

      Thanks Bill! Luckily for you I am practising my signature. I won’t have a scooby what my password is, but your time sheets will be in good shape! Take it easy! Paul.


      1. Philip Squire

        Sorry I’m new to blogging and playing catch up a little, but I’m now signed up.
        I’ve read every word and I’ve identified the underlying issue you have…the message you’re really trying to pass on to your family, friends & followers…you have a problem cleaning your teeth, correct? Have you considered an electric toothbrush? An electric model will do all the vigorous brushing while you and your achy breaky heart can relax, whilst gently moving the brush from tooth to tooth. Christmas is coming up…no need to write to Santa, I’ve taken the hint!!
        Great to see you’re making fantastic progress.


    2. Philip Squire

      Very funny, but some of this content is a little close to the edge. There are grandmothers following this blog.
      Kind regards,
      Mary Whitehouse



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