“We don’t have the luxury of being complacent. So, no more getting up in the morning and reading the Guardian and calling it a day. You have to act at the end of the day; you have to do something.”
“It’s not about money. There is just no excuse for doing nothing. Abdication is not a possibility. Whoever you are, wherever your interest lies, whatever you’ve fallen in love with, you get out of bed every morning and you do something. You act, you step into the fray, and you fight for a human society that is in balance with the natural world.
“We have no choice. Otherwise we might as well kiss our beautiful planet goodbye. I will be there in Patagonia till the day I die. That’s the idea.”
This was the view as we walked back from the hospital today after visiting my nan. The reality of the situation is hard to brush under the carpet, especially when I am dealing not just with my own emotions, but those around me. My nan is an important connection to my childhood for many reasons. She looked after Simon (my twin) and myself when we were small, because we were a handful for our often struggling parents. She did that in the flat she still lives in, a very physical reminder of almost 43 years of life. There will be a lot of things to come to terms with, and that day feels like it just got closer. For now, my nan is as comfortable as she could be and I'm trying to enjoy small moments with her. I hope she can come home soon.
I spent many hours in Brighton's A&E department last night. My 92 year old nan was ill and needed help. I had no entertainment whilst we waited for different nurses and doctors to do their thing as I've ditched my iPhone for my own health reasons, but that gave me plenty of time to observe and think. It made me think how different our healthcare would be if it were private. It made me think what a debt of gratitude we should have for all those people (many from outside the UK) that work tirelessly to keep the NHS going. I observed workers having to deal with difficult (drunk) patients, doing everything they could to stop them inflicting even more damage to themselves. When the senior consultant came to see my Nan, he gently held her hand, talked and listened to her in such a calming way, whilst the cacophony of sound around us did its best to distract. It warmed my tired heart.
As of writing my Nan is stable in hospital.