We had occasion to go to the Leeds General Infirmary last week, nothing too drastic, just an x-ray on Jodie’s hip joint, it been giving her some pain recently so our GP sent her for an x-ray to check it out, its fine the consultant said, whatever the pain is (and it sounds like muscular pain, or “growing pains” as my mother used to tell me) its not bone or joint related, which is good.
The LGI is a huge hospital, we have two hospitals in Leeds that serve just under one million people between them, so they are both huge hospitals and the LGI has over the years spread itself out over several inner city blocks, all linked by endless corridors, a person could get lost trying to find an x-ray department in the LGI so we took it slowly, stopping to throw white pebbles down on the corridors at frequent intervals in Hansel and Gretel stylee lest we not be able to find our way back.
And while we wandered the corridors of healing and investigation one thing struck me, hospitals only contain two types of people, sick young ones or old women.
The sick young ones are easily explained, they are sick, ergo they are in hospital, although some of them aren’t quite in hospital, the ones stood at the front door, smoking, in their pyjamas, they’re not quite in hospital or at least they are not quite going along with the raison d’etre for being in hospital – “You’re sick from smoking, come to hospital and we’ll make you better”, “OK, can I smoke while I’m there ?”, I don’t think they’ve quite got the point yet have they ?
Its the old women that are the mystery.
Hospitals are full of old women in woolen overcoats and hats with big pins stuck in them, or headscarves, all clutching huge big handbags, wandering the corridors.
They never seem to go anywhere or have any urgency to go anywhere so it can’t that they’re visiting someone, they just wander, usually with a smile on their face as if they know something that you don’t, like where is the x-ray department for instance.
We took a lift to B floor and in the lift was a young man who was lost and as we stepped into the lift he was being lectured by this little old lady in a big woolen overcoat and headscarf as to where the department was that he was looking for, and the most surprising thing was that he was a doctor and she was just a random little old lady who wanders the corridors all day long.
Its quite possible that the Leeds Hospital Trust actually employ these random old biddies to inform their staff as to where the various departments and wards are but rather than dress them in uniform so that the general public may use them too they keep them in disguise, exclusive use for staff only, with some sort of special brooch or hatpin or maybe even a secret handshake to signify that these are undercover Guide Lady’s.
The old lady in the lift got off on our floor and wandered down the same corridor that we did, she wasn’t going anywhere, it was obvious that she was just patrolling, she wasn’t looking at the myriad of signs directing you to all parts of the hospital, or following the red, blue, green or yellow lines on the floor depending on which wing you needed to be heading for, she was just…wandering.
And then a senior doctor stopped her and asked her where opthalmics was.
And at that moment I knew that I was right, she was an undercover hospital guide, staff for the use of, one of a series of super-biddies without whom the hospital would not function, or would at least function in a very tardy manner.
We nearly needed her on the way out as a cleaner had come and swept up all of our white pebbles, it was only through good fortune that we managed to find the exit by following a young pregnant woman in a nightdress on her way to have a smoke at the front door.
The smokers always know where the exit is!