Tender Poison

A Middle-aged man makes an effort to lighten the load of illness.

TENDER POISON

 

   The Christmas mail arrived on a wet, miserable day, two weeks before the start of the festivities. There would be one or two parcel deliveries later on the same day. Christmas is a time of joy, spending money that few have got to spend, and decorating even the meanest of streets with tinsel, baubles, and anything else that shines. However, without sunshine the wet decorations seem to add to the misery of the weather rather than mitigate it. Those who have to work away from home in such weather are afraid of receiving parcels which are left on the doorstep if there is one, with the horrible possibility of finding a soggy wet mess that encloses a ruined present.

The staff at the General Hospital, who were in the majority single, at Christmas time lived in fear of wet parcels. Those who were fortunate enough to have a partner or a willing neighbour weren’t put out by the rain or any other telluric event, however disastrous. The postmen went down the streets, avenues and roads delivering as fast as they could. The parcels service did their best in very unsatisfying conditions. Many times they had been accused by the receivers of parcels, of just chucking the goods by the front door, where they could be totally destroyed by the weather. Another problem was that if left outside, then anyone passing by would be able to help themselves to the parcel.

 

Back at the hospital, some of the patients had already been sent cards with the ubiquitous glitter and a fantasy scene of the nativity. The message, written by hand, would inevitably refer to people the recipient would neither know or have any interest in. ‘We’re having Christmas dinner with Jenny and family. Hope you have a happy stay in hospital. Love.’

That and other inane remarks, like, ‘Going on a Christmas cruise. See you when we get back.’ What? See them when they got back, with films and photos out of focus and backgrounds which might just as well have been taken in the local supermarket car park. Why mention the cruise? Was it to remind anyone that read it to say, ‘You might be stuck in a hospital bed, but we’re not.’

Apart from the deadly messages and cards, that were repetitions of those of previous years, the hospital personnel had put up some pathetic and sad-looking paper decorations and balloons that didn’t take long to begin attaining their saggy-baggy look. The view through the windows was dark, depressive and wet. The patients who had family or close friends, were desperate to get home in time for a bit of fun and games. The longer term patients were just lying in their beds either waiting to die or get over whatever it was they had wrong with them. The light diets were the bane of the patients, and Christmas was no exception. The rule was to keep up the good work, no slacking was permitted on any account or for any reason. One slice of cake or pudding was quite out of order, ‘a diet is a diet.’ Nobody who spent time in hospital ate anything that might make them throw up, unlike those who would be at home, in hotels, or away on cruises.

Ginger Briggs was not without imagination or contacts. He had got to middle-age without too many entanglements. As soon as he got into his hospital gown, he was up and flirting with one of the nurses who looked after his ward. Ginger’s eyes lit up at the sight of the rather plump nurse. He had searched her hands for signs of a ring that would mean she was off limits. But there being no evidence of another man in her life, he had honed in on her and made a play that showed he was a good actor too. First of all he gained her confidence and he did this by getting flowers sent to the hospital just for her. That was against all the hospital rules, but nevertheless Ginger had no time for rules and regulations. When they were alone behind the curtain he made more insinuations with his eyes and movements of his head that were nothing short of obvious. Geraldine, for that was her name, was frustrated by the fact that she had no fixed boyfriend. That was the trouble with working odd hours, that men prefer someone who knocks off at the same time every day. Geraldine was teased by her fellow nurses, Roma Jackson, and Summer Perkins. The three were not only workmates, but had studied together too. They used to share a flat, but now they all had their own flats. It was more expensive, but it gave them more privacy, especially when they wanted to take men home. Roma spoke about her boyfriend to the point of being nothing less than a hundred-per-cent boring. Summer was going out with a young man who was a bit of a mystery, she had photos of him in her wallet, but that was all. He had never been seen with Summer in the local shopping centre, which was strange as it was quite on the cards to meet the odd patient or two in there. The day was the wettest and dirtiest of all and was only a few days away from Christmas, when Ginger asked Geraldine to do him a favour.

“Nurse, can I have a word?” Ginger whispered in her ear when she was cleaning his wound.

“Yes, of course Ginger. What can I do for you?” Geraldine’s head was bent down over the wound and the clean dressing she was applying to it.

“Come closer, this is between us two, and I’m not partial to others listening in on my conversations with you.”

Geraldine bent closer and Ginger whispered in her ear, “I have ordered something on the internet and put your address on the delivery form. Now don’t be angry, I did ask your permission to use your place to get things sent to, as I’m in the process of moving and am also stuck in here.”

Ginger stared at Geraldine’s face to work out her reaction. He needn’t have worried about her reaction, she liked Ginger, who was a naughty over-fifty, old flirt. Geraldine liked the fact that he spoke to her as a person and not as someone to cure his aches and pains.

“Very well Ginger, have you any idea when the parcel is to arrive?”

“The ad says in a few days’ time, but as it’s Christmas it may take a bit longer.”

“What do I do when the parcel arrives?”

“You bring it here and I’ll do the rest. OK?”

“OK,” Geraldine replied. But she had too much on her mind to worry about parcels or anything that basically wasn’t anything to do with her.

Two days later, Geraldine received the small parcel which has been pushed through her letter box. There was no indication on the wrapping of the contents, and not being the sort to open what wasn’t hers, simply put it into her bag.

The following day Ginger’s wound, which was looking a lot healthier than a week ago, was quickly dressed, and that was the moment that Geraldine gave Ginger the parcel.

“You’re a treasure, you really are. Thanks a lot, nurse.” Ginger gave her a wink, and she left, saying as she went, “I hope you enjoy whatever is in there.”

“I shall, Nurse, you can be sure of that.” Ginger said, as she went to attend to another patient.

 

Geraldine was given a long holiday, due to having worked overtime in the summer months, and after her‘ex’ had gone, felt she had no reason to do anything else but work. On the day before Christmas Eve, the twenty-third of December, she went to say goodbye to Ginger, but unfortunately he was having a bath at the time, and she had to leave. The journey home to be with her parents, was long and tedious, and according to the weather reports, it wasn’t going to snow till after the New Year. Geraldine wasn’t put out by that news, she’d planned on spending the holiday by the fire in front of the television with DVDs. Her parents and the rest of the family were glad to see her.

 

Ginger was waiting to have his dressing changed and his mouth dropped open when he saw Roma instead of Geraldine enter the ward. When she got to Ginger he was quite put out, “Where’s the other nurse? You know, the little plump one?”

“Geraldine? Oh, she’s at her parents’ place in Cornwall, I think. she’s gone there for the whole of the Christmas holiday. What’s the matter? Won’t I do?” Roma said laughing at the cheeky faced-man.

 

Ginger had wanted Geraldine to know about his plan to liven up Christmas in the hospital, but now she’d never find out, as he expected to be out of hospital soon. Still, never mind, he’d put his plan into action anyway.

 

Ginger had been born with a bizarre sense of humour, that is, he loved playing practical jokes on the unwary. The boring stay in hospital had brought that side of his nature to the fore. Ginger was fed up, and he knew the other patients felt the same, so he had scoured the internet for a solution, and he had found it in a page titled ‘Oriental Magic Medicine’. He rather liked the title, and had sent off for whatever would be in the packet he would be sent.

Little did he know that there was nothing oriental or magic related to the product he had written off for. An out of work doctor, called Harmon Smith, had invented some powders, in order to make enough money to tide him over till he got a new job in a decent laboratory. He had set up a page on the internet advertising his merchandise, and had been happily surprised at receiving so many orders. Harmon thought that if things continued to flourish so well, he would give up the idea of looking for another hospital job, and spend the rest of his life making magic medicine. In the meantime people like Ginger were pleased to have found his web page.

 

Geraldine was happily enjoying the pleasures of home life at Christmas, and missed out on getting involved with Ginger’s plan for brightening up Christmas. 

The Christmas festivities at the hospital were frugal, to say the least. Both patients and staff were feeling anything but festive. The usual malingerers were in their comfortable beds. There were complaints that those who had called for ambulances were told they had no beds at the hospital. All in all it was the typical miserable Christmas, accompanied by the most miserable weather, and the ambulances kept arriving with patients who said they needed a bed. The hospital managers were angry at having the possibility of their holidays ruined, so they said that the hospital would have to stop receiving any more people as there was no more room. The situation was grim. That was when Ginger who was due to go home soon, put his plan into action.

Geraldine’ being away was a nuisance for his plan to succeed, as he had depended on her to help him out. Roma was leaving to go home on Christmas Eve, and Summer was to take her place till the day before New Year’s Eve. Ginger was now considered a friendly old soul and harmless, so Summer told him, when he asked her where Roma was, she said, “Roma’s gone home till the second of January. I’ll be here till the thirtieth of December, and then I’ll be away too.”

“All right then, would you do me a favour if I asked you?”

“Yes, of course I would.”

 

Ginger was lying back on his pillows and letting his imagination run riot. On Christmas Day, Mr Benson, an elderly patient, was eating his breakfast when he began choking. Summer went to him and decided he had all the indications of dead. She rang a bell to call for help, and meanwhile, Ginger got out of bed quietly, no, silently - and poured some of the magic medicine down the poor man’s throat. There was a gurgling sound, and Mr Benson gave a shudder, and opened his eyes.

“Where’s my breakfast? What’s happened to it? I hadn’t finished,” Mr Benson said in a plaintive voice.

Summer, accompanied by a doctor and a senior nurse, entered the ward at that moment. The trio stood and stared at Mr Benson.

“Nurse, I thought you said that Mr Benson was dead. He looks perfectly fit and healthy to me, what about you doctor?”

Doctor Stephen Burton replied, “Let’s take a look at you, Mr Benson.”

“What a blooming cheek saying I was dead. Thank you very much! I know I’m not much to look at nowadays, but I can assure the young lady, I’m far from quitting this world just yet.”

Summer said to her companions, “He had all the signs of being dead. I’m sorry, Mr Benson, but I really thought you had passed away.”

“Well, I think you should go back to school, if you think an old bird like me is dead when he isn’t,” Mr Benson declared.

 

Summer was informed that until the Christmas festivities were over, her services wouldn’t be needed. But by the time the holiday period was over, she had decided on a change of career.

 

Ginger saw that there was still a fair amount left in the bottle of the magic medicine. The next patient, who was another elderly gentleman to start failing, was given a large dose of the stuff and to the amazement of the medical faculty, he perked up so much, he and Mr Benson were allowed to leave the hospital and go home for Christmas. Ginger poured another large amount into a huge teapot destined for the women’s ward, and the same thing happened. The ladies who had been lying in bed with all the appearance of having given up the ghost, all of a sudden were chatting away. One nurse said, “The women’s ward sounds like a parrot house. What’s going on there?”

She opened the door to the ward and saw the lot of them sitting up in bed looking as fit as if they had never had anything wrong with them. The magic medicine had done its job once more.

Little by little, the patients who had received the medicine got well enough to go home to enjoy the festivities. The relatives of the elderly who had miraculously recovered, had mixed feelings when they saw the ambulances draw up outside their homes to deposit aged parents, aunties, and uncles on their doorsteps, when in reality they had thought they would be inheriting from them in a very short time.

 

Ginger was more than happy. He had learned that in life, surprise is the best way of attack. He finished off the magic medicine by taking it himself. The hospital was then with few patients and even fewer medical staff. None of the managers would have believed their eyes on seeing so many empty wards. They never saw them because, one: they were away skiing; and two, when they returned to the hospital, the medical staff and some of the managers were taking up beds themselves. Why had they all become ill? Was it as a result of the patients getting better? Or was it some kind of magic punishment? Whatever it was, the hospital had to close down and they were all transferred to another hospital, and their own hospital had been thoroughly disinfected. An inspector had found a strange bug living and breeding in the hospital.

 

The elderly patients who had recovered thanks to Ginger, lived for many more years to come, having accepted the fact that they had been awarded a life extension.

 

Ginger sent a message to Harmon Smith thanking him for the magic medicine and its extraordinary results.

 

Sadly, Harmon had died from taking one of his newer inventions, and never knew how many people he had helped.