Written 05/03/2016

An unknown figure walks into my ‘room’ – I was going to say ‘cubicle’ but even that seems overly generous…a hospital bed with a vaguely see-through curtain around it is more what I mean, rattling coughs surrounding me, death knocking on every door…or curtain. My eyes are fluttering vaguely open, stuck somewhere between lead and cotton, and the figure glides ominously towards me. Sleep paralysis? Some kind of morphine-induced hallucination? I’m scared. Turns out it’s a real person, doctor, nurse, I’m not sure, just with abnormally pale skin and sunken eyes – probably more worthy of my hospital bed than I am. He’s carrying two transparent bags of thick, crimson, clotty liquid. As he comes closer, it becomes obvious it’s...

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