Charming Friends,

I am writing this as I sit at home recuperating from a rather unexpected trip to hospital! Into every life a little ill-health must visit: I truly hope that you never have to experience the need for very strong medical intervention, such as surgery, but alas we cannot control these things and the main thing is to feel fortunate if, like me, you have access to an excellent medical system.

I found myself on the receiving end of surgery, and a several-day stay in hospital for recovery. My condition, while not at all glamorous, is not life-threatening and I will recover, so I count my blessings along with my scars.

This adventure did make me think about the fact that nobody - no, nobody at all - can ever be glamorous all the time. We are all, happily, human beings, and worthy in our humanity, and humanity gets ill and a bit messy and a bit icky from time to time and a good thing too, since we are also rather good at nice things like healing ourselves and making wonderful new humans and getting old, and other glories.

If you should find yourself (or a dear friend) in my position, there are ways to cope with the messiness and the ickiness with a touch of Darling. Yes, there are. And here are a few thoughts I have had in that direction.

Firstly, hospital, as we know, is hardly glamorous. Hospitals have surgery, medications, drips, cannulas, bedpans, enemas, bedsores, blood and other emanations, surgical drains, morphine ... look, they are places of healing, or of managing illness. They are not cocktail bars, more's the pity.

My own hospital visit involved a few brand new experiences that I honestly have never had before (and I won't share with you because you may be a tad squeamish), and taught me all sorts of things about my own body - and my mind and emotions as well - that make it clear that like every other human on the planet I am fragile in some specific ways, and strong in others. This is a good thing: a good thing to learn.

The important thing here is to realise first and foremost:

To be human is to have dignity. No experience of humanity can detract from your inherent dignity.

This means that no matter how much you suffer, no matter how difficult, painful or emotionally draining your experience, you cannot lose your inherent dignity as a person, because it is yours by rights. It is not in anybody else's hands (no matter what else may be).

And you know what? Your medical professionals should be as much aware of that as you are. I have all kinds of love for the nurses and doctors who cared for me, especially the fabulous nurses who cared for me through some of those less pleasant and rather visceral experiences, because they treated me like myself the entire time. I can only hope that your own experience is as positive in that respect. Sadly I know that not everybody is fortunate enough to have the level of care I received. Nevertheless, that does not change this basic fact: no experience of humanity can detract from your inherent dignity. This is the first key to coping in hospital!

Speaking of those medical professionals, the basic Darling Rule applies: be charming, polite and respectful with them at all times. Another thing I really learned during my hospital stay is exactly how hard those wonderful people work, and in such difficult circumstances. Frankly, I should not imagine there is a hospital in Australia that is not short-staffed and short on resources. The medical staff are doing some of the most professionally, physically and emotionally challenging work I can imagine, and they are doing it under very straitened circumstances. They are deserving of your respect and understanding. And, I promise you they will greatly appreciate it.

Learn the names of the people who care for you, from the specialists and doctors, through all of the nursing staff, and all of the orderlies. Call them by name and smile (if you can) and say hello and thank them for their care. If there is an opportunity, chat a bit. They will feel better for it and so will you: take it from me - when somebody is helping you through a very painful and difficult experience it really, really helps to know their name and a bit about them!

Having said this, certainly be polite and charming and respectful, but don't hesitate to ask questions, demand explanations and request what you need. Remember, these people are frantically busy and they may not always think to give you all of the information that you actually need. Make it easy for them to do the right thing by you and ask. And if you are not happy with the response, look further. You must be an active participant in your own healthcare!

Basic hospital comfort! Hospitals are not usually kitted out for extreme comfort, they are kitted out for health care. You can take steps to make things nicer for yourself.

Before I went to hospital I imagined that I would generally prefer a private room to myself. As it turned out, I ended up there rather unexpectedly and there were no private rooms available. And as it turned out, I was grateful. I was lucky to be in a ward shared with one other person, with a curtain between us. I was so grateful for the presence of that other person! I had two neighbors while I was there and both were very sweet ladies. I always had somebody to chat with, I always had the comfort of knowing there was another soul close by. I got on very well with one lady in particular, and we helped each other through some rather emotional moments. On a purely pragmatic level, at one stage my nurse-summoning buzzer stopped working and my neighbor was able to alert the staff for me. If you are a charming person - as I know you are - you will be quick to make friends and so grateful for the company.

If you know you will be in hospital, pack your bag for practicality and comfort. You will need the basics: any medical scans that are relevant, your doctor's details and the details of your next of kin. Your healthcare benefit cards. Your usual medication and scripts - even if they don't seem relevant at the time. Bear in mind that you can't always predict the length of your hospital stay! Mine was extended by several days, unexpectedly, so bring those scripts with you!

You will also need your own personal list of people you might want to contact, including friends, family, workmates or anybody else you may wish to call while you're in.

Bear in mind that your health is of greater concern to the hospital than the security of your gear. It is best to leave valuables at home, most hospital rooms don't include lockable storage, and when you are not 'with it', you can't always keep track of keys and suchlike anyway. If you are lucky enough to have a support person who can visit you, you could entrust your laptop computer or games device or suchlike with them, to take in for you and remove again at night.

You will need your bedwear. For some of the time I was stuck in the traditional hospital robe, you know, with the tapes in the back. So be it. However, I was most grateful when I could change to my pretty satin nightgown with matching bedjacket. Bear in mind that your clothing will need to allow access to your lovely human body, so that you can be healed and perform basic functions, and also that it might get a bit soiled. You will feel much, much happier if you know you look good, but also be sure you have several changes of clothing, and that the clothing is washable - and line up somebody to do your laundry for you if you will be there for a while. Slippers or bedsocks are nice to have.

Bring your toiletries. You will need your toothbrush, toothpaste and floss, your soap (I insisted upon bringing a lovely scented luxury soap - also mildly antibacterial - which left a gentle rose scent on my skin after my clean), your shampoo, hairbrush, your moisturiser and your deodorant. Depending on your condition, you can also bring other more luxurious things such as conditioner, scented lotion and similar. Hospital airconditioning is very drying indeed! You MUST have moisturiser (the basic Sorbolene is a good one) and some lip balm, or else you will be itchy and miserable.

Hospitals are noisy places. If you can bear them, try bringing noise reduction earplugs for sleeping. Make sure they fit comfortably and are washable and have a clean case to store them during the day. This is a must if you share a room: remember that anaesthetic and some medications will make any normal human being snore! Some people find that a music-playery device with earphones, set softly, can also help to lull them to sleep in a noisy environment.

You may well get a tad bored. I was lucky enough to have the Captain who brought me entertainment daily, including magazines, books, music, a laptop and diverting DVDs. Bring whatever will keep you comforted and entertained. Remember that you may be in pain, distracted or just plain miserable, and adjust your entertainment accordingly.

If you are ever in hospital, I hope and pray that you will be fortunate as I was, and have lovely visitors. I was only able to cope with people for a little bit of time here and there (aside from my faithful Captain) but they lit up my life.

If you do have a support person, please remind them to take care of themselves. It is very hard and isolating to wait for long periods of time beside somebody's sickbed, and emotionally draining to be unable to meet every need of the person you care for. It can also be hard if you are managing a household, holding down a job or just keeping your own life on track. If you have a special support person, ask them to line up their own support network too. It is so much nicer for everybody when the burden is shared around!

Finally, we all hope and pray the time will come for you to continue your recuperation at home. The best things I have are my faithful Captain, my lovely Darla, my family and friends, my precious pets (even if one of them will keep trying to jump onto my surgery scars), my collection of classic movies, my cosy sofa and quilt, and my trusty new ukelele. Surround yourself with life, cheer, colour and light, and don't hesitate to take the time and the space you need to heal properly. You will be amazed at how willing the world can be to allow you what you need to get back into the swing of things.

And speaking of swing of things, my ukelele is calling me ...

Yours charmingly - and good health to you!

Blossom