The young girl next to me was soon to be discharged. In the same way my blind at home didn’t insulate me from the hoots of owls and the dawn chorus, the curtain around my hospital bed provided nothing more than a visual barrier. And of course I was acutely aware that any conversations between me and any of the professionals caring for me were also out there for all to hear. When the conversations behind the curtains were of a personal nature I felt intrusive just in my presence an inert bystander to an intimate discussion between a patient and a professional. At times this made me very uncomfortable. There was little else to do as I couldn’t really concentrate on the book I’d brought to read, and try as I did not to, it was virtually impossible not to hear conversations that were in truth absolutely none of my business. All women, but of different ages, I soon established a little knowledge about them and why they occupied a bed alongside me. At times the curtains were open, so the voices I heard at times, unlike the birds outside my bedroom at home, had visual form. A patient on a hospital ward, the curtain around my bed separated me from the other five patients in the bay rather than the outside world. The blind provides a barrier to what I can see, but with the window open and my sense of hearing heightened in the still dim ambiance I am acutely aware of the wakening world outside of my bedroom.Ī few weeks ago I slept behind a different curtain for a night. With the blind still down I can’t see the array of birds that proudly sing their songs, although as it’s now lighter the first rays of brightness are starting to creep around the edges of the drape and cast shadows across my room. A cacophony at times, harmonious at others, signalling that wonderful time of the day when everything seems fresh and new before the majority of creatures, and humans, have woken and started their morning routine. If I wake later it’s the dawn chorus that greets me through the open window. I wonder sometimes if there are a group of owls communicating between each other, about hunting or predators or whatever else owls may communicate about. What breed of owl this is I’ve no idea, I’ve never seen it. Recently sleep has been fitful, and often I’ve lain in silence in the small hours listening in delight to an owl quietly hooting somewhere nearby. I sleep with the window open, although the light, or darkness, outside is all but hidden by the blind that drapes the length of the glass panels.
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