A new patient comes in opposite me. She has the usual look of glazed horror as she is wheeled in so I decide to delay introductions as she’s probably come in after an emergency operation. The nurse basks in with her trolley chirping “Medication time my dears” just as the fire alarm starts. Immediately we see the Sister behind her marching intently down the corridor screaming “Close all the fire doors!” The new patient opposite looks at me and rolls her eyes. Our nurse quickly shuts the doors behind her and carries on in her endearing sing song Indian intonation “Don’t worry dears it is just fire alarm” and carries on calmly giving out medication “Paracetamol dear?” She is incredibly professional throughout. “Is this real or pretend?” I bluntly enquire (due to previously working in places where they like to practice). “It is real fire” she sings to us as I for the nth time wish the windows opened more than 3cm.

She comes to do my stomach injection and before anyone can realise, with the wrong combination of either the blue curtain not being drawn or me not wearing pants I realise I’m flashing my lady’s treasure to the new patient opposite as the nurse lifts up my gown to inject me. I accidentally catch  her eye and she respectively looks away. I’m sure my flashing is the least of all our worries at that moment. The nurse continues to tell me I have been prescribed a new drug just as the fire alarm stops. She calmly walks to open the fire doors where there is a colleague she briefly converses with. “Fire is out now dears” we are informed as the pushes the drug trolly to the next patient. She must have been shitting herself.