Ears of a stranger

So you know the back story. Me, a hospital bed, an ileostomy, wife pregnant with child.

Laying there in the hospital bed, on a drip and pain killers a button push away, your mind wanders. You feel elston for being alive, fear for the future, worry for your family and most of all regret for things you have not done. That more than any other is the kicker, 'Regret'.

I asked to see the chaplain, not because I was at death's door, or that I was very religious, but I wanted someone to talk to who was not family. Someone I could confide in without having to have a relationship with, if that makes sense; it does to me.

She listened and she listened, I had many a tearful conversation with her but most of all I have memories of that point which I can only describe as "Peace".
Not fond, because it was not a happy time. Not pleasant, because as much as it helped me to talk, it was not a pleasant time.

I do remember out though as a time that brought me peace by being able to talk, cry and hug at that point in time author having it follow me as it would have done if I had spoken with family.

So just for those 3 days which helped give me hope, get pain, anger and frustration off my chest and helped me cope with not being there for my son's 3rd birthday - I dedicate this to the chaplain of Whipps Cross hospital,thank you.