Susan Morrison: Hospital soup and custard – so yummy I went back for seconds
Hospital custard is a thing of wonder. It is truly the food of the gods. It might even be better than school dinner custard. This is heresy in this house, since my mother was a proud school dinner lady for many years and might now disinherit me from the Morrison millions.
The soup is pretty good too. As one nurse put it, there is green soup and there is red soup. One involved tomato. The other one didn’t. No matter, both were just the thing for people feeling a bit under the weather, or if their entire midriff has been opened up and bits taken out.
The food in hospital has massively improved since those many years ago when I had my kids. When my daughter was born, my husband smuggled in homemade sandwiches and even soup from a nearby deli.
Feeding all these people is a huge task, carried out like a military operation. You get a menu. You tick some boxes. You ask for the wine list. They laugh. The next day, green soup and custard turns up. I’ve dealt with less efficient takeaways.
This awesome undertaking is made all the more complicated by the fact that consultants seem to wander the wards at will discharging patients who look as if they might make it to the bus stop or moving them about whimsically from one ward to another like a human noughts and crosses game.
This means that pre-ordered food wanders about the Western looking for a patient. Most of the time they find the right person, but any given mealtime, the wards seem to be swirling with custard and soup looking for a home. My dietary requirements were sloppy food only-based, so I was slightly startled to be approached not once but twice by people bearing trays announcing “Haggis?”
Now, I stand unequalled in my admiration of the fair chief of the puddin’ race, but, let’s be honest people, it has its place and hospital lunchtime is not one of them. For one thing, they don’t give you a dram with it.
No, I said, gently but firmly, not I. Oh, said mildly confused patient care assistant, but it’s got your name on it.
This could only mean one thing. Someone was attempting to acquire haggis under my name.
I was the victim of the most rubbish identity thief going. Keep alert, people.
The custard was such an allure that I found myself back in hospital three days after they had slung me out.
Everything had been going swimmingly well, but then Mother Nature decided to throw a hissy fit, and so on Friday morning, I found myself feeling slightly uncomfortable. And by that, I mean, feeling as if someone was sticking a broken bottle into my abdomen.
NHS 24 was called. You need to get to hospital, they said. I couldn’t actually lie or sit down, so getting in the car was going to be difficult.
I did think about getting my husband to lash me to the roof, but I was fairly certain that was against the law, even if we did keep to the regulation 20mph.
We called back. Can we get an ambulance? Ah, they said, we need to get your GP out-of-hours to call the ambulance, otherwise we’ll just take you straight to the RIE, and then you’d get transferred to the Western. We duly waited for another call, which didn’t take long, but it did add an extra link in a chain.
Quite why NHS24 can’t directly tell the ambulance where to go seems a bit convoluted to me, but I wasn’t really in the mood to go howling to my MP about it just then.
The ambulance arrived in the end. They had gas and air. By the time we reached Ferry Road I was ready to go shopping. Well, online at any rate.
Humans are just a big laugh to dolphins
Ah, the fiendish Russians. Strapping cameras on dolphins and whales to spy on us, are they? Not surprised. Those of us who grew up with Flipper are under no illusion about how smart cetaceans are, but I don’t think it is the Russians.
These critters are so clever, I bet they’re buying this stuff on Amazon and using it to film us. Somewhere in the depths of the ocean there’s a screen with a load of dolphins and whales sitting in front of it showing footage of humans being twonks.
Look! There they are on beaches again roasting themselves! Yes, they really are standing on silly boards on waves! Send the youngsters out, this is their mating ritual. Watch this bit, it’s a classic. Seaweed brushes the female one’s leg. Get that high-pitched scream. No, I didn’t know they could run on water either. No wonder dolphins look like they’re laughing every time we see them.