[[[the wonderful mess that we've made]]] [[[part iii]]]

35.

So being in a hospital in a foreign country was pretty weird, but being in one that was not equipped for hundreds of extra patients was worse. There were no showers available, barely enough food and certainly not enough beds. I hated hospitals at the best of times but I just wanted to go home. This wasn't helped by the fact that I'd badly damaged my hamstring and couldn't walk. They'd patched me up the best they could but I'd need further operations and years of physiotherapy to ever walk properly again. It certainly put my job at risk. Seeing as it had happened at work, I was in for a fairly substantial payout from the company. But I didn't want that. I just wanted to be ok.

'Here.' Dan threw me a packet of baby wipes as he entered my curtained off bed on day three. It was like heaven. I'd sent him in a mission to find clothes, food and toiletries. And like the little star he was, he had come back with everything. I shared things out with the dozen other people on my ward, all equally in the same position as I was; stuck in a far away land and very scared.

I didn't know if I would've coped without him. He stayed with me night and day, keeping me occupied. And that made me love him even more. There wasn't even a thought of us not being together now. The funny thing about near death experiences was how they made you reevaluate life. About how precious it was. About grabbing everything while you could.

He sat at the foot of my bed, playing with my charts and notes, pretending to be a doctor. Though it was hilarious, I threw the cardboard sick bucket at his head.

'Stop!' I hissed, just as a doctor came in. Neither me or Dan spoke Hungarian so it made these moments very difficult. He spoke to me but I didn't understand a word.

'When can I go home?' I said in clear English. He didn't understand me either. 'Better?' I pointed to my leg. He understood this it seemed, as he shook his head. He left me some more painkillers and walked to the next bed. I shook my head at Dan. 'I don't want to be here anymore.' I told him.

'I know. But until he says so, you can't fly home.'

'I'll walk.' I said like a stroppy teenager. Dan raised an eyebrow at me. I couldn't even walk to the toilet without his help. 'I just...I just want to go home.' I made myself upset. I'd felt resigned to the fact that I'd be here a long time, but now I didn't want that. I wanted to fight this. I wanted my own bed and my own privacy. And better drugs.