I work in a dynamic and ever evolving hospital. That doesn’t mean that people aren’t taken notice of.
My friend, Morris is a wardsman at my hospital. But more than that, Morris is a big personality and is someone everyone knows, loves and trusts. Morris helps run our hospital. The old “hey it’s Morris!” Response when you ring the wardie phone is etched in my mind. The “ok mate I’ll be 5 mins” is also in there.
So, one of my best friends, Morris, had a motorbike accident on 31/10 and sustained a life threatening head injury.
At first when I was told he had an accident, I thought it was minor and I sent him a chastising message asking what the fuck he had done.
I talked to some of the other wardies who said he was in Neuro ICU at a huge hospital in Sydney. My heart sank. No wonder no reply.
I was walking my dog on our regular route one day and started sobbing. Uncontrollably. I tried to stop but I couldn’t. A man walking next to me asked if I was OK? And I just said, “I don’t know! My friend is very sick in hospital”. He offered me his best wishes but understood I needed to finish my walk alone.
We made a bunch of videos for him telling him how much we loved him and missed him. After each video on my ward we’d collapse into each others arms in tears. It’s an understatement how much Morris means to us. We wrote cards his Mumma and girlfriend read to him.
When his mum got the videos, she played them for him and tears dropped from his eyes, she said.
Morris is the type of guy who finds a fold out chair for you when there’s none available in the hospital knowing that whoever is using it is using it to be with their loved one during their last hours on earth.
He’s the type of guy to drop everything and come and help during a code blue, code black or whenever you just need him.
Literally everyone in the hospital knows him. Doctors, nurses, management and we all love him.
Morris is the type of guy who would triple glove, mask, glasses, gown up for a wee pad change.
Morris is the only person in the world after I was busting to go to the toilet after a morgue run, would be able to lock me in the viewing room and whisper through the door, “Edwinaaaaaaaa joiiiinnnnn usssss” with his cheeky giggle and immediately opening the door for me to come out and slap him on the arm for being such an arsehole.
Morris is the type of guy to meet up after a shitty shift and sit in his car, share a ciggie and just chat about life and problems and what our shifts have been like.
Morris is missed, so much. I miss you. I miss our friendship. Can’t wait to squeeze your hand and tell you how much I love you.
I know it’s a long road to recovery but you know we’ve got your back bruzzie.
We love and miss you.