Unexpected Hospital Visit

  Today I unexpectedly find myself in A&E with suspected appendicitis. As I sit in the cubicle where I have been for hours waiting for test results and doctors, feeling immensely frustrated at the situation in which I find myself, I can't help looking at the 3 surrounding walls and curtain in front of me and wonder what it would be like to be stuck in a cell this size for 23 hours a day. I am already feeling impatient, angry, almost claustrophobic and desperate to just be allowed home. The thought of being stuck in a similar size cell waiting until they tell me my execution date has been set fills me with dread. I already feel like a caged animal after a few hours in a hospital cubicle, so how soul destroying and dehumanising must it be to know that the tiny space you now occupy, may be the only space you will occupy until you are murdered by the state! I know that I will be going home, if not today, tomorrow or the next day, and although a hospital is nothing like a prison, I can't help calling to mind my pen pals on death row. The thought of being stuck in a cell with little hope of ever living beyond the walls surrounding me makes me wonder how they find the strength to keep on going. How do they survive the daily stress and boredom? I am not sure I could! With this in mind, I think of the wonderful letters that have been written to me, and can't help but admire the strength and generosity of human spirit which lives in these men.

I was finally moved to a ward, and was suprised at the relief I felt to have a window. I hadn't realsed how much more claustrophobic it felt not to have an outlook on the world beyond my four walls. I have never considered what it must be like to be in a windowless environment before, and it must have an effect on the psyche of anyone imprisioned with no way to see outside.