My sister Anne was a patient in Saint Bartholomew’s hospital. She was suffering from terminal cancer. As we live a three hour journey away, I did not visit her as much as I would have liked. One Sunday we decided to pay Anne a visit. I telephoned my sister Mary who was a widow and lived on her own, and asked her if she wanted to come with us to the hospital. She said she would be pleased to have someone to visit Anne with. My husband Ron and I started off early as we had to make our way to Milton Keynes where my sister lived. After picking up Mary we made our way to London. On arriving at Bart’s hospital we were surprised to see some members of my family alighting from their cars dressed as if they were going to a wedding. We all entered the hospital, and made our way to the ward Anne was in. On entering the ward, I was even more surprised to see my sister Lorraine festooning my sister’s bed with streamers and balloons. I thought this a very strange thing to be happening when my poor sister Anne was laying in bed, hardly aware of what was going on around her.
I asked my sister Lorraine what the decorations were for, and she said: “Anne is getting married to Stan.” I was so taken aback that before I could think what I was saying I blurted out: “But Anne has never got a divorce from her first husband Bill.” Lorraine was a bit cross that I had said it so loud, and I noticed other people in the ward were looking at us. I whispered to Lorraine that everybody in the family knew that Anne and Stan were both married to other people. Just because they had been living together for so many years, did not make it legal for them to get married.
Before we could discuss it anymore my eldest sister Emm came into the ward, carrying a long plastic bag. After she had kissed everybody and said hello, she proceeded to take from the bag a glamorous satin nightdress and negligee. It was a lovely peach colour, trimmed with expensive lace. She said she had bought it for Anne to wear at the ceremony. I thought it looked more appropriate for a honeymoon, not someone who was so ill.
Emm asked one of the nurses if they could draw the curtain around the bed, and the nurse gave her permission. I did not believe my eyes when Emm and Lorraine sat my sister up in bed and started to take her nightdress off. Then they dressed Anne in all the finery Emm had bought in. I looked at Mary, but I could see she was as puzzled as I was about what was going on. Next they combed Anne’s hair and placed a small flower in it. A few minutes later a nurse pushed a wheel-chair up to the bed and helped to get Anne into it. Emm said: “Doesn’t she look lovely.” My sisters then dressed the wheelchair with balloons and flowers. When I saw Anne slumped in her wheelchair looking so ill, the word ‘lovely’ did not come into my mind, I thought ‘macabre’ was a more suitable word. Ron was asked if he would wheel Anne out to the lift, but he said that it was quite cold out, and that she needed a blanket over her. By the time Ron had tucked the blanket around her, there was not much finery showing.
I was getting angry by now, apart from not knowing what was going on, I was annoyed that nobody had bothered to inform me beforehand. It was only by chance that we had picked that particular Sunday to visit Anne. I asked my sister Lorraine what was happening, and why nobody had let Mary or me know. She replied that Anne and Stan were going to have their relationship blessed in the hospital’s chapel. She had been wrong to say they were getting married. Her understanding was that all the family had an invitation. Mary replied that she did not know anything about it. I let the subject drop as we were approaching the chapel. Standing at the door of the chapel was Stan, with their son John. Stan looked as ill and frail as Anne, as he was recovering from a major operation on his stomach. Stan was an alcoholic and also a heavy smoker, and over the years this had taken a toll on his health. He had been a good-looking man, tall and slim built, but now he looked as though he was at death’s door.
Ron wheeled Anne into the chapel, followed by Stan and John, and then all the family trailed in behind them. The priest asked Ron to wheel Anne to the altar, then Stan went and stood by her side. Ron came and sat down next to me and whispered that he had felt quite embarrassed walking down the aisle. After the priest had finished blessing them and their long union, we sang a hymn, and then we prayed for their health.
As we came out of the chapel, my family were all going on about the lovely service and how everything had gone so well. I kept my thoughts to myself, and as I glanced at Anne, who by now was so cold and absolutely worn out, I wondered how she felt about it. The whole affair had been recorded with cine-cameras by various members of my family, and I dread to think what the films were like. I thought that would be the end, and Anne would be taken back to the ward. But to my astonishment we were told to follow Stan who led us to a small hall. When we entered I was even more surprised to see long tables laid out with all kinds of food and drinks, even some sort of fancy cake. Everybody made their way to the buffet tables laughing and talking – there were even two nurses joining in. It looked like a normal party until you caught a glimpse of Anne who was ashen-faced and did not know what was going on around her.
I was glad that we were leaving early to visit my brother George in hospital. George was recovering from a serious heart operation, and I thought we would take the opportunity, while we were in London, to visit him. We said our goodbyes to Anne and the family, and as I looked back I saw someone sitting at the piano, and then actually begin to play. I found it hard to believe that we were in a hospital. I said to Mary: “Today has been one of the most bizarre days of my life.”
We had to travel to the other side of London to reach the hospital George was in, and it was past visiting hours by the time we arrived. I explained to the sister of the ward why we were so late, and she said we could see George as long as we were quiet, as visiting time was over. My brother was pleased to see us, and he looked a lot better than I expected. He asked how Anne and Stan’s day had gone. Mary and I were trying to describe the events of the day when Ron said: “It was like a bleedin’ ‘Carry On’ film.” George just burst out laughing and that started us off. Poor George was holding his chest saying: “Please don’t make me laugh anymore, it hurts my chest.” The sister had come back into the ward, looking very cross. She came straight over to us and said: “I will have to ask you to leave now, and would you please make less noise.” We felt really embarrassed, and hurriedly said our goodbyes to George.
