The kindness of strangers.

Aside

On Saturday morning we drove westwards to Instow in grey rainy weather and in just over 24 hours we were driving eastwards home. When we left our hotel the weather had improved with faint sunshine but when we hit the moor we were enveloped in thick fog. Why did we come home after only one night?

Eager beavers that we were, we had arrived early but our impeccable room was ready, so we dumped the luggage and went to have a light lunch in the bar. Once I had unpacked, feeling smug that I had managed with one suit-case instead of the usual two, we chilled and read the papers until it was time to get ready for dinner. The weather precluded a walk on the beach.

After a leisurely dinner the hotel owner/manager who I will call S, said he would take our coffee to the lounge. Just as we were going to leave the table MTL said he thought he would go to our room and I noticed his colour had changed and he looked unwell. Almost immediately a woman introduced herself, she was the daughter of the golden wedding party that the hotel was hosting, she was a doctor and as MTL was in her eye-line had noticed his change in colour. S appeared and we decided to take MTL to our room with the help of the doctor’s mother’s wheelchair. Fortunately we were on the ground floor.

S thought MTL had just got too hot and opened the French windows. I told the doctor that MTL had atrial fibrillation and the same thing had happened three years ago. She said she could ring for an ambulance if we agreed, and we decided it was safer to get him checked over. Within a very short time two paramedics were with us and shortly afterwards another one turned up having seen the ambulance, to see if he could be of further assistance. They decided to get MTL in the ambulance and give him further checks before deciding whether to take him to Barnstaple hospital or not.

I changed into trousers and an anorak and as I walked to the ambulance S gave me a card with his telephone number and said he would come and pick us up if we were coming back that night. I said we could get a taxi but he insisted it was no trouble. By now it was between 9pm and 9.30pm. After various tests it was decided to take us in to hospital. It’s really weird riding in an ambulance as you have no idea where you are.

When we reached the hospital the paramedics asked me to book MTL in and I noticed the receptionist was protected by thick glass with microphones you could speak into. When that was done I found MTL, ensconced in a cubicle, on a trolley propped up with pillows and wearing an oxygen mask. His colour was back to normal and he said he was alright now. We said good- bye to the cheery paramedics and were very grateful for their efficient help and support.

Then MTL was surrounded by female nurses in their dark blue trousers and smock tops – so different from the crisp uniforms we used to wear - but perhaps more comfortable and practical? When they had completed their tasks, another nurse came and started asking MTL questions - presumably to establish how confused he was: what was his name, what year was it, what day was it. When MTL said Saturday she said ‘NO!’

‘YES!’ we chorused. A welcome moment of levity.

MTL – when we were alone – said there would probably be a few drunks around as it was getting near closing time on a Saturday night – but fortunately we were spared that. Eventually a young doctor appeared and introduced himself. There didn’t appear to be anything to distinguish him from the nurses. After his examination and reading the charts he thought we may be able to go home but was just awaiting some results. Later he said he’d like MTL to stay, so the consultant could see him in the morning. I asked if it were possible for the consultant to see him now, he said no but then he phoned the consultant who apparently said we could go, dependent on one final result.

Then to my delighted surprise S appeared to see how we were getting on and insisted on waiting to take us back to the hotel. Finally at midnight we were allowed to go, with a letter and all the results for our GP, who we were told to see on Monday. We had already decided that after a night’s sleep we would pack up and go home. On the drive back S told us about his late father; we had met him on our first visit, and the family were devastated when he died after a gallant battle with cancer.

S delivered us to the night porter telling him to see us safely to our room. I couldn’t find words to thank him, so gave him a grateful kiss. We had a reasonable night’s sleep and when I rang the desk to tell the receptionist we would leave that day she asked if we would like breakfast in our room, which was a great comfort.

‘What a good job we didn’t unpack,’ said MTL.

‘Oh but I did.’

I had managed to keep it together until I went to the desk to pay the bill, and found they had only charged us for one night and none of the extras. I tried to say we expected to pay for the whole holiday but I couldn’t speak Later MTL went and paid them more as he said if they didn’t let the room they would lose out. You see why it is such a special hotel and why we go back.

On Monday we saw our doctor with all the results. After scanning them he reassured us that all was well and we should carry on as normal. We decided to take it easy for a while and yet again have cancelled our trip to see my younger son this week-end. In to every life a little rain must fall, and we are thankful for the kindness of strangers and our good fortune.