This scene would usually conjour up nightmares for me. I don't mean my good friend Shelley in the wheelchair, I mean the hospital corridor. Since a childhood trauma in a casualty dept. (ER), I have been terrified of hospitals, (very long story, some of you know it already!) and that was the driving force behind my choice to have homebirths, which I did very successfully with my two girls, but sadly not so with my son.
Paradoxically, I have been able to visit Shelley over the last few weeks without freaking out. We think the reason for this is a combination of factors: I first arrived in the dark, and this little hospital does not look or smell like a hospital; and I was very busy in the run up to Christmas, but fitting in short visits which involved concentrating on Shelley - learning how to collapse a wheelchair, mastering the best approach to getting it in the boot (trunk) - all she had to do was chuck herself in the car! - and accomplishing the task set me for each visit. Really, I didn't have much time to think about where I was going. I am amazed at how chilled I have been when inside St Oswald's Hospital in Ashbourne. Of course, the real test will be when I next go to a particular acute hospital... but I feel encouraged, as I have set myself a personal challenge which requires me to be able to manage this irrational fear in the not too distant future.
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Originally, St Oswalds was built as the Ashbourne Union Workhouse. Able bodied inmates in the workhouse performed stone-breaking - aggregate then sold for road-making, while the elderly were employed in picking oakum - rope fibres which were then mixed with tar to use as caulking on the hull of a ship.
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View to St Oswald's Church from the hospital's drive.