A hospital provides us care,
But every day is different there.
Emotions must run very high,
To make you laugh or else to cry.
You must encourage and cajole,
And be prepared for any role.
Humour too is often used,
When your help has been refused.
Sometimes though, we must be told,
And not just those confused or old,
All of us may need a shove,
But by you it’s done with love.
Angels dressed in blue and green,
Who nurse the sick and keep them clean.
Who feed and clothe, who tend and care,
With heart and sole and love to spare.
You work so hard, our hurts to heal,
And often it’s our hurts you feel.
Patients, yes, but families too,
All are helped and healed by you.
Sometimes though to heal’s too much,
Then you become our mental crutch.
To help us bear what can’t be borne,
When grief and pain leave us forlorn.
Through life’s path you ease our way,
To try and keep despair at bay.
You show us hope for life renewed,
And earn our love and gratitude.

Dedicated to the nurses and domestic staff at Turriff Hospital who cared for “Bill”.  (William Johnson 1923 – 2008)