Friday

Mr Lecturer is stil in hospital, salty water washing in and out of the poor buggers bladder. Produceing buckets or very red pee. We went to visit after wifes work. Took soem toothpaste and our son took hima suger free lollypop. fuck hospitals are grim, we walked past both wards that our friend was on, glanceing side to side one sees terribly wan old lookign faces on youg people, wraked with pain and resignation, trapped in a body that now attacking them internaly. Who knows what my own body is now growing inside it, maybe we all are. Our friend, looking back certainly had symptoms for, what, five/six years...more actuly. Lecturer lay looking fed up. Liters of salty claret colourd water collecting in a plastic bag. the nurse took away a two liter jug full of frothy red liquid.

I look round and think, is this where i will end my own life?... come to die in a place cluttered with oxy bottles and piles of paper boxes. Too warm, airless, unhealthy feeling. Or wil i be visiting the wife, watching her fade in pain. Walkign out of any of the entrances one is hit by a wave of stale tobaco smoke and fag buts, alwasy a crowed ernestly drawing smoke, even a full term pregnant girl at the door of the maternaty oposite. Some look very ill aready, they should at least make a room for them to smoke in.