Visiting BY SINDISWA BUSUKU-MATHESE
What happened before this, I cannot tell you because I cannot remember. I can tell you I was with her. In the metallic green Nissan Skyline driving up Sparks Road, passing Johnny's Roti. Up the road then down and around the corner passing Overport City, arriving at McCord Hospital. PUBLIC PARKING TURN LEFT PRESS BUTTON FOR PARKING TICKET 0-1 HOUR = FREE 1-2 HOURS = R 8.00
PARKING LOT She found a spot and I waited for her outside the car while she shook her handbag listening for coins. She turned in her seat and looked at me leaning on the boot, then rubbed her fingers together and her mouth said something like, "Do you have any change on you?" I tapped my pockets, "Nope."
GROUND FLOOR We entered through the sliding glass doors and found the lifts, joined the male nurse who bent over to rest his elbows on the handles of his patient's wheelchair. A woman sat in a thin hospital gown with fluffy satin slippers, white thinning hair smoothed back and twisted into a low hanging bun. With a jumpy jaw she nodded and raised her eyebrows in conversation with the door.
FIRST FLOOR Sellotape held down a small cotton ball in the crease of her arm, but the purple patch beneath told me she wasn't doing too well. He turned his face left to look at me and slowly dragged himself upright.
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