A couple of years ago, a close university friend of mine, Liam, had a rather nasty fall off his bicycle during our autumn term. He ended up fracturing his collarbone and needed minor surgery to reset the bone properly, so he was admitted to the orthopaedic ward at our local hospital in Bristol.
As soon as visiting hours opened the following afternoon, another mate and I headed over to see him. Liam looked a bit battered and bruised, propped up in a rather sterile-looking bed surrounded by monitors and drips, which was quite alarming at first glance. However, once we sat down beside him, the mood lightened considerably. We'd brought along a couple of puzzle magazines, some decent biscuits, and a podcast playlist to help him stave off the boredom, because hospital days can really drag on.
We spent about an hour just chatting and taking the mickey out of his clumsy cycling, which actually got him laughing despite the pain in his shoulder. It was wonderful to see his spirits lift, although we had to be mindful of keeping our voices down so we didn't disturb the other patients sharing the ward.
To be honest, I felt quite a mix of emotions throughout the visit. Walking onto a hospital ward is always slightly unsettling; the smell of antiseptic and the constant hum of medical equipment can make you feel quite uneasy. At the same time, I was immensely relieved to see that Liam was on the mend and being looked after so attentively by the nursing staff. It made me realise how important it is to show up for your friends when they're feeling vulnerable.