From my hospital bed


“To be or not to be? That is the question.” – Hamlet, Shakespeare

My troubles are minor compared to Hamlet’s. He was dealing with suicides, murder and intrigue.

I’m dealing with high blood pressure and mixed metaphors.

Being unable to speak clearly on Wednesday, I made my way to Kincardine Hospital, where I was promptly prodded and pulled and hooked up with wires all over the place. A few hours later, I was transferred to a room from which I have yet to escape (except for a 30-metre walk to a red line, over which my monitor is out of range).

The idea is to find a way to control my high blood pressure.

My brain is still working, my speech is improving but my handwriting and typing skills are non-existent. Dana has been forced to be my scribe, and Josh my typesetter.

This is my first stay in a hospital in 63 years, so I can make no comparisons. However, I have found the staff a pleasant, competent group. And they do much more here than I knew.

As I dictate this, it is Sunday afternoon and I hope by the time you are reading this, I will have made my escape.


I really don’t know if this column is even necessary with the way news travels in Kincardine.

Everyone in town seems to know my health status. However, all the get-well wishes are appreciated.

I’m surprised it took until Saturday morning to reach the HST forum.


*Note: Eric did escape the Kincardine Hospital Tuesday evening, thank you all for the warm wishes - Josh