I'm sorry your child has had to be in hospital. And I'm really sorry they've had to have an operation. I know how hard that is on them and on you. I'm also sorry that we disturbed your sleep last night. But you know what? I'm not sorry the nurses didn't listen to you. You see, that noise you were complaining about was my daughter's sats monitor alarming to warn the nurses she was getting insufficient oxygen. That really loud insistent bleep? That was when she was going rather blue. I know it's loud - it's supposed to be. It's designed to make a nurse come running, which is what they were doing. I'm also not sorry that their first priority was to help my daughter, not necessarily to shut off the alarm. Your suggestion that they turn it down so it didn't wake you up could have killed my daughter. Was your night's sleep really that important?
The trouble with being in hospital is that you do unfortunately sometimes come across children who are really quite poorly. this is a hospital, not a hotel. The NHS buys you peace of mind, not peaceful sleep. I'm quite tired too as it happens; I was rather busy trying to help my child breathe for much of the night. But I'm not complaining about that; I'm just glad she's breathing more easily today. If you can't be glad about that, how about settling for being glad you were merely inconvenienced by this rather than having to live it.
We've moved wards now. The vindictive part of me hope the next occupant of our spot is louder and in more distress. But since that sort of hope tends to land us with grouchy toddlers for roommates, I'll settle for hoping your daughter is well enough to go home soon. Incidentally, your complaints about the lack of facilities for parents on that ward? I'll agree with you there. But I've moved wards now, and there's a parents' shower just opposite. So instead of writing in to moan, I'm off to wsh my hair.
Goodnight, sweet dreams.