A Care-Full Coffee at Hull Royal Infirmary.

Had a brew this morning at HRI. Whilst waiting for someone with an appointment there. A coffee made with care by a small team of barristas.

Sitting and watching as nurses dropped in for their takeway favourites. Latte with extra soya milk. Caramel cappuccino. Millionaires shortbread and a flat white.

A broad young man in a hooded pink velour dressing gown, wandering in, looking for a loo.
An elderly man dressed all in khaki, stabbing at his phone.

A young Mum mesmerised by the menu board, pushing her pram to and fro.
A man sloping by, tethered to a saline drip.

An old lady being pushed in a bed, flanked by staff in uniforms of white, maroon and blue.

The sense of it being a normal morning. Another day in the rhythm of a ceaseless place.

Where, through the doors and up the stairs, the messy, marvelous stuff of life, and death, goes on.

Here, among the carers and the cared-for, the visitors and the vendors. Raising a mug in deep gratitude and thanks.

Fiona P