She arrives in desperate pain,
She has nothing but fear,
Will her legs ever heal?
It\'s been well over a year.
They leak for England,
They smell something rotten,
She has no faith left,
Feeling she\'s been forgotten.
The GP is at a loss,
More pills that don\'t agree,
Sickening antibiotics,
The wait to finally see me.
I can offer no miracle,
I can offer only small change,
But I can promise this,
Is the depth of her range.
Each day will be better,
Than the one she had before,
It will be hard, so hard,
No choice but to endure.
With ointment and soaks,
And dressings best suited,
Soffban, crepe, coban,
She\'ll be 3-layer booted.
Toe to knee tightly,
Thinking of La Place\'s law,
In just a few weeks,
She\'ll be striding out the door.
Not blowing my own trumpet,
Just one of a small team,
Doing the best we can,
To fight the constant stream.
It\'s not glamorous,
Not for the faint hearted,
There\'s very little appetite,
To continue what we\'ve started.
Who\'d be a nurse today?
Let alone what we do,
When the audience is waiting,
And the next big reality star is you!
NHS70.