Asma Ahmed

Thinking back to my time at the Nightingale hospital, I felt quite nervous in my first few days, thinking what can I do to help, how can I help with the skills I have. The building felt so vast, but it reminded me of a story told to me by my lovely neighbour Malcolm, who sadly passed away from Covid. Malcolm’s father worked at the G-MEX when it was a railway station, and apparently once they had to coax down a monkey that had escaped from somewhere. It still makes me smile when I think of Malcolm telling me that story. He was like a grandad to me, and to the whole neighbourhood.

When we were at the Nightingale, it felt as if we were in a bubble, as when you went into the city centre everyday it was so quiet. I remember wondering whether I would ever see it thriving again.

We had a room called the ‘wobble room’ which says it in the name really. We could use that room just to have time to ourselves as it was such a pressurised environment to be working in and sometimes felt overwhelming so if you needed a moment you could use that room. When I went in there I just remember this huge chair and just curled up in there and closed my eyes.

I often bump into my colleagues from Nightingale around Manchester Foundation Trust hospitals and it feels like we have this shared understanding of what it felt like being there. We shared this unique time of uncertainty, but of being together.

Illustrations: Ann Dinh