They had told him time was short. He had asked them how long they meant. He couldn’t recall them giving him a clear answer. He set himself three goals before leaving hospital. Grass underfoot, the taste of green apple and to eat an ice-block.

The ice-block would be easy, we had plenty of ice-blocks as our patients may have swallowing difficulties and icy treats can be most welcome. Plain old lemonade ice-blocks can be most refreshing.

I asked if our kitchen had green apples. No – this was not something that patients usually ate. Too hard to chew for some people and too sour for most people. The kitchen usually was stocked with canned fruit, stuff that would not perish. I asked the universe for green apples, the universe provided me with five of the best. (A quick trip to the local convenience store was made. Sorry, we just sold our last green apples to another customer. A longer trip to a local fruit and vegetable store was successful. Five bright green Granny Smith apples were chosen. 10 minutes spent travelling in a hospice EV. )

I dropped off four apples to our kitchen staff.

“Could you make an icy treat with these apples?”

“Sure, I’ll blend them with ice.”

I went off to be the teacher’s pet. Giving our patient the fifth apple I left the room as he was busy with another staff member. I walked down the corridor and the chef was holding a glass jar that contained bright green icy slush. I hadn’t expected this to be prepared so quickly. I presented our patient with the drink. As he sucked on the straw the look on his face was pure pleasure, “Ahh, that’s good.” He hadn’t been allowed to eat and drink for a long time in hospital.

Grass underfoot was going to be a bit more challenging. His mobility had worsened as he had become weaker. Stuck in bed for weeks. Stuck inside the hospital walls, breathing conditioned air. His only sunlight exposure was through a window that could not be opened. The first day he was too tired to do anything. Could he be hoisted into a wheelchair? Would we have to push his bed out into our courtyard, over to the lawn? Could he sit up in bed? Or could we bring a piece of turf into his room? Maybe a combination of all three wishes, an icy green apple and grass slushy? Maybe not. Thanks to the kind efforts of our physiotherapist (not terrorist) and our nursing staff a short trip in a wheelchair was enabled.

Out into the sunlight, a gentle breeze on his face wheeled out towards a fine collection of chlorophyll. Slippers off. Feet resting on lawny goodness. A man communing with nature. He lay back in a reclined position, his head propped up by a soft pillow. A satisfied smile in his eyes and mouth. Contented bliss. A momentary escape from hell. A relaxing dose of normality. A simple pleasure.

Missions Accomplished team!