His being in the hospital was one part of the story. He was requiring oxygen, antibiotics and care of his wounds.
In war, wounds are the souvenirs of one’s presence where flesh meets metal, and where strength of flesh makes history. Disease does eat flesh like wars, but those who remain living to tell the story may not know those who took care of them.
The most unsung heroes are the medical aides doing their jobs; cleaning bodily discharges, moving when required, talking when no one else is available. They care for patients in their respective roles while the medications do their part; time taking its course, wounds showing off and hope flickering at the cross roads of life and death. They are part of the dream makers, caring for a patient with the doctors and nurses.
To some, dreams are made in sleep; a preview of a tragedy or triumph without physical consequences.
Others become dream makers by providing the best they have, giving their best to care for the total strangers we call patients.