Onze site gebruikt cookies om diensten te leveren, prestaties te verbeteren, voor analyse en (indien je niet ingelogd bent) voor advertenties. Door LibraryThing te gebruiken erken je dat je onze Servicevoorwaarden en Privacybeleid gelezen en begrepen hebt. Je gebruik van de site en diensten is onderhevig aan dit beleid en deze voorwaarden.
A national treasure's journey to the brink and back. 'Will I wake up?' 'There's a 50:50 chance.' Michael Rosen wasn't feeling well. Soon he was struggling to breathe, and then he was admitted to hospital, suffering from coronavirus as the nation teetered on the edge of a global pandemic. What followed was months on the wards: six weeks in an induced coma, and many more weeks of rehab and recovery as the NHS saved Michael's life, and then got him back on his feet. Throughout Michael's stay in intensive care, a notebook lay at the end of his bed, where the nurses who cared for him wrote letters of hope and support. Embarking on the long road to recovery, Michael was soon ready to start writing about his near-death experience. Combining stunning new prose poems by one of Britain's best loved poets and the moving coronavirus diaries of his nurses, doctors and wife Emma-Louise Williams, this is a beautiful book about love, life and the NHS. Featuring original illustrations by Chris Riddell, each page celebrates the power of community, the importance of kind gestures in dark times, and the indomitable spirits of the people who keep us well.… (meer)
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
For Emma For Joe, Naomi, Eddie, Laura, Isaac, Elsie and Emile For Dr Katie For all the doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, occupational health therapists and NHS staff who saved my life, looked after me, and helped me recover.
Eerste woorden
Citaten
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
“A doctor is standing by my bed asking me if I would sign a piece of paper which would allow them to put me to sleep and pump air into my lungs. ‘Will I wake up?’ ‘There’s a 50:50 chance.’ ‘If I say no?’ I say. ‘Zero.’ And I sign.”
I’m disturbed by another dream. I imagine that just before I got ill I came across a statement, a kind of manifesto from a German farmer. It was a reply to the hate coming from neo-Nazis in his neighbourhood. He comes towards me wearing a stone-washed bib-and-brace. He stands alongside his 1950s tractor with his family around him. His manifesto tells how we can only go on if we love each other, we have to find many different kinds of love he says, love for lovers, love for our children love for our colleagues, love even for people we don’t know. If we don’t, we will destroy ourselves.
What makes me sad about this dream Is that I keep getting to the point where I am thinking: Where is this manifesto? Who is the farmer? I feel sure he gave it to me before I got ill. How did I get to meet him and his family? Where was it? And then it goes.
I’m a traveller who reached the Land of the Dead. I broke the rule that said I had to stay. I crossed back over the water, I dodged the guard dog, I came out. I’ve returned. I wander about. I left some things down there. It took bits of me as prisoner: an ear and an eye. They’re waiting for me to come back. The ear is listening. The eye is the lookout.
Laatste woorden
Ontwarringsbericht
Uitgevers redacteuren
Auteur van flaptekst/aanprijzing
Oorspronkelijke taal
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
A national treasure's journey to the brink and back. 'Will I wake up?' 'There's a 50:50 chance.' Michael Rosen wasn't feeling well. Soon he was struggling to breathe, and then he was admitted to hospital, suffering from coronavirus as the nation teetered on the edge of a global pandemic. What followed was months on the wards: six weeks in an induced coma, and many more weeks of rehab and recovery as the NHS saved Michael's life, and then got him back on his feet. Throughout Michael's stay in intensive care, a notebook lay at the end of his bed, where the nurses who cared for him wrote letters of hope and support. Embarking on the long road to recovery, Michael was soon ready to start writing about his near-death experience. Combining stunning new prose poems by one of Britain's best loved poets and the moving coronavirus diaries of his nurses, doctors and wife Emma-Louise Williams, this is a beautiful book about love, life and the NHS. Featuring original illustrations by Chris Riddell, each page celebrates the power of community, the importance of kind gestures in dark times, and the indomitable spirits of the people who keep us well.
Google Books — Bezig met laden...
(4.08)
5