‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ he yelled as the juice glass hit the floor with a thud as the nurse entered the ward.
‘Now, now Jan. Take it easy. Otherwise, we won’t be able to let you watch TV anymore. You know the doctor has given instructions for you to lie still. That’s why you’ve got one of the few single-bedroom wards here in Frederiksberg Hospital, isn’t it?’ the plump nurse chirped as she picked up the glass from the floor.
From his bed, Jan Bundgaard pointed at the news headlines that rolled across the screen on the small TV he had been allowed:
‘That story was mine and could have brought me the Cavling Prize again,’ he groaned through the bandages.
The nurse cast a disinterested glance at the news feature with Kaare Strand and was clearly not listening to a word that was said on TV.
‘I’ll get you some more juice. In your condition, you need plenty of nourishment,’ the nurse continued in her annoying, energetic tone as she left the room.
‘Can’t I get some fags instead? And maybe you should think about smoking too; it’s very slimming,’ Jan mumbled at her back and sank wearily back into his bed.