Sandy called to say that she would help if needed, and we sat downon the sofa. I whispered that it felt a little funny to be wearing clothes there, an... she smirked with a nod before we drank, then chatting for a few minutes before Vivienne called for help. I offered to open the wine, and we both joined her in the kitchen. Soon we were sitting at the table. Vivienne had, indeed, prepared a nice meal. Sandy and I complimented it and toasted her, and she looked pleased, seemed quite moved, in. The harsh contrasts between the hospital in my time and here ranged from the lack of computer stations and monitors to the lack of art work on the walls. Everything was different. The ward was the size of a high school gymnasium; it had an oak floor, white walls and load-bearing columns that ran down the center of the room. The ward was bright with lots of windows, high up on the wall, allowing natural lighting to cheer the room up. On each support column was a set of gas lamps could be turned. More

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