Classy Kate is a Strictly star
SO farewell then Kate Silverton, your sojourn on Strictly is over and won’t we miss your ebullient enthusiasm?
Kate cherished every glittering second as only an exceptionally tall girl who had never felt at ease on the dance floor could.
It was a delight to see her shoulders un-hunch, her neck lengthen and her head held gracefully aloft.
It was as if all those years of trying to diminish her size to blend better with the men she met were peeled away and a brand-new Kate, revelling in her new-found gracefulness, gleefully emerged.
JUST take a look at Richard and Judy. They have been married 32 years, second time around for both and Richard says, “There have been no crisis dinners – nothing. We respect each other and that’s the key.” Their marriage is so “rock solid” they’ve never mentioned splitting up or, perish the thought, divorce.
He’s grateful and delighted but, we sense, the tiniest bit bemused. It’s clear he never expected to be an expert on nuptial bliss. He is dazzled by his fabulous fate. He rolled the dice, scored a double-six and happened upon his ultimate soulmate. I’ve known R & J since my first appearance on This Morning in 1992 and they do, forgive the cliché, complete one another.
They finish each other’s sentences, play to one another’s strengths, indulge weaknesses and – most importantly – take pleasure in one another’s idiosyncrasies. They don’t curb each other’s excesses, forbear from imposing limits on each other and have a right rollicking good laugh both when things go right and when they implode.
They are united by high IQs, fertile intelligence and adoration of their children. She’s wiser. He’s more gregarious. Together they are magnificent company and greater than the sum of their parts.
The punchline for all non-Richards and Judys, those of us floundering in fragile relationships or struggling along solo is that we shouldn’t beat ourselves up because we never found the yin to our yang. Love isn’t Bake Off. There isn’t a foolproof recipe we failed to follow. We didn’t win the tombola and it wasn’t our fault.
NO-NONSENSE NURSES MUST HELP POOR PATIENTS SICK AND TIRED OF NOISY WARDS
IS anyone surprised by the news, courtesy of King’s College London, that patients are so exhausted by the din in hospital wards they are desperate to discharge themselves early?
The first night after an operation is fine. The anaesthetic is still coursing through your veins and you slumber as if stupefied. The nights that follow are torture. Delirious patients shriek and howl, loquacious nurses giggle and tittle-tattle, equipment pings and whirrs, bells ring, trollies slam and if you catch a couple of winks you’re roused from sleep by a nurse wanting to take your temperature.
Add to the mix the infernal cacophony of mobile phones and patients report an inability to recover because they are so desperately fatigued and aching for peace and quiet. The World Health Organization recommends wards stay below 35 decibels during the day and 30 by night, yet one study showed a norm of 60 decibels, rising to a hellish crescendo of 100. Who is responsible? Well, an old-style Hattie Jacques-type matron with zero tolerance for all superfluous sounds would have a major impact on quietening the environment.
Remember fearsome librarians who created an atmosphere in which no one even dared to sneeze? We need stentorian sisters to stamp out the rattle and clatter to enable the sick to do what they were admitted to hospital for in the first place: make a full and speedy recovery.