The Power of a Smile in a Place That’s Forgotten How

In June this year, I had a serious cycling crash and, for the first time since arriving in Australia 31 years ago, I had to use the public hospital system. I was taken to the Trauma Emergency Department at The Alfred Hospital — and it was quite an experience.

Don’t get me wrong, the staff at this hospital were and are amazing! The treatment I received was second to none, from the Trauma ED through to the Trauma Ward. But what amazed me most was how these experts could perform so brilliantly in the conditions they were working under.

I spent 20 hours in the Trauma ED waiting for a bed before being moved to a cubicle in the regular emergency department for another four hours. The doctors wanted me in ICU, but there were no beds. The emergency department was full and frantic. Eventually, I made it to the Trauma Ward — first in a four-bed room, and then a two-bed room beside the most rude, obnoxious British man I’ve ever met. He swore at staff, abused the physio, and even called me “the bloody stupid woman beside him” — within earshot.

Each day I went for scans, weaving past corridors crammed with equipment and extra beds. Not one staff member smiled. Not the nurses, not the doctors, not even the construction crew working on-site.

So, I decided to try something.

On a trip to the CT scanner, I asked a nurse for white tape and a black marker. They’d given me a rolled-up towel to hold against my fractured ribs when I coughed, so I decorated it with eyes, a nose, and a big grin. Across the top I wrote: “My name is Teddy.”

The nurse burst out laughing — and as I wheeled Teddy through the hospital, so did everyone else. Staff smiled, workmen laughed, and for a moment, the heaviness lifted. Teddy became a little legend on the ward. (The rude man next to me remained unchanged — some things are beyond even Teddy’s powers.)

One little act of silliness can’t fix the challenges our public hospitals face. But it can remind us that even in the toughest places, there’s still room for joy — and that joy can be contagious.