How many doctors around the country have inadvertent mementos of their peripatetic working life scattered about their homes?
I have no idea where this pillow came from. Presumably some Memorial Hospital somewhere, but which one? It must be decades old, anyway. Full of bedbugs I imagine, which is why it’s in the guest bedroom*. It’s one of those old ones filled with chips of foam rubber. I like them, actually, although they aren’t popular nowadays. They keep their shape much better than feather ones, which end up flat and hard.
It wouldn’t have been deliberately stolen, but probably accidentally packed up by some moving company. Once we arrived at our new home to find a broken toilet seat from the shed had come with us, as well as all our pieces of firewood, individually wrapped in newspaper. This is the corollary of “if you want a job done properly, you have to do it yourself “. It’s a price I’m willing to pay.
*Not true! It’s in my daughter’s room.