Anonymous respect, and powerlessness to help...

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I work in Morriston Hospital as a student volunteer. Today it was my turn to help run the information desk.
At about 11:20, after having sat through a pretty mundane few hours of doodling and card-playing, whilst directing the odd (no pun intended. Honest...) pensioner to various areas of the hospital, a fairly young man - early thirties at most - came to the desk.
Slurring, gesticulating and lurching as he was, we were fairly convinced that he was drunk, and had therefore to be dealt with "kid-gloves" on.
Until we noticed his clothes.
This man was wearing the active duty uniform of a Royal Marine Sergeant, replete with 60lb pack.
He was asking for the quickest way to get to the train-station, and was in evident pain, and struggled to speak as clearly as he could.
After informing him that he needed to catch a bus to get to the train-station, we made inquiries about him. It turns out that he'd been on an exercise on the Brecon Beacons, and had fallen and hit his head on some rocks. Airlifted to Morriston, he was left there for treatment, whilst his unit returned to Poole.
This was a man who'd fallen down a 25ft drop onto boulders the size of cars, who'd had a sliver of bone removed from his neck and whom could barely stand upright... This man was setting out for Poole, to rejoin his unit.
He'd discharged himself from the hospital, and we had uninteltionally facillitated his departure by giving him directions.
On hearing this, the other two volunteers with me were completely taken aback. I was too, but in a different way.
I had nothing but respect for this man, and for his strength - both physical and mental.

It really puts a new perspective on some of my reactions to the pettiest of things - and others' too.
He has inspired me.
He has my utmopst respect, and I hope he's ok, although I think it would take infinitely more to stop him.

Consider me humbled, to the extreme.

End.