Fire
On Wednesday, January 2, 2008 just before 1:30pm, a fire broke out in a plant room on the top floor of the hospital, which led to the evacuation of all patients and staff from the unit. The entire roof of the Chelsea Wing of the hospital was burned through, and the top floor was also affected. Five operating theatres and at least two wards were put out of action. The smoke was visible for miles around.
In addition to the evacuation of 200 staff and outpatients, 79 inpatients - 37 of them bedded - were moved to a local church and the neighbouring Royal Brompton Hospital, some being carried on hospital mattresses by a team of emergency services and doctors. Two patients were still undergoing surgery in the operating theatres in the basement and had to be evacuated. Later, full-care was resumed by RM medical staff who re-assembled on the wards of The Royal Brompton.
A hospital official said that damage was less than thought and BBC reports the day after the fire stated that out-patients would be seen on the following Monday and that research documentation had not been lost.
When the fire was at its peak, 125 firefighters and 16 ambulances were in attendance. Two members of staff suffered slight smoke inhalation but there were no other casualties or injuries. They were taken to the nearby Chelsea and Westminster Hospital A&E department.
Monday 7 January saw the reopening of its outpatients department and radiotherapy unit. Later that week, inpatients were welcomed back to The Royal Marsden from their temporary home at The Royal Brompton.
Read more about this topic: The Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust
Famous quotes containing the word fire:
“his lips meet mine, and a flood
Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown
Against him, die and find death good.”
—D.H. (David Herbert)
“African rights and liberty is a subject that ought to fire the breast of every free man of color in these United States, and excite in his bosom a lively, deep, decided and heart-felt interest.”
—Maria Stewart (1803–1879)
“Gradually I regained my usual composure. I reread Pale Fire more carefully. I liked it better when expecting less. And what was that? What was that dim distant music, those vestiges of color in the air? Here and there I discovered in it and especially, especially in the invaluable variants, echoes and spangles of my mind, a long ripplewake of my glory.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977)