'Jesus, that's a massive hat Alfred's wearing' is the thought that passes flashes through my head; it scrolls through my brain like a rolling news channel ticker-tape.
It shouldn't be the most pressing thing inside my head given the circumstances, and yet I can't help but think it. Alfred really is wearing a massive hat. He lies prostrate on a hospital trolley before me, occasionally jerking his arms spasmodically.
He's in a hospital gown, with a small pock mark on his right arm the only indication that something might not be right. Well, that and the ridiculous hat. Obviously.