Bring the long charger

What gets used in a hospital bed is small and dull. The cable that came with the phone is too short: the socket is often far from the bed, and a patient who is not supposed to get up cannot reach it. Many people named the same fix — a long charging cable, or a charged power bank — and it came up alongside a run of other small, cheap things that fix what a hospital gets wrong.

Bring small things that fix a hospital’s discomforts — a long charger, non-slip footwear, lip balm, earplugs — and check any food or drink with the nurse, not the patient.

What gets used

• Power. A long cable or a power bank, as above. One warning: a cable stretched across the floor is a trip hazard, and fall-safety rules forbid it, so ask the nurse where to plug in. One person warns extension leads are generally not allowed in patient areas either — check before you bring one. And one person warned that medicines make people drowsy, so a phone or tablet can slide off the bed; a case or a stand helps.
• Something to do. Hospitals are boring, some people say: books, an e-reader, audiobooks, puzzles, a deck of cards, magazines, a download of films or a gift card for them, since one person says the bedside TV can be limited and expensive. Headphones matter here too. Before you bring anything that needs a phone or a screen, ask whether they can use one right now — one person warns some patients can’t, depending on their state.
• Sleep. Wards are noisy and bright, some people say, and the monitors beep. An eye mask and earplugs are cheap and they get used, especially in a shared room.
• Skin and hygiene. Hospital air is dry and hands get washed a lot: some people mention lip balm and hand cream. For anyone stuck in bed for more than a few days, baby wipes — one person says a bedpan without them is unpleasant, though another says their hospital provided them. Tell them the wipes are not for flushing; one person described them blocking a hospital’s pipes. Some people add the small things a person who can’t get up cannot do for themselves: hair-removal products, a supportive pillow. One warning applies to all of it: ask the nurse before bringing a cream or a lotion, because some products can interfere with treatment.
• Warmth. Hospitals are often cold, many people say. A soft blanket helps — though one person notes it has to be carried home by hand at discharge, so offer to help pack. A personal pillow is worth asking about: one person says some hospitals ban them because of bedbugs, and another suggests a cheap one you don’t mind throwing away. Put the person’s name on anything you bring.
• Feet. This is where the gift can do harm. A nurse said ordinary socks are slipperier than ice on a hospital floor, and that hospitals hand out grip socks for a reason. So: no plain socks. What to bring instead is less settled than people suggest. They say grip-soled socks, or slippers with a non-slip sole. A 2026 NHS guideline in Scotland says grip socks are a stopgap with little evidence that they prevent falls, and asks relatives to bring well-fitting shoes with laces or a strap, rather than slip-on slippers. A small 2023 study in one hospital in Spain found fewer falls with grip socks than with well-fitting footwear. Ask the nurse what this person should wear on this ward — and if they are walking about, their own proper shoes are worth bringing in.
• The odd specific thing. One person listed a flat scratcher for an itchy plaster cast, a colouring book, a small fan: cheap, and exactly right for the person who needs one.

Flowers, and the other traditional gifts

Many people mention flowers, and not kindly. They take up the little space there is, their scent can bring on headaches or nausea, the patient or the person in the next bed or a nurse may be allergic, and at discharge somebody has to carry them out. One person singles out lilies for their scent; another points out that some flowers are poisonous to pets once they get home, and that some people read them as a funeral gift. One person warns someone on chemotherapy can be extremely sensitive to smells. Some wards ban flowers outright, and people single out intensive care, where flowers and potted plants are often not allowed. The US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention advises keeping fresh and dried flowers and potted plants away from patients whose immune system is weakened, because flowers and plants can harbour a mould that infects them — while noting there is little evidence of harm to other patients. So check with the ward, and if in doubt, give them to the person at home instead, as one person did. The exception, one person said, is someone you know loves flowers and who isn’t already surrounded by them.

The other traditional gifts get mixed reviews. People differ on balloons — one smiles at them, one finds them pointless. One person defended a soft toy as a real comfort in a hard, clean room. And one exchange split on photographs of the patient looking well: a boost to one person, and to another a painful reminder of what they have lost for now. It depends on the person, and on how they are feeling about how they look.

Food, the safe way

Real food can be a great gift — one person said a proper meal or a filling snack beats chocolates, which a patient may not want, and another that home cooking or a dessert beats flowers. Hospital food can be bland, and one person listed the things that liven it up — seasoning, butter, mayonnaise, cheese, honey, a sauce. But food is one of the gifts that can hurt someone, and the box at the top of this page says why. Some people put it the same way: ask the nursing staff, not the patient. One person sets out the reason bluntly — patients forget what they are allowed, and the nurse has the chart. Another is specific: condiments need checking even when the patient says they are fine, because salt and potassium can matter for their medicines or their kidneys.

A few more lines from the same conversations. Shop-bought and sealed is safer than homemade or unwrapped. Some units don’t allow outside food at all. One person warns to know their allergies before you bring anything. One person warns outside food can be unsafe for someone who has trouble swallowing; ask before you bring anything. Sugar-free sweets are not the easy answer for someone with diabetes: one person points out that the sweeteners in them, sugar alcohols, can have a laxative effect — in the US, foods that could lead someone to eat a lot of sorbitol must carry that warning on the label. And if a patient is on a strict diet they find hard, one person gave the plain reason to respect it anyway: there is a medical reason for the limit.

The candy bowl, and the nurses

One idea divides people: a big bowl of wrapped sweets in the patient’s room, refilled every visit, to bring the nurses and doctors in more often and give the patient company. Its supporters say it brightens the stay. Others push back on the central claim: nurses say they rarely have time to stop for sweets, and that staff don’t walk into a room for treats unless they are looking after that patient or have been invited. Staff describe food in a patient’s room as unhygienic — it sits near bedpan changes and coughing — and some won’t touch it for that reason; one person adds that an open bowl collects germs.

There are clinical reasons, too, and they are not matters of taste. A bowl of sweets in the room is a problem if the patient is on nothing by mouth, if they have diabetes, if a morning blood test needs them to have fasted, or if they are confused and might choke, or on a strict diet and might sneak one. One person adds a quieter problem: if the person in the next bed has diabetes, the patient is left either refusing them or giving them something that interferes with their care. And for a new parent who needs sleep, a plan to draw more people into the room is the opposite of what they need.

So the treat for the staff works on these conditions: wrapped and shop-bought, taken to the nurses’ station rather than left in the room, and clearly labelled as for them — one person noted that staff otherwise assume it belongs to the patient and leave it alone. The questions below say what nurses said about whether it changes anything.

Visits

Some people say being there matters more than any gift. Isolation in a hospital bed is hard, and one person says visitors tend to stop coming after the first few days of a long stay. But some people also say to ask first: some patients hate being seen unwell, or find a visitor tiring when they feel awful. Short, planned visits — some people call them flying visits — leave them room to rest; a deck of cards gives you something to do together that asks nothing of them. If a stream of relatives is wearing them out, one person says to tell the staff; they are happy to step in so the patient can sleep. And if the person in the next bed seems to be in pain, or nobody has come to them, one person suggests quietly telling a nurse — the staff may be stretched thin.

One warning is worth taking to heart: don’t promise to visit, or to bring something, unless you are sure you will. For someone who cannot get out of bed, a visit that does not happen is a long, disappointing day.

If they are on a psychiatric ward

The rules are stricter here, and they exist for safety. A psychiatrist and others list what is not allowed on the wards they know: anything with strings or cords, glass (including picture frames), electronics, sharp things — ordinary pens and pencils included — and products with alcohol in them, which can include lotions and conditioners. Clothing and fabric can be restricted too. Check with the staff before you bring anything at all. What tends to be fine: comfortable clothes the staff have checked, sealed food, and quiet things to do. For someone recovering from a suicide attempt, some people suggest something low-pressure, like a colouring book, rather than a traditional gift; the psychiatrist added that crayons, markers or soft rubber pens are the usual way round the pencil rule.

If they have just had a baby

One person said to skip the flowers and balloons for a new parent in hospital: they already have too much to manage and carry home, and what they need is food and energy. Another said visitors can make a new parent feel forgotten by fussing only over the baby — ask how they are. And rest comes first: this is a stay where you don’t want to draw more people into the room.

Who this page is not for

If the person you are visiting is a child, this page is about adults and doesn’t say what works for children. If they are in intensive care or in isolation, the unit’s own rules decide who can visit and what can come in — one person says some intensive care units don’t allow children to visit — so call ahead. If they are unconscious, or near the end of their life, this is a different kind of visit, and this page doesn’t cover it. If a bill from the stay is the worry, that is its own subject; there is a page here about hospital bills.

And if they have told you they don’t want visitors, that is the answer. A message, a delivery left at the desk, or a call later in the week can carry the same care.

When they are well again, one more thing is worth doing. Some people say nurses rarely see the patients who recover — once the crisis is over, people stop coming — so a visit or a card to the ward, from the person who got better, means a great deal to the people who looked after them.