My Feelings on Hospitals Part II

Read Part I of this series here…
In my last post, I spoke about how hospitals had been described. In the second part of this series, I would like to talk about my experience with Hospitals. After all, this is called ‘My Feelings on Hospitals.’

I personally have never been to a hospital (thank god), and I’m talking about a proper hospital. I have been to clinics a lot and I think my pediatrician is just about done with me, ’cause my medical file must be eating a lot of space on her tablet.
I have tons of allergies including dust (How on earth can you undust everything?), smoke (There goes my cooking career. Goodbye Masterchef!) and chlorine (Thanks a lot, dad. Now I can never have a real summer of fun because I can’t swim in chlorinated water, which just happens to be 90% of all water). But I don’t like to complain.

I have had a lot of interesting incidences. From tormenting black kernels of popcorn in noses leading to a traumatising instance with the doctor threatening to cut my nose off if I did not cooperate, (He actually said that! And he pointed to the guy outside his office with heavy bandages covering his entire nose. I was scared!) to me being extremely overenthusiastic (still true) to see my mother after school leading to an extremely painful and embarrassing accident with me rolling down two flights of stairs (i’m not really still into that) and ending with bleeding knees in the backseat of a car.

Don’t worry, I’m alright even if I still have the scars to prove it. (wink) I could regale you with multiple anecdotes of my narrow misses of death (brushes invisible speck of dust off shoulder) but this post is not about that. (also, do you think I should? make a post about that I mean? never mind, I’m getting off-topic)

The point of all of my incessant rambling is, Hospitals can be amazing! They symbolise hope and cure and all of the developments of the 21st century (as opposed to Jane Austen’s 19th century). They save lives and hey, anyone who gives out free desk candy, is okay in my book.

And just like the previous post of this series, I’m ending this with a thought. Do you think hospitals symbolise hope or are they just a painful and cruel reminder to all those who loved the people medicine just couldn’t save? Ponder on that and I’ve given the English teachers something to make all you lazybones write about. Sorry, I did mention I sold out for fame and freedom, right?

ANVI TUTEJA

---

-with you till the end of the line, pal-

---

---