Hospital Fever
Have you ever felt that dread before goin to a hospital? Sure it's a place of remedy and healing, but how about the emotions one has to deal with while inside a hospital?
My first memory of being inside a hospital was a big bright light. Apparently I had just woken up after being knocked unconscious by a girl (hey, it doesn't sound that bad) when I was still a kid. I climbed up our neighbors's stairs and when I was already all the way up, a little girl shut the door, causing me to immediately lose whatever balance I had, proceeding to bang my right eyebrow area with a sharp-edged rock on the ground. That was the first time that I learned about stitches and not in a very scholarly way.
Did I ever tell you that I was afraid of needles? Come to think of it, maybe I still do. Once, my mom brought me along for a medical check-up. Silly me for being so naive about things. She tried to sugarcoat it by buying me ice-cream before the checkup, therefore I smelled something was fishy. She assured me that there will be nothing that's gonna be stuck in any part of my body. One Big Lie. I had to be held by four nurses because I wouldn't stop crying like a sissy once I saw that syringe. They kept assuring me that it will feel like an ant bit me (hey, that hurts too, you know!). Worse, they gave me a double-serving of needle shots, so I cried even more (what a sissy!) Strange though coz the more I cried, the more my mother promised to buy me toys and massive amounts of ice-cream. If I were a cartoon, I'd have a lightbulb above my head. Thirty minutes later, I had a new toy car in my left hand and ice-cream on the right. Genius.
Not all visits in the hospital result to toy cars and rocky road. Sometimes, it's just bad hospital food. They're no hotels and their concern is to cure you, if their food doesn't kill you first. I mean, do they really have to experiment on their food? I swear one day I thought I was gonna be served mutated potatoes after they had given me killer tomatoes. Ouch.
My worst hospital story was waiting in the ICU for my grandma to pass away. She had an aneurysm and the doctors were against the idea for an operation as it would ultimately be futile. That day was total shite, with us feeling helpless and petrified. In the end, my grandma passed away after several hours. Not my fondest day in a hospital.
The feeling of helplessness is sorta familiar with me. I've been paralyzed from the neck all the way down to my toes twice. Worse, I could still feel sensations from my paralyzed parts. Whenever I wanted to scratch something, I'd have to close my eyes and hope that the feeling will go away. Wrong! That was torture. Once I tried to get up, thinking that I'm Superman. Suprisingly, my feet were able to support me for 5 seconds. I then fell down to the floor, slamming the back of my head. Goodbye, private room, hello ICU.
I didn't wanna go to the ICU simply because it means that my condition was near-critical, which was entirely true but still I had my objections about it: the ICU doesn't have a television. OK, so pretty damn stupid for a guy who's minutes away from having a cardiac arrest but the boredom might as well have killed me in the damn ICU. All I had for recreation was looking at my heartbeat monitor thingamajig (which I'd play with. I'd hold my breath so that I'd slow my heartbeat. I wanted to see it flatline, ok) watching people die (splendid reality tv), hearing patients' last rites (that's why I decline when priests ask me if I wanted to be prayed over. I'm not dead yet, dude.), and listening to nurses' gossip. I remembered all of these today because it's the 4th year anniversary of such event. I'm so proud to have survived this long. Somebody up there must love me.
There are no plans for me to return to that sodding place anytime soon. The last time I was there, I was getting anti-rabies shots coz a dog bit me, our dog bit me (shitty bastard!). That's why I'll never be a nurse or a doctor. As Migraine Boy said it, "I'd rather catch pneumonia and die."
Maybe I don't wanna die, but if I feel like I'm on the brink, send me to a hospital, quick!
My first memory of being inside a hospital was a big bright light. Apparently I had just woken up after being knocked unconscious by a girl (hey, it doesn't sound that bad) when I was still a kid. I climbed up our neighbors's stairs and when I was already all the way up, a little girl shut the door, causing me to immediately lose whatever balance I had, proceeding to bang my right eyebrow area with a sharp-edged rock on the ground. That was the first time that I learned about stitches and not in a very scholarly way.
Did I ever tell you that I was afraid of needles? Come to think of it, maybe I still do. Once, my mom brought me along for a medical check-up. Silly me for being so naive about things. She tried to sugarcoat it by buying me ice-cream before the checkup, therefore I smelled something was fishy. She assured me that there will be nothing that's gonna be stuck in any part of my body. One Big Lie. I had to be held by four nurses because I wouldn't stop crying like a sissy once I saw that syringe. They kept assuring me that it will feel like an ant bit me (hey, that hurts too, you know!). Worse, they gave me a double-serving of needle shots, so I cried even more (what a sissy!) Strange though coz the more I cried, the more my mother promised to buy me toys and massive amounts of ice-cream. If I were a cartoon, I'd have a lightbulb above my head. Thirty minutes later, I had a new toy car in my left hand and ice-cream on the right. Genius.
Not all visits in the hospital result to toy cars and rocky road. Sometimes, it's just bad hospital food. They're no hotels and their concern is to cure you, if their food doesn't kill you first. I mean, do they really have to experiment on their food? I swear one day I thought I was gonna be served mutated potatoes after they had given me killer tomatoes. Ouch.
My worst hospital story was waiting in the ICU for my grandma to pass away. She had an aneurysm and the doctors were against the idea for an operation as it would ultimately be futile. That day was total shite, with us feeling helpless and petrified. In the end, my grandma passed away after several hours. Not my fondest day in a hospital.
The feeling of helplessness is sorta familiar with me. I've been paralyzed from the neck all the way down to my toes twice. Worse, I could still feel sensations from my paralyzed parts. Whenever I wanted to scratch something, I'd have to close my eyes and hope that the feeling will go away. Wrong! That was torture. Once I tried to get up, thinking that I'm Superman. Suprisingly, my feet were able to support me for 5 seconds. I then fell down to the floor, slamming the back of my head. Goodbye, private room, hello ICU.
I didn't wanna go to the ICU simply because it means that my condition was near-critical, which was entirely true but still I had my objections about it: the ICU doesn't have a television. OK, so pretty damn stupid for a guy who's minutes away from having a cardiac arrest but the boredom might as well have killed me in the damn ICU. All I had for recreation was looking at my heartbeat monitor thingamajig (which I'd play with. I'd hold my breath so that I'd slow my heartbeat. I wanted to see it flatline, ok) watching people die (splendid reality tv), hearing patients' last rites (that's why I decline when priests ask me if I wanted to be prayed over. I'm not dead yet, dude.), and listening to nurses' gossip. I remembered all of these today because it's the 4th year anniversary of such event. I'm so proud to have survived this long. Somebody up there must love me.
There are no plans for me to return to that sodding place anytime soon. The last time I was there, I was getting anti-rabies shots coz a dog bit me, our dog bit me (shitty bastard!). That's why I'll never be a nurse or a doctor. As Migraine Boy said it, "I'd rather catch pneumonia and die."
Maybe I don't wanna die, but if I feel like I'm on the brink, send me to a hospital, quick!
