❝ Sometimes you ask for a child’s innocence, and be granted oblivion when the world is harsh and cruel, but reality would seeped in and the thing you wish for the most is just like a fantasy from a fairy tale. ❞
There’s just something in hospitals that depresses me so I would always stay away from it as much as possible. There’s just that feeling of melancholy and despair that hangs in the air and if I get exposed to it, it will get under my skin and affect me. It’s just that the mere thought of it was something to be dreaded about.
When I was in my secondary years in school, I hated it when people asked me what course I would take when I get to college. And they’re always like, “Why not Nursing?”. I can’t blame them though. Nurses were so in demand in US at that time that they expected everyone would just jump in the wagon because of the thought of dollars. They never would understand and I really didn’t want to tell them a novella about why I’ve chosen my preferred field. I was always just like, “I’m allergic to chemical smell.” Which was true enough but it get the conversation to an end.
When I was in college though, a close friend of mine would suffer something that we had to rush her to the ER. And it got to the point that it happens at least once a year that it just became an habitual yearly thing, different reasons though. We then would urge her to admit herself, myself acting as a guardian so we could process the papers although she was older than me but being the distress good friend that I am that we could get the papers processed until we get the room, so that we could sleep at a private room, watch cable channels and experience the AC overnight. Such good friend that we are.
Kidding aside, that experience actually brought me to not hate hospitals and did my intern at one on their administrative building. It was like a child’s play, and it made me sympathetic but detached in hospital matters including the whole melancholy and sorrow thing that I usually associate it with.
But life plays as a game and some certain events had led me back to associate hospitals in such a way, forgetting the fun I had with it. I never thought I’d sleep in one again, not as a patient, but a companion to one. Funny thing is, this is what have been going through my mind during my stay.
Death, for me means an escape to life. Either it may be of old age, or sickness, or something tragic. And I had experiences of everything, seeing how life goes out from a body and experiencing that surreal feeling that another angel have joined the heavens.
P.S. I have forgotten I have this written in my drafts and never got to publish. That last time I stayed in a hospital, these were my thoughts. That morning following the night I stayed, my grandfather held his last breath. His will and mind was strong, but his body was weak and couldn’t handle the fight he is fighting. All I felt at that moment was relief. I was maybe stoic and emotionless, because I really didn’t know how to react, but I feel relieved because he didn’t have to feel pain anymore and he had made peace that the fight was just over. He didn’t lose. He won because he was at ease, and accepted that it was already his time to leave earth.