A Gloom.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is story of my experience of a hospital stay. And the feelings that it envoked within.

Submitted: April 15, 2007

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Submitted: April 15, 2007

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I was up by the crack of dawn in readiness for the trip to the hospital. My mood solemn as I looked at the day's activities ahead. The last month's waiting game was beginning to take it's toll as the drive to the hospital strained my emotions. Stewart passively walking on egg shells trying desperately to reassure me as my nerves revealed a coldness. The distance of space between us growing each minute, like a familiar tune we have both played before.

Ariving at the hospital in time to hear my name called leaves me  feeling trapped with no escape, I force myself to go through the motions as the numbness takes over. My mind races on reliving the rassurance that it6 is only for a day procedure and that I will soon be back to the comfort of my little home by nightfall. When I prepared last night I made sure that I had packed enough for at least an overnight stay. History has taught me to be prepared for the unexpected.

Walking into a small room with it's drab appearance of stark grey walls, I notice that these are in dire need of some paint. While a single bed in the middloe of the room only adds to the empty lonely feeling. It's white neatly folded sheets and the cold rails lowered did nothing to entice comfort. Beside the bed stands a set of draws deep enough to cram all the things you accumillate during a hospital stay.

Along one wall is a glass sliding door leading to a seating area, a place for smokers to light up and pace while warding off the cold. Next to the sliding door is another door that leads to the bathroom and toilet, these are to accommmodate two adjoining rooms.

Settling in quickly a nurse fills in the endless load of forms. She sets about to explain the procedure and what I was to expect. Pleasantly reassureing me that the doctor would be along soon and not to hesitate if I need anything, she leaves us to our own devices. Stewart and I settle in for the long wait ahead, our newspapers and magazines there to enthrall us and giving temporary escape as the morning drags by.

The background sounds of movement in the corridoors and the indistinct smells drift me back to my childhood. The many hospital stays to be left alone and scared as I tried to be dads' brave little girl, but at the same time wanting to cry and beg him to take me home. I would curl up in the big lonely bed and watch the strangers all around me, some would smile as they passed by, I would try to hold back the tears. The nurses would come and go in their white dresses, reminding me of the lemon smell of my grandmother's pillowcases. They would go about adjusting the sheets and giving cool drinks to sip.

Waiting and wishing for my mum to come. When she arrives I would cling to her as she comforted and kissed me. The time spent together would go by so quickly . But I felt special as she praised me when I didn't cry when the nurse gave me a needle. Being brave didn't come easy though as the silent words that I wanted to speak remain etched deep in my heart.

A smile creeps over me as I look up at Stewart, I can see the annoyance beginning to show as the newspaper falls down giving way to the pacing across the floor. The nurse appears in the doorway tries to appease the anxious look in Stewarts' eyesas she explains that the doctor is running late and that it would be at least two o'clock before I would go down. Not eating and drinking sice midnight is slowly taking its toll as my stomach grumbles. The realization that I would not be going home today was setting as the hours start to tick by.

Finally two o'clock arrives and leaving Stewart with words of endearment I am wheeled down to the operating theatre. My thoughts of Stewart and his concerns weigh heavily knowing that no matter how many times we go through this it is never easy. As a couple we are close spending all our time together, so the thought of him going home alone wells deep inside of me.

Waking up from the anesthetic is scary as my blood pressure is very low and the gas has left me with a thumping headache. All in all though the procededur goes well. Stewart looking calmer leaves me to go home for some much needed food and rest while I spend most of the night reading and sleeping.

The next morning drags on like the day before as I wait patiently for the all clear to go home. The doctors take some more tests and I wait for the results. Finally it is midday and I have the all clear to leave. Bags packed and in a taxi I'm on my way home within fifteen minutes, it is the quickest exit I have ever made. But ahead of me to come will be more tests and  a whole month of waiting for the final result. Expecting the worse all I can think is that I am looking down the barrel of a gun with the thought of more major surgery hanging over me like a dark gloomy cloud. The long sleepless nights will continue for some time to come, but for now at least I am going home.


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