7. Hospitals

How many of us have not had a hospital stay? Those of you who haven't, have at least been to a hospital... in this age of sickness and ill health.... who hasn't?

They have a smell. Don't they? And it's always the same. It smells like sick. And a little institutional. Like palpable despair. Sadness so thick you could cut through it with a knife. Sick institutional despair.

Pleasant.

What folks don't know about are the funny smells that attack when you live in the hospital for a week. Or two. When you have hospital visits every few months (almost like clockwork). And you sleep there. And you eat there. And you attempt to wash there. The pumps... the beeping... the needle pricks... the noise.

There is the washrooms with a shower head, that have no discernable shower, just a drain in floor. It helps when you have a pump and hose attached to your arm (or two... as I have had the pleasure of dealing with) and have to pull some Circe-de-Soleil-ish moves to get yourself in there without ripping your arm(s) open. But it also has the audacity to make you feel like your in prison. Not that I have been to prison per se. Just from what I see on HBO the shower rooms are not really rooms at all but just large open areas with the said drains in the floor. They have this standardized pump soap that is soap/shampoo/conditioner-and-antibacterial all in one. Very convenient! It has a nice flowery smell actually.

The problem is that flowery smell can attack you out of nowhere when you least expect it. Long after you have left the Sick Institutional Despair, on a nice summer day outside you can be walking your dog, happy as a clam (where did that expression come from anyway? Do you think clams are happy? That they lead happy-little-contented lives? With those irritating grains of sand that bother them and make them create beautiful precious pearls for us?) when BAM your neighbor has planted the wrong flowers in their garden and the smell suddenly brings back raging memories of Sick Institutional Despair and the day is not beautiful anymore. Now your thinking of prison showers, being poked with needles, and disturbing blue gowns that show your bum when you stand up.

If you ask anyone about hospitals, the first thing they think of is the Food. Hospital Food is an entity in itself. I actually don't mind the Food myself. It's the most exciting part of the hospital day! 3 meals in bed. What could be better? Brought on a tray, as much coffee as you like. And they always gave me pudding. Not too shabby.

Even despite the fantastic culinary delights, the hospital is still not a great experience. In fact I couldn't think of a single decent memory of the hospital until last week. It was always a horrible place, but I am still surprised that I overlooked this one thing....

My best friend had her baby. A beautiful tiny girl. All pink and perfect. And when I went to visit her in the hospital I walked in and smelled that familiar Sick Institutional Despair, but it didn't effect me the same. I was just so happy! And it made me think that maybe this place isn't really meant to be the awful prison it seems. The health care workers are there to help us, to return us from sickness to health and to deliver to us new lives.

What could be more encouraging than that?