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Rated: E · Essay · Other · #1892381
Does any one really wants to be there.
September 15, 2012. Veterans Memorial Medical Center. I could never get used to hospitals. It's a special place to take care of sick people, where questions about health are answered. Sometimes the truth would give you hope or will crush your dreams either way, being at the hospital makes me wonder how vulnerable life can be. That every day is a gift we need to cherish and share with our loved ones.

I have always felt an eerie coldness when I walk hospital corridors. Unlike when you go to malls or in other places, seldom would you see people walking around hospital smiling. As I pass by visitors and patients I couldn't help but feel a pinch in my heart as if I could hear their pains.

My wife I got down to buy snacks. It took us several minutes to finally decide on what to buy for my mother in law who was admitted for a sudden sugar level upsurge - we found out she was diabetic. The reason why her small wound on her back don't heal. In the cafeteria it's all the same. I saw a young mother eating with her son with a blank stare. She couldn't even notice that her son is calling her attention. An old man probably a father buys food but his mind is not on what he is doing. His face shows that he haven't slept for days.

As we go back to the second floor Ward 9, room for pre op patients, residents there have been well acquainted with each other. Sharing foods, watching tv on a small player and one even asked me if I would like to have coffee. Their friendly smiles takes a way some of the worries of reality. As I hear their stories it's all about "things-will-be-better" stuff. There is always hope and like a typically Filipino spirit you can never put a good one down.

As the sun sets and the night comes we decided to spend it in VMMC since Auntie will be only available tomorrow and nobody will attend to Mama. We hardly slept. There's is only one bed and that is for the patient and all we have is a plastic chair with an arm rest. My wife crumpled her self to share Mama's bed and I tried sleeping upright while sitting. I did got some rest but hardly really slept.

As the morning breaks I saw the sun unfolds and bring its warm rays inside the hospital ward. But soon enough it was replaced by droplets of rain and ijust a few minutes the sky dimmed and we cancelled our plans of walking around the VMMC park.

I found myself walking again around the hospital corridors and tried not to get lost. The floor area is huge and there are so many twist and turns. The place smells like an old library that tells you that many people have been in there. Paintings hang on the walls depicting stories of Filipino soldiers taken cared by hospital nurses. As you walk outside you would see a quote "Taking care of our Living Heroes!"

As I walk back I saw then again an old man in a wheelchair and I am sure he was once a soldier from the looks of his hair and the way he tucked in his shirt to his pants. For the past two mornings I've seen him making rounds around the hospital pushing the wheelchair by his feet backwards and sometimes using his hands as if he is trying to exercise. I wanted to talk to him and I know he would have told me his story but I have to hurry back and we need to go home.

There are thousands of people who find hospitals as the turning point of their life where sickness and accident reminds them about how frail our body can be and that there can be second chances. Some lay down and find it as their last resting place like my mom a year back. Either way we will all have our visit in this place. Like the doctors usually says, "You get well and I don't want to see you here again for the same reason!"

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