Smell:
As I pull up and park, I step out of my car to smell rain and motor oil. I make my way to the hospital doors, push my way inside and am greeted with the aroma of coffee and fresh baked goods from the cafe. Making my way to the elevator, I pick up on the fact that someone has just applied hand sanitizer, that smell of perfume and rubbing alcohol. The elevator also smells mechanical and warn. The heat from the lights putting out their own odor.
Touch:
I try not to touch too many surfaces in the hospital as they are covered with germs and I don't want to take any back to my friend and her new baby. The doorknobs are cold and hard as I open the door. The elevator buttons are smooth and warm to push. When I reach my friend, she is warm and firm to hug. Its so good to be able to see her and to know that she is ok. I take the baby. She is perfectly soft and warm.
Sight:
To see them brings me joy. The room is dimly lit. The curtains are pulled tight and she is all wrapped up tightly in the white hospital blankets. The baby is swaddled in the softest of pail pink fleece. The floor looks cold, all the tiles of white and gray. There is a look of worry and exhaustion on the faces of my friends. I can see it fade a bit after I tell them that the twins are fine and can stay as long as needed! She looks so peaceful as she closes her eyes to rest.
Hear:
I can hear the ding of the elevator bell. People are busy talking amongst them selves. The clickidy- clack of feet in a hurry, fill the hallways. The door to the room gives a squeak as it is opened. I tiptoe quietly in the room, trying not to make a sound. I hear the T.V on. We start our conversation and her voice is strained with worry, and does not sound like her own. She closes her eyes to rest and I sit in silence and listen to her breathing. Then the baby cries loudly.
Taste:
The mint flavor of my gum does a great job of taking care of the sweet and yet bitter coffee I had this morning. After a warm cup of caffeine, I needed a cold cup. I chose mountain dew. I really need the pick me up after the up all night worry thing I had going on and the cold crisp, almost citrus like drink really helped. Sometimes it seemed to be flavorless due to the amount of coldness.
Story of the place:
Ok, most of the people I know hate hospitals. That is a place you go to die. I on the other hand, beg to differ. The majority of the time I have been in there, either as a patient or a visitor, you went in, got better, and went home. You look around and wonder, while people watching, what else is going on. Did that DR. have a long night? Are his patients ok? Did the ladies at the front desk make it in without trouble? Did that man just loose his wife? Lots of emotions float around in this building.
Story:
If money was no object and I could be anywhere in the world right now, I would have skipped school to go and be with my good friend who was admitted in the hospital last night. Their family had a beautiful new baby girl a little over a week ago. They called around 10pm last night because they needed someone to watch their twins (my daughters age) so they could take mom to the ER. I have no word this morning other than they kept her last night. I'm worried and want to be there to take care of her and hold her hand. I want to reassure her everything is going to be alright. If I can't be with her, I'm honored to be the one to care for her children! Having them near me makes me feel closer to their mother. I would hope she would find comfort in the fact that she would not have to worry about the twins and be able to focus on her healing. Ok, most of the people I know hate hospitals. That is a place you go to die. I on the other hand, beg to differ. The majority of the time I have been in there, either as a patient or a visitor, you went in, got better, and went home. As I pull up and park, I step out of my car to smell rain and motor oil. I make my way to the hospital doors and push my way inside. The doorknobs are cold and hard as I open the door. People are busy talking amongst them selves. The clickidy- clack of feet in a hurry, fill the hallways. I am greeted with the aroma of coffee and fresh baked goods from the cafe.The mint flavor of my gum does a great job of taking care of the sweet and yet bitter coffee I had this morning. I can hear the ding of the elevator bell. I try not to touch too many surfaces in the hospital as they are covered with germs and I don't want to take any back to my friend and her new baby. The elevator buttons are smooth and warm to push. The elevator also smells mechanical and warm. The heat from the lights putting out their own odor. I pick up on the fact that someone has just applied hand sanitizer, that smell of perfume and rubbing alcohol. The door to the room gives a squeak as it is opened. I tiptoe quietly in the room, trying not to make a sound. I hear the T.V on. To see them brings me joy. The room is dimly lit. The curtains are pulled tight and she is all wrapped up in the white hospital blankets. The baby is swaddled in the softest of pail pink fleece.When I reach my friend, she is warm and firm to hug. Its so good to be able to see her and to know that she is ok. We start our conversation and her voice is strained with worry, and does not sound like her own. There is a look of worry and exhaustion on the faces of my friends. I can see it fade a bit after I tell them that the twins are fine and can stay as long as needed! She looks so peaceful as she closes her eyes to rest. I sit in silence and listen to her breathing. Then the baby cries loudly. There is no such thing as rest while you are in the hospital.
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