Living in Hospitals

Twelve bucks for a salad, can you believe it? Torn pieces of day old iceberg- iceberg isn't even lettuce, it's water based cellulose with no nutritional value. Limp, soggy and tasteless, topped with diced squashed tomatoes that have been refrigerated for weeks, pulpy, pink, tasteless. Sam's options were dire. Hospital food courts. Pre made sushi, subway sandwiches, burgers, fast food chinese. No wonder people get sick. Three hours to kill, nowhere to go since someone just stole his phone and the work he was planning to finish is now a moot point. Christ, what a day. Things are fabulous, things are ridiculous. It's like weather in Ireland, wait five minutes and it changes. Sam has no issue with hospitals, having grown up in them. Both parents were surgeons in teaching hospitals so many hours of his childhood were spent in lounges, waiting areas, exam rooms with books and toys and medical equipment at his disposal. Being on the other side of things is quite a shift. He never thought about hereditary disease or being prone to similar issues as his father but age catches up to you. DNA, all that stuff you have no control over. The doctor was running behind. Far enough behind that Sam thought he'd grab some lunch, work on his writing and catch up with emails. Then he realized his phone was gone. Six weeks after he bought it. It's been one of those years. Up then down then sideways then roundabout. he's still here, for now. He'll know more after the next round of tests but they're being cagey. From Sam's experience, that's never a good sign. Doctor's get anxious, unless they've no bedside manner, which is often. Bad news is never easy. He watched his parents deal out some of the worst news imaginable and witnessed every reaction you could think of, from rage to sorrow to shock and inappropriate laughter. This last year has been the hardest of his life and ironically, Sam's glad his parents aren't here to see him through this because he'd hate more than anything to put them through this. Doctors make terrible patients and even worse bystanders to patients. Two more hours to kill. Maybe a falafel is a better choice. Lettuce free.

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