hospital impatience

in the hallowed hallways of hospitals, patients and visitors pace alike, awaiting reunions or rehabilitation.

silently sliding along labyrinthine corridors, at my even speed, i'm either lapped by swift staff in scrubs, or i encounter gown-clad shadows shuffling at a snail's pace. television medical dramas can't properly capture this atmosphere, an intense assault on the senses. fluorescent lights, antiseptic scents, monitors and moans, sterile air - it leaves me feeling queasy.

in my most recent rare hospital appearance, to visit my fiancee post-op, i fought off nausea while teetering at her bedside. with a room full of infirm inpatients, i struggled not to pull focus; how embarrassing, the fallout from fainting. more disappointing would be my total lack of support for her more harrowing ordeal. my vision blurred, voices reverberated hollowly, and i managed to hobble out into fresh air.

but the bottom really dropped out when she recounted her muscular reaction under anesthesia. during a tense couple of minutes, she struggled to catch her breath. this grave scenario left her fearing that feeling in the future, and it reinforced how much i feared if she left me.