Portraits

Finally here at 100!

I met an accident last week and was confined in a hospital. It was the first time I was confined. I might have before but I must have been a small kid then. Still, I couldn’t remember the last time.

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I don’t like hospitals.They’re lonely. And to spend the night alone in one didn’t help. I find it, however, fascinating watching people arrive at the ER asking to fix themselves just as I was. It’s in hospitals where our mortality seems so real we just have to accept it. I also learned that my body is like a machine that doctors can actually try to fix. And for all that I’ve seen in the hours watching people come and go, hospitals seem to be a place of grief. Not necessarily death. Sadness maybe. Or fear. Somewhere in the same building, babies are born. That must have been the happiest corner of the hospital. But other than that, it’s people with broken bones, failing hearts, wounded bodies, weakened lungs and livers, and maybe people walking with broken souls too.