The Journey Onwards

I dont know why hospitals cannot be more cheerful. It is as if their primary function is to make you 'feel' like a patient. Even if you are not apprehensive, the pale, spotless walls and edge of metal will fill you with dread and gloom.

In the distance I could hear faint murmurs. I was sepearted from those human decibels by thick walls and a glass door. All around me were technological wonders. Machines which blipped and blopped to tell the doctors whether you would live or not. Ironical isnt it? That something so inhuman as a machine, actually saves lives? I sat there motionless. My legs stretched on teh gynaecolical table.

Any minute now, I would have ten guys [ok I exaggerated, five males], albeit very qualified doctors, prying and prodding my very private parts. Yet, it by no means could be treated as violation, because I consented to let them do so. It was the only way out, I was told. I could either stick to my rather traditional beliefs of womanhood or choose to ease out the pain. I chose to ease the pain.

Did the pain really ease?

Not really. But I was told they finally figured out what was causing the pain. Voila! Could we now fix it? I might look all grown up, but you know deep within I am just a child. I might keep a calm face and pretend to understand those big words you hurl across at each other, occassionally at me, but inside, what I do not understand makes me quiver. The more I do not understand, the more I panic.

Am I too small to want to run home and be engulfed in the arms of my mommy? I so wish, like the olden days she could simply hug me and say 'its going to be ok' and I would deep down somehow know she was right...