i hate it.
I hate hospitals.
I hate seeing grandma lying there in her bed... oxygen mask covering her face, tubes sticking into her veins.
I hate seeing her being so frail and weak... Skin hanging loosely on her stick-like arms. Yet, she complains that her hands are swollen. They look and feel tiny in mine.
I want to cry. Yet, i can't. I smile, instead. Trying to brighten up the atmosphere. Trying to bring a smile to grandma's face. Aren't smiles supposed to be infectious? It doesn't seem to work when i most want it to. Damn, why can't things go my way, for once???!!!
She's still as concerned as ever about us. Asking me and mum if we've had dinner, who cooked dinner for us, whether sis had recovered from her fever, etc. We moved on to lighter topics... her favourite tv serial. The development of the plot, so far.
Grandma was propped up in her bed. I asked her if she wanted to lower the bed down. She didn't want to. But wouldn't her neck feel tired? Sitting up so high? She said, yes. Yet she doesn't want me to lower it down.
Hospitals. I hate them. They remind me of sickness, of death.
They remind me of the fragility of life.
I hate seeing grandma lying there in her bed... oxygen mask covering her face, tubes sticking into her veins.
I hate seeing her being so frail and weak... Skin hanging loosely on her stick-like arms. Yet, she complains that her hands are swollen. They look and feel tiny in mine.
I want to cry. Yet, i can't. I smile, instead. Trying to brighten up the atmosphere. Trying to bring a smile to grandma's face. Aren't smiles supposed to be infectious? It doesn't seem to work when i most want it to. Damn, why can't things go my way, for once???!!!
She's still as concerned as ever about us. Asking me and mum if we've had dinner, who cooked dinner for us, whether sis had recovered from her fever, etc. We moved on to lighter topics... her favourite tv serial. The development of the plot, so far.
Grandma was propped up in her bed. I asked her if she wanted to lower the bed down. She didn't want to. But wouldn't her neck feel tired? Sitting up so high? She said, yes. Yet she doesn't want me to lower it down.
Hospitals. I hate them. They remind me of sickness, of death.
They remind me of the fragility of life.
posted by Hwee Ping at 10:05 PM
5 Comments:
Hate hospitals? That makes two of us. Never liked hospitals myself, and esp. hated ambulances.
Yeah neither do I like it. I hope for your Grandma to be well. And don't ever lose that smile. :)
Eme
ya... thanks. :)
hey twin.. i hope your gran gets well really really soon.
i know how that feels to watch a loved one lying in that bed.
*hugs* and i miss you
miss you too,twin... are we meeting up soon? angela's birthday?
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