Musings

I was pondering the concept of the hospital. It's an interesting thing. It's like a city, almost self sufficient, with places to park, places to sleep (patients in beds and visitors in chairs in various waiting rooms), places to eat, televisions, newspapers, toilets, trashcans, sinks, showers even. People are born there, people die there.

It would be possible to actually live in a hospital. That would make an interesting book idea in the same vein as that film with Tom Hanks about the bloke who lived in the airport. It might even be possible to live in one undetected for awhile. You could move from waiting room to waiting room, even visit patients. I'm sure there are folks there who have no one to visit them and that would actually be nice if they had someone drop in. Even a nutjob who lived in a hospital? OK, maybe not.

I've discovered that a lot of people in that area have had experience with Wake Forrest Baptist Medical Centre. Kimberly's dad had treatments there, Lawyer P spent time there as well, and I've spoken to several people who have had loved ones in that hospital's ICUs.

It's also home of Brenner Children's Hospital.

Children's hospital.

You know, that should be a phrase unknown in our language. If there was any planning to the universe that would be something that just did not exist: children would never have to be in hospital.

Going in yesterday I parked in an unfamiliar place (owing to how late I had arrived), right at the top of the parking garage. When I paused by the door - I was on the windswept roof, by the helipad where Dad was brought in, and it was freezing - to answer my phone, I saw a family come out the patient pick-up door. It was a father carrying his child, a little girl the same build and size as my Bitty Girl (about two years old). She had her head down and was lying limply against his shoulder. The biting wind blew her blanket off and I saw that she had on a tiny hospital gown over her pajama bottoms and the tell-tale bandage on the back of her hand where an IV had been removed.

My heart just broke.

I chokingly said goodby to my caller and fled into the building.

What a horrible thing. I just can't imagine. No one should ever have to see their child in hospital, no child should have to go through that. Ever since Dad had his accident, I have been consumed with fear that something will happen to my children. I know that it makes no sense and I also know that I worried constantly about this before Dad's accident, but I'm obsessed now. I lie awake at night and fret even though I know they're all downstairs safely asleep. I'm positively terrified to put them in the van today to go to the doctor.

I suppose this is all normal but I feel paranoid, like the universe is out to collect a debt and my family hasn't paid everything that's due.