How could it of gotten any worse? It was around about 5 am and I was sitting in the backseat of my dad’s car, shivering, my parents were shouting at each other because they had no clue what to do while I sat being sick everywhere. I’m not so sure how long it took to get to Sick Kids as all I could really focus on was the burning of my throat and the endless cold, the slightest bit of wind making it 100x worse, all I could see in the car was the blur of lights in the night as the car rushed past. Being ill as I was didn’t exactly mean they helped me first, I sat for a good 2 hours in the waiting room, idly watched a woman in blue do paperwork, every now and then she looked up to see if I was okay. It was pristine with speckled floors and children’s
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As they always do. They prodded me with needles, even though they were fully trained doctors and nurses they didn’t manage to take my blood with much success. 6 times. That’s how many tries it took, I’m not a very squeamish person but really? To make them even more uncomfortable I looked at them dead in the eyes as if to say ‘hurry up’ and of course, make them feel extremely bad for stabbing my arm. The doctors tried to make small talk about school but how could I care with what I was going through, they need to know that making small talk doesn’t subside the awkwardness or make me feel better. Eventually they made the decision to put me in the …show more content…
My room was pretty big, it was very open with the sun streaming in reminding me that I couldn’t leave, I had a single bed that was in the middle of room surrounded by random futuristic equipment that beeped every time something happened. An extra bed was wheeled in for my mum but it’s not like she stayed with me, she had things to do and staying with me wasn’t one of them, the isolation really got to me, it felt like I was being tortured in a white room or something, the only piece artwork in my room was a silhouette of a girl on the swings and it just reminded me how she’s alone and so am I. For the first couple of days it seemed like a holiday, chilling in my room, procrastinating and really just doing whatever but after the first week I ran out of things to do, the laziness also had kicked in, simple tasks like walking around was effort so I kept it to a minimum, it did no good to my joints. Doctors came in more regularly, there were cliques of them, the main doctor was a grumpy guy that was in his late 30’s, every time he came in, a flock of med students surrounded me, staring with their beady eyes and quickly jotting down anything he said. I really didn’t like him, once I woke up at 2am to him taking my blood, he didn’t even get the vein so he got blood on my bed, to me he was the vampire doctor, he made up any excuses to take my blood. Just imagine waking up to that. The nurses were much better, I realized that nobody gives them credit, they
As they always do. They prodded me with needles, even though they were fully trained doctors and nurses they didn’t manage to take my blood with much success. 6 times. That’s how many tries it took, I’m not a very squeamish person but really? To make them even more uncomfortable I looked at them dead in the eyes as if to say ‘hurry up’ and of course, make them feel extremely bad for stabbing my arm. The doctors tried to make small talk about school but how could I care with what I was going through, they need to know that making small talk doesn’t subside the awkwardness or make me feel better. Eventually they made the decision to put me in the …show more content…
My room was pretty big, it was very open with the sun streaming in reminding me that I couldn’t leave, I had a single bed that was in the middle of room surrounded by random futuristic equipment that beeped every time something happened. An extra bed was wheeled in for my mum but it’s not like she stayed with me, she had things to do and staying with me wasn’t one of them, the isolation really got to me, it felt like I was being tortured in a white room or something, the only piece artwork in my room was a silhouette of a girl on the swings and it just reminded me how she’s alone and so am I. For the first couple of days it seemed like a holiday, chilling in my room, procrastinating and really just doing whatever but after the first week I ran out of things to do, the laziness also had kicked in, simple tasks like walking around was effort so I kept it to a minimum, it did no good to my joints. Doctors came in more regularly, there were cliques of them, the main doctor was a grumpy guy that was in his late 30’s, every time he came in, a flock of med students surrounded me, staring with their beady eyes and quickly jotting down anything he said. I really didn’t like him, once I woke up at 2am to him taking my blood, he didn’t even get the vein so he got blood on my bed, to me he was the vampire doctor, he made up any excuses to take my blood. Just imagine waking up to that. The nurses were much better, I realized that nobody gives them credit, they