To finish up the March break I
was admitted chose to take a retreat to the luxurious and grande General Hospital Hotel. It is an older establishment, rocking an industrial austere decor. The kind of look that only a big old building can pull off well.
waiting room lobby was a busy place. Everyone wanted to get a room. Some of the other patients guests included:
- Someone so well regarded in society that he required constant police protection. I didn’t get a good look but I bet he was a
- A young woman who gave us an impromptu performance of moaning and groaning (and groaning and moaning) for hours (and hours). It was
exhaustingexhilarating. Even the nursesconcierge were rolling their eyesclapping in appreciation.
Not everyone was successful in securing a room. After offering an open vein and my first born I was granted a private room. With an ensuite even!
doctors hotel staff are an elusive group of young whippersnappers. But when I did see them, they were very thorough, asking all the same questions that they asked the day before. I learned quickly not to ask them any questions, it makes them disappear. A magic performance for my amusement, I’m sure.
The morning wake up call was a rectal swab. I admit to being surprised by this, especially after requesting a sleep in. But it was quickly followed by a
lukewarm paper cup of coffee and bowl of gruel porridge, and all was forgiven.
Speaking of meals – what a treat for me to have meals delivered! And they really stretched my nutritional boundaries. I don’t even know what kind of fruit a sodium benzoate is. Does anyone know where it grows?
relieved sorry when my time at the General Hospital Hotel was over. But all good things must end. And there really is no place quite like home.
P.S. Fear not friends, my 2 nights at the hospital were precautionary. I am on the mend and feeling much improved.