Return to hospital

Return to hospital

My colleague, the same one who told me to stay home and rest last week, urged me to go, but I have been very resistant. I just dread, dread hospitals.

But there comes a time when you must face what you dread most. I just didn't think that twice in two months, I'd have to return somewhere where I've had nightmares about, and occassionally still have dreams about even till this day, almost two years after mum died. 

My colleague got out a sheet of paper with information about the walk in clinique associated with the Montreal Jewish Hospital. I'm no stranger to the hospital... Back in the day when I was volunteering i would i'd once a week. My bereavement group sessions took place there. I'd just not think I'd one day have to go there myself...

At my colleague's urging I decided to bit the pain and pride and call the hospital. I was told I could go straight away. I hung up the phone and inadvertently felt tears in my eyes. I was crying. 

Why? Is it fear? Is it dread? Is it fear that something terrible will be discovered (and if so, isn't it better early then never)? Is it fear that I'd have to spend time at the hospital and not habe anyone come see me or take care of me if something is seriously wrong? 

It's not fear of dying that made me cry. It's the fear of facing demons and seeing the sick. It's fear of seeing and feeling overwhelmed by compassion, feeling overwhelmed by the possible question of "Could I have done more?" For mum? For dad? For my friends Carmen and Tehwei?

 

The chest pain is really unbearable. I feel it when I move, I feel it when I just try to get up from lying down... I feel it just when I breathe a little bit harder, or talk a little bit louder. I felt it badly as I walked up the hill trying to get to the office. I was so out of breath, panting so heavily and aching badly...

I have to go in now. I have to no matter what.