The Hatred and The Hospital

I can't stand airports. In fact, I'm pretty close to hating them. The only reason why I abstain from hating them is because, let's face it, hate is an extremely strong emotion. Which is why I save that emotion for the newest object of my loathing: hospitals.

I. Hate. Hospitals.

I never thought I could dislike a building more than airports, but hospitals take the cake (side note: what does that phrase even mean? Take the cake? Who thought that one up and why don't I have any cake now that I'm thinking of it so much??). If you think about it, at least airports have carpeted floors; there's nothing comforting about the cold, tile floors in hospitals. As many renovations and calming colors the Cape Cod Hospital utilizes to make their patients feel at ease, there is nothing easing about seeing a loved one with tubes attached all over their bodies and the steady beeping and compressing of various machines.

My Mama went through major surgery on Monday and as I sat at her bedside between jobs on Monday afternoon, no amount of telling myself that she would be fine could quell the foreboding in my spirit. She is fine. But, what if someday she's not? Sitting there, holding her hand, watching her fade in and out of cognizance, scared me. I remember having nightmares as a child of my parents dying and becoming an orphan and I used to tell my mom that I never wanted her to die. But, what child hasn't gone through the trauma of this fear, unfounded though it may be? It seems as though it is human nature to automatically assume the worst case scenario. However, now that I'm getting older and, consequentially, my parents are getting older as well, will the experience of keeping vigil by a sick bed become more and more common?

My parents aren't that old. I used to think anyone over 50 was ancient, but the older I get, the more middle aged 50 becomes. Still, when the realization hits you that your parents can't do half the things they used to be able to do 10 years ago, it's a sobering experience.

One thing is for sure, any disagreements or failures to see eye-to-eye with my mother all seems so unimportant now.