I’ve decided I don’t like hospitals.
The dry sterile smell, the hard fluorescent lights reflecting off the off white tiled lino floors and the ominous persistent hum of machinery in the background. Hospitals make me feel like I am in a maze of corridors that lead into unknown scary places.
My mum is recovering in hospital from surgery that removed some potentially cancerous cells. It was a needed preventative procedure so she won’t develop the cancer, so she will get better but its still hard to see your own mother laying in bed sick as she’s coming out of the anaesthetic.
Its strange, because though I know that life is short there’s something about being in a hospital with a loved one who isn’t saved that brings about a reality of eternity. There is an eternity, its real.
Maybe I feel this way because hospitals highlight the frailty of our humanity. In hospital we are physically weak, we need help and we need to rely on nurses, doctors and machines to help us with even our basic needs like breathing. We are not as invincible as we often think. Our bodies are limited. And those cigarettes will eventually kill you. The bible says our lives are like a vapour in the wind. One day all of us will have to meet our Maker.
I feel helpless in a hospital.
There was nothing I could do to make my mum feel better or relieve the pain. All I could do is sit there, watch her and pray. Pray for a quick recovery and pray for her salvation.