Poem: Hospital Fever
You walk in those automatic doors,
Which always makes a squeak when they open.
You're in a medical world full of lifts and jolly pictures to keep your hopes up.
It is all just too much.
It feels like a lifetime to get up to the area where your relative is in.
Then you go through some more automatic doors and you see the hand wash, which means that you are near.
You are near to your beloved relative attached to all sorts of different tubes.
You feel like your relatives energy is being sucked out. Like it's being fed to another human to make them, even stronger.
It's all a bundle of mayhem in your changed life of. A mourner thinking, is your relative going to survive?
But when the nurses say it's time to go out of this place, all of the weight of anxiety gets off your chest and you are free.
Free to have a normal life.
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