I am seated in the lounge at Gate no 6 in Apollo Hospital. The event of 2010 when Monica was seriously ill were getting refreshed in memories. The odor mixed with the air from air-conditioners lacked any freshness, patients being carried around in wheel chairs, the rush at the OPD and the gloomy environs at the waiting lobby in IPD (In-patient Department). The doors of two lifts openend and closed with no end to the job of carrying patients.
Few things never change when you are at hospital. Its more unlikely to see people smiling, walking straight, cheering and chatting recklessly. We are more likely to see patients being moved around in stretchers, doctors in white coats with stethoscope around their necks and family members lost in worries even when they are munching on some snacks or sipping coffee at the food outlets in motionless state with only jaws moving.
I get to meet an elderly lady who is bed-ridden for 9 months but she is not ready to consider amuptation of her one of her leg. The husband on the attendant bed adjacent to her took turns to stare at the TV or his mobile phone. He must be spending his days for months like this.
My day at the hospital ended on a happy note and with pledge to take best possible care of my and my families health.