Cramped. Dominated by a bed. A bedside table, comfortable chairs in the corner. Wall colors designed to be restful but really come off as akin to a decorators choices for a funeral home. A desperate attempt to look like someone's bedroom but lacking personality. Cold, institutional tile floor. A Window that looks out on neighboring roofs, no real view. Private bath that can't conceal its functionality. Handicap railing on toilet and shower. A large heavy door engineered to open quietly and won't slam. Sterile white Sheets with a pale blue blanket. Fluorescent light for the whole room that was never completely dark. An IV pole with a digital monitoring system that tends to beep every time you move. It Gets clogged easy. Beeps incessantly when a new bag is needed.
Your favorite place. (Please note the sarcasm)
The place you refused to give birth in. The place you spent 3 months in when you where 12 because of a car accident that left you with fatal injuries. God. The car accident. Oh god. The hospital. You're in the fucking hospital.
