It's 6:15 on a Saturday afternoon and I'm stood in a hospital corridor about to visit my gran in hospital. Her broken leg has landed her with a long stay here and then she will spend weeks in a home, temporarily. I am 15 minutes early for visiting it seems. I'm told she has had enough of being here and mostly confined to a bed.
I feel sorry for her. I'd hate it too.
I hope my present of a book to read will give her some escape, at least for her mind.
These corridors are creepy. It feels like its a place which is much closer to death.
It's a rubbish place to even visit, let alone be confined to.
The lobby is starting to fill up with visitors now and I'm glad I've come. It makes me appreciate being: healthy, free to come and go, single, young/middle aged. I've everything to be thankful for. I'm blessed. I guess it takes a change of perspective to see things clearer.
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