I was told to be here at 5:00. When we arrived in the waiting room
there was barely room to sit together. The greeter asked my name.
"Hutchinson" I responded. It's a military thing. You don't give your
first name. Maybe there's too much familiarity in knowing. The greeter
was confused why I was there so early. Half an hour later, I'm still
wondering. The only time my butt has left this chair since sitting down
was to stand in line with all the other prisoners to get my government-issued
gown, robe, and booties. The woman issuing the hospital ensembles looks you
up and down before announcing "LARGE" loud enough for the entire waiting room
to hear. Excuse me...I wear medium, I thought.
Can you really blame a girl for being cranky for having to get out of bed at up 4:15, skip coffee AND be handed oversized pjs?
Hang in there - military hospitals may not be long on bedside manner (and they don't "do" high maintenance), but we know you'll get great care. What's important now is getting you better.
ReplyDeleteMaybe she thought you looked like the type of girl who wants her butt COVERED with the large gown. Prayers <3
ReplyDeleteSinging the Mi Shebeirach for you. Sending all my good vibes your way, and thinking of you. Mom has asked if there is any word yet, so she is thinking of you too. Our family is sending our love and prayers. I am a large, not you!
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