The Hospital Part 1

“A doctor! Please!” I shouted with Laura in my arms.

People looked at me, startled, especially the woman at reception.

Nurses appeared and brought a stretcher.

They helped me place her gently on it.

“I’m going to ask you to stay here, sir,” the large man said.

“Please, let me go with her,” I begged desperately.

The man held me back and didn’t let me pass. It felt like I was trying to push against a wall.

“Sir, please, let us do our job,” the man said, his voice calm and rational.

I gave up.

My last image of her was of her being taken away down a long corridor.

I heard a gentle voice from my left side.

“Do you know her?” the receptionist asked.

“Sorry?” I hadn’t understood properly.

She repeated the question.

I thought for a moment. It was as if the information was very far away, and I had to make an effort to reach it.

“Yes, we work together,” I answered, moving closer to the counter.

“I see,” she answered while typing some things on the computer. “Do you know any relatives of hers?”

I don’t know anyone from her family, I thought, with a little sadness and guilt.

“No.”

“We’ll have to ask her later, then.”

I looked from one side to the other and pressed my lips together before speaking, afraid of the answer.

“When will I be able to see her?”

“We’ll let you know. For now, I’ll ask you to wait on those benches.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

Without many options.

I sat in one of the empty chairs.

The hospital had white paint with green details throughout its structure. There was a large television, but the content was completely boring.

It looks like it changed a lot since the last time I was here. Even the layout seems different.

That calmed me a little.

An old man was in the same row as me, wearing all brown. He coughed from time to time in a uniform rhythm. I even started counting the seconds.

Watch, on three he’ll cough again. Three, two, one…

And then he coughed.

The chair started to become uncomfortable. No matter the position, it seemed like a different part of me hurt.

I decided to pay attention to the television.

Why do they put something so boring on? Why can’t it be a movie or something cooler?

I thought again.

Actually, I just got unlucky. In other places, they probably put on something more interesting.

Paying attention to the television felt like all my intellect was going away.

If I opened my mouth, I was sure I would start drooling.

“Mr. Eugênio, room four,” the woman called.

The old man who was coughing stood up and slowly, using a cane, went toward the “infinite” corridor.

I slowly watched him disappear.

It was taking hours. I started getting worried.

People appeared and disappeared.

Some women with children, some elderly people. There were few men my age. Which made me stand out.

The atmosphere seemed innocent.

This should be a space to take care of sick people.

A good place.

A happy place.

But, in truth, this place was miserable.

Waiting was torture, and if you were sick, even worse. You had to suffer for hours until being seen.

I don’t want to be here for one more second.

The double doors I had entered through were shining, as if inviting me to leave.

It’s just the sun, I thought, trying to convince myself.

Outside was so bright and colorful, while inside the hospital, with its white and faded green colors, everything looked dead.

How much longer am I going to have to wait?

I started tapping my foot.

Is she okay?

No one was watching the corridors.

Instead of seeing her, I could see the doctor. Then he could tell me how her situation is.

I stood up and went to the corridor. Because of my interaction from before, I could swear someone would stop me. I looked around, and it seemed like no one cared. Even the receptionist was neutral, showing no reaction.

I thought only staff could enter.

I shrugged.

Looks like the new management is pretty careless. And I had hopes when I saw that big guy.

***

For someone who isn’t used to it, the hospital seemed like a maze.

Almost by instinct, I stopped in front of one of the doors.

I’m sure it’s this one.

I knocked twice.

“Who is it?” a calm voice asked.

I opened the door slowly.

The room seemed too cramped.

Papers scattered on top of a desk and several medicine bottles with different labels. A strong smell of old coffee and alcohol.

The doctor was sitting behind the desk, typing on the computer.

He was thin, like someone who hadn’t slept much in many years. He had messy gray hair, a short unshaven beard, and deep dark circles under his eyes.

The white coat was wrinkled, as if he had spent days in a row inside the hospital.

His expression was too neutral. He didn’t even look away when I entered.

“Sorry to bother you. I brought my friend. She was feeling sick.”

He continued typing.

“I know. Laura.”

If he knows, things get easier. I smiled lightly.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“We’re running some tests at the moment.”

He continued typing.

“And when will they be ready?”

“Soon.”

That dry answer was getting to me.

He could at least look at my face.

“And do you have any idea what she has?” I asked, almost like a challenge.

He shrugged.

“Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

I clenched my fists. Something was boiling inside me.

“Don’t give me that! You don’t know what she has! Isn’t it easier to say you don’t know?”

The old man laughed lightly.

“And do you know? Who are you? You’re not even a doctor.”

“I used to be a doctor!”

He smiled.

“So you gave up.”

“I…”

I heard a knock on the door, followed by the sound of it opening.

“Mr. Gabriel?” a nurse asked.

“Yes?”

“You can see Laura.”

I looked at the doctor’s face, and he kept ignoring me.

I grabbed one of the bottles without thinking.

“I’ll take the medication to her.”

“All right. Do whatever you want…” he answered coldly.