08th of January, 2021.

               I am probably the first person to arrive at the hospital, which is huge and, of course, a bloody labyrinth. In my room there are four beds: one is already taken by an old man, who could not speak English. I wait the whole day, I talk with many different doctors and anesthetists, to only go to the operation theater around 15:00!
              When I finally come back to my senses, there is a guy beside my bed, who I do not know if is a nurse or a doctor, but I do know he is a beginner because he is so nervous and I am sure he did something not quite right because after a few minutes of the medication he gave me, I throw up.
              Back to the room, I ask the nurse what time it is and she answers that it is almost 19:00! What? Before the surgery, everybody was saying that the procedure would take about one hour and a half. But mine it took about 4 hours? Fuck! Why? What happened? Nobody tells me shit! It was like after the surgery all the doctors and nurses who knew about it disappeared! And to make it worse, I missed dinner so all they gave me to eat, AFTER A WHOLE F*&#@%$ DAY WITHOUT EATING ONE SEED, it is two toasts and tea. Whaaaat? When new nurses come to check on me a bit later, I tell them I am starving here can you get me some food? So they say yeah, yeah, what ever you want. Maybe a f*&#@%$ dinner because I just got out of surgery? But they are nice so I just get some fruits and cereal and something else I cannot remember.
              When I call T., we decide because it is quite late, it is better if I spend the night at the hospital. Also a suggestion from the hospital team because they have to keep an eye on me. Uhum… It is hard to sleep and during the night they come a few times to check if I am alive?
              Early morning we have breakfast and then I take my belly out of misery! I get cereal twice, plus toasts and tea. Yummy! Although it is very hard to spread the butter and jam on it.
              Talking with T. she asks me if I can take the bus back home. What? Yeah. I though it is a bit cruel but I say yes. Maybe I am being a bit to sissy and taking a bus crossing cities in the next morning of a wrist surgery is not so bad. Anyway, I do have to get many directions and timetable of the bus (by the way I am using T.’s mother tablet for the call and stuff) so I try to do it quickly. Then I have to get dressed (and of course nobody comes to offer help, which makes everything much easier and faster – sarcasm) and I run downstairs, through the labyrinth, only to get at the gate when the bus is leaving. I run! I said I run and try to get it, but it is gone.
              I sit and I cry a lot, feeling like shit for that because the next bus it will take over one hour to come. How stupid! Why was I crying? What a hell could I have done? I had to do everything by myself, just after a surgery, and I felt bad about it? So stupid! Never again! So I call T. again and explain to her what happened.

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