When I was awake, I found myself in a hospital bed. On the table were wilted flowers and the warm summer wind blew against the closed windows. Next to me I took low moan that sounded like not a female person. There was a knock at the door and a grotto ugly, fat old nurse entered. "Breakfast and bedpan changing," she said harshly as she introduced me to a disgusting breakfast and a glass of orange juice on the scruffy side table. "Shit," I said reflexively. "Have you slept at last," she asked. "On shit in bed, I just do not feel, so you just hold your sphincter closed!" However, she added quickly added without a previous response to be seen.
I looked around the room. I lay on the bed to the window next to me, an approximately 50 year old man in a kind of vegetative state and the wall side, a grandfather who groan and moan alternated. Was that the intensive care unit or the death chamber?
Anyway, I had too many zombie movies watched in my childhood to it with full consciousness for a moment longer to endure in this room.
I tried to go up, which was hard but after a while, finally succeeded. "Lie down again just to go," I snapped at my sister. "The doctor comes to the same ward. I noticed my casted arm and the rail right around my leg. "You can not run away anyway!"
had to be back in one of these nightmares, I thought. But where was Gandalf? Yesterday he was still there. The nurse left the room and I stared at her, first on large, crater-shaped rear panel and then closed the door. Long. Very long. Three hours, roughly. Then came the doctor.
He: Good morning, Mr. Pfitzer, nice to see you in awareness.
I: Gandalf?
He: Gandalf? If you want to watch television, Mr. Pfitzer, the 15 € per day will cost extra.
Me: When can I get out?
He: Oh, what the terms, I have good news for you. Even after tomorrow you will be dismissed.
I: First day after tomorrow?
He: Yes, and it's not that I dismiss you for medical reasons. Frankly, we need your bed.
Me: You can now already have.
He: A little bit we have to watch even more. A broken leg, two broken arms and a sprained shoulder, one can not take it lightly. Do you understand the wit?
Me: No, I'm also interested precious little. You have just said that I was totally crippled, and shall not in two days out of here! Help!
He: crying quietly, Mr. Pfitzer. Her two roommates hear anything anyway. Not true, Mr. Bogner? Mr. Bogner? Oh, can come there again, I think we have a medical emergency.
Me: Yes, but not the exploding Opi there but me. Syringes fit me, give me drugs. The main thing I get out of here.
He: Look, Mr. Pfitzer. Are you insured patient, it would be best, they do not even be here. But a minimum level of treatment is unfortunately required by law.
Me: You're the boss doctor or?
He: Me? I'm the assistant doctor.
Me: What? He
. What do you think?
Me: I thought so far, the health care reform is yet to come. But obviously I was wrong.
He: I'm already over the time, we'll see you tomorrow.
Me: Could I get something to read?
He: Sure. Get it at the kiosk below. Ha, you have learned how to use it?
I: And what do I do if scraping the grandpa?
It: Go easy with the emergency call button, the nurse. But remember: Abuse costs 50 €.
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