Bossy knows she’s going to stand nearly alone on this one — leg surgery pun not intended — but Bossy just loves hospitals in general. Bossy’s dad is a cardiologist — and growing up, Bossy often accompanied him to work, where she would kibitz with the elderly patients in the waiting room, ride the elevator to the Labor & Delivery floor so she could listen for screams, and frequent the hospital cafeteria where she’d pile her plate high with carbs such as turkey tetrazzini, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese. Yes, all at once.
Hanging around a hospital, for Bossy, was akin to stocking the shelves of the Corner Store your parents ran.
Bossy likes the hustle and bustle of the nurses and the chatter of the overhead paging system and even, yes, the sterile smell. A hospital is like its own city, a microcosm, and it’s one of the few situations where Bossy surrenders control. Bossy has experienced some sadness in the hospital, but it is far outweighed by the miracles she’s seen at work there.
But anyway. Bossy was in the hospital yesterday for her vascular surgery, and after she passed time in the recovery room, Bossy was pushed into a hospital room while the stubborn general anesthetic wore off, and Bossy fell in and out of sleep for hours while watching nothing in particular on the wall-mounted TV.
It felt like a spa. Which maybe doesn’t say much about Bossy’s everyday life.