Recycled air, the smell of sleep and disinfectant.

Back to the hospital again today. Fasting before an operation is no fun, eating a light breakfast at 7am felt like the last supper knowing that I wouldn't be ale to have even a glass of water until sometime after three. Dad escorted me to the hospital at 11, as my appointment was at 12, as no-one else in this house is capable of getting up before mid afternoon. It's a shame we arrived fifteen minutes early, as the procedure didn't start until three and a half hours later. Luckily I brought my iPod and found the remote for the chair, but the father didn't look too happy to be there. I creeps a few nurses out with my ears on the way down to the operating theater. The place didn't seem as organized as I always imagined hospitals to be. I don't think I saw the same doctor or nurse twice, an I din't even get counted to sleep.I just remember one guy saying "this is going to prick a bit", sticking a drip in my hand then a syringe into the drip. A funny feeling ran up my arm REAL slow, and remember thinking "when the hell am I going to fall sleep?". I was laying there consciously for at least five minutes. Waking up to a massive tube covered in blood being pulled out of your throat isn't the most pleasant experience either. There were three sets of beeps going in that room, so I decided to try and make mine stop. No-one noticed. Even after the third time. I eventually got wheeled back up to cubicle 419 at round five o'clock. My Dad was sitting there waiting for me with a packet of oreo's. The nurse offered me something to eat or drink, an I politely refused. She then tried to bribe me with jelly and ice cream. I told her I couldn't eat them, so she grabbed me some apple juice and an icy pole. I then had to explain to the next nurse why I wouldn't eat any of the sandwiches. Five minutes down the track I heard them bitching about me in the corridor outside my door. I have a broken nose, I'm not deaf.