I spent the morning with mum at the hospital. In preparation for her radiotherapy treatment next Friday, she was back to do another MRI and CT scan. This is to allow the therapist to plan how the beams should be directed at the tumour.
Though lots of efforts have been made to make the hospital look nice and cheery, you can't deny the fact that it isn't the happiest place to be at. It's sad to see patients being pushed about in wheelchairs or stretcher-beds. Any person dressed in hospital gown looks vulnerable and sick.
I always spend my hours in the waiting room people watching and face-matching. I notice that mostly the daughters bring their mother for treatment while men tend to accompany their father. It's also interesting to see how they look like a carbon-copy of their parents, albeit a younger version. Sitting there, I often wonder who would push me around in a wheelchair when I become old and weak. See, the hospital is such a depressing place.
On a happier note, CH is celebrating my birthday tonight. We’re having a big night out! I wonder what surprises he has in store….