The hospital is not

A jail where they lock you up and throw away the key

A place where you have no rights

A place where you are restrained or medicated so heavily you can hardly speak

A place that makes you talk about everything all the time

A holding cell

A place where people scream and yell and moan all day

A place where they fix you

A place where once you go you’re cured and can then get out and be completely better

A magic cure

What the hospital is according to my daughter is a place where she learned how to talk. A place where she learned how to open up about her feelings and herself instead of bottling it all up until it erupts like Mt. Vesuvius. It is a place that begins the process that is really a lifelong journey. It is a place to feel not so alone in your illness.

It is not perfect by any means, but it’s a start.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: