“I am sorry.  I know you are trying to help but my head views you as an enemy although I keep reminding it that you are on our team”  I muttered in exasperation while glaring at the fear seated on her head   

“it is totally okay; I get it” the nurse brushes aside my apologies with a smile while I mentally kicked myself

I was really trying.  Trust me I am.  Unfortunately, my head adopts a combat stance once my feet enters a hospital – a residue from my early teen years when I attempted a vacation Job in a hospital.

Usually I would try to freeze the fear out, I mean appeal to its reasoning that irrespective of which attacker brought us here, the humans here are our friends not enemies. Then robot my way through. 

Nonetheless, my fear would still traipse through the halls chalking everyone up as an enemy. And I am almost always too scared to do anything to this hulk following me through hospital corridors. 

Today was quite worse.  Different staff have poked me repeatedly yet could not cannulate. They wanted to get in a contrast dye for the CT Scan.  I have even offered the other arm which I was not meant to.  By now all I wanted to do was race out of here into the safety outside. 

Meanwhile, these medics; all of them who work here; what other material outside of dust did God use in making them? how on God’s own earth do they manage to remain this calm under such boiling point pressure of a hospital?  How do they keep it all together with most of them smiling?

You will never convince me in this lifetime  that medics are paid enough.  Alright, let us break it down; what part of their job are you compensating them for?  The succour?  The smiles?  The back rubs?  Their resilience?  competence? Humaneness? Their habituation of our bodily secretions?

A belief I have held for years which got strengthened during my recent cancer battle is that the medical profession remains one of the few invaluable Trades you can never put a price on.