Week Six

I sit in this room and wait listening to people pass by the door some talking in low tones while some just move along trying to move as fast as they can to reach the room they are seeking. This room I sit in has bleak white walls with no pictures to even attempt to cheer up the occupants. A corkboard hangs on one wall with a sheet of paper held to it with a red pushpin asking patients to rate their pain. I think in a room this uninviting any ones pain would increase. The bed sits in the middle of the room covered in white sheets and a white blanket. Beside the bed sits a table that holds a few possessions that my mother has brought for my father. These include two pairs of glasses one that wait for my father to wake up. His glasses sit on top of a bible that has been read so many times that there is tape holding the binding together. On the opposite side of the bed is a bed table, which holds a cup and water pitcher. The floors are white tile with gray specks that are as cold as the rest of the room. Against the wall in front of the only widow is a chair that has a silver frame and orange vinyl seat and back. The room is so void of color that even the patient looks paler then he really is. Everything is sterile even the air which smells of disinfectant that hits you in the face when you enter. How is it that people come to a hospital to get better and they are faced with bleak walls and everything looking sterile, wouldn’t a room that is inviting with color and a few pictures help lift the sprits of the people that have to spend time here.