I know it may seem to be a bit early to be reporting about my first day here, but there isn't much going on, so. Yes. Hi. Here's the dealio.
Dropped off at airport around 10 for a 10:50 flight that ended up being delayed til 12:10. An irritating experience, but no big. I managed to stay occupied. Plane ride sucked cos apparently I now get sick on tiny planes. My body used to not care, but the past 2 times I've been on a small plane nausea and headachey fun. Wheee. I maybe sat next to a lesbian. She was very paranoid about flying. She held hands across the aisle with what might have been her lover. Maybe they're just Wifeys.
Driving into the city always makes me nostalgic. Every image is a familiar one even though I wouldn't be able to drive it myself. What a maze! We park, and even the hospital parking is astronomical (12 bucks for the first hour, 37 something for all day.) Of course, the hospital is right across from Central Park. On Madison. Pretty neat.
It is cold and there is snow. Not much. Just leftovers. But there is. Lots of dirty snow in the city. It's so old and colossal. One of the most powerful places in the world, but most of it seems to be crumbling. It made me uncomfortable as I compared it to Dubai. How long before NYC becomes a relic of the past? A wealthy supermodel who's aged so terribly that nobody goes to her glamorous parties anymore. Dubai is an exotic dark-haired bombshell with low taxes and god damn you oughta see the towers on her. NYC is sagging under the weight of it's own weariness.
But I digress. The hospital itself is ridiculously large. It is actually comprised of several buildings which have been connected by glass walls. There are live trees in these areas.. it's neat. Walking through it was spent half in awe, half in frenzied mental map forging.
My father is in a special room behind several doors. It's cos he has no immune system. To enter one must desanitize and don a mask so you can breathe your own air. Which is a lot of fun, really... His room is tinier than my dorm and consists of 3 walls and a curtain between it and the nurses station. Two of the walls are actually air vents. The air in this room is constantly flowing and being filtered. As has been the case whenever his wbc is low, he can only drink sterilized water. Bottled water is a no-no. So it's serious business about the anti-germ-ness. He has 10 or so different little bags IV-dripping into him and he isn't allowed to leave the room.
He makes negative comments a lot. Not that I can blame him. The past 6 months have sucked incredibly. But I still chide and scold him anyway, cos being positive when sick works wonders. Except my chide I mean mock and scold I mean kid. Comparinf his room to my college dorm. Talking about how it is prime real estate because literally, if this was an apartment of the same size in this same location, it would cost more than a grand monthly. And this is all free. So he traded some comfort for better doctors. This is the part where it really counts, the transplant.
So I'm camping here. As usual, my father has captured the affections of all the women around him, so I've been provided with a sleeping-place. I intend to explore the city, or atleast, this general area, during the mornings while I am here. I am aware that my grandparents will try to take me back to their place, but I will resist. Someone needs to stick around with Waffle and keep him cheery. No one else can get away with the kind of tough-love I give him. He gets mad at them.
I guess I should be feeling terrible. But I can't. I'm with him so I'm happy. If things go wrong I'll get upset then. So meanwhile I'll make this into as much of an adventure as I can.
Yep.
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