Emergency 48 hours in the corridor
48 hours to live in a report by Channel D
Hôpital Notre-Dame.
Ploguée I solute between two peaks of fever
I have nothing else to do than to analyze what is happening around me.
I always enjoyed watching human nature. Analyze the behavior of urban wildlife.
I was served for that. In
jacket attached (or rather, open to every wind) in the back, vulnerability brings people to their true nature.
There, behind the curtains that serve as watertight bulkhead not Pantoute I still a little better before it takes all kinds to make a world. A grumpy old
stunted, poor bastard who does nothing but complain about everything. There was no longer to hear swearing, whining, complaining, offended, angry. At first glance, it's a tiring first class. After 24 hours, we understand that, perhaps, he feels lonely. And old. And tired. He wants to get attention but do not know how. While he maintains his "détestabilité. So that no one forgets. Search the bete noire throughout.
It must weigh heavy mautadit a lifetime. Good fallen woman who tries to give a capacity that it did not. Withdrawal of large bowling cheap, delivered at home. The misery of the world wants him out of Yeul. And it rings and rings and resounds. It wants and requires. And rattle and ended with "squealing his camp around here because you have me not my câlisses with your exams."
That must weigh heavily in a lifetime mautadit .
Police. Who are the watch. Waiting for one who does not give his real name because probably in some small caliber shenanigans is busting his head on the wall. Violence. Exasperation. Heckling. He will leave standing, but chained.
It must weigh heavy mautadit throughout life.
An immigrant. Asia. Which can not be understood. Who whispers in vain. Ill and one only, immured by his Wall of China.
That must weigh heavily in a lifetime mautadit . And there 's
moua. Who finds that even in a corridor of the emergency stretcher is my comfy as Queen Elizabeth.
When we did the bush, there is not much to console, I think.
Nurse (they are holy, those women, drug dealer with this twilight zone all day) laugh at my comments.
I broil the body, but I'm in good hands. I slap in
alternation of uncontrollable shaking and sweat baths, "which bring out the nasty." My mind wanders
to my father and my grandfather before me were "patients" not eager Pantoute.
I stand with the family and keep my morale.
I really think the true nature of people is reflected in an emergency.
J'me is not worse.
J'me is lucky. It
not weigh heavy in my life Pantoute .
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