..and you realize how much you have to be grateful for.
You realize that beyond a point your wealth, your education, your contacts, your smartness (or the lack of any of these), just doesn’t matter. Only the skill of your doctor does. Pray for her.
You are wiser. The next time you feel a niggle, you’ll check out immediately with your friendly GP, rather than waiting till there is no option but the XYZ certified, swanky, multi-specialty hospital.
You see a live demo of the value of medical insurance. You need to stay in the floral-disinfectant smelling bed, eat “healthy” food, and wear a striped uniform for two days for what might have taken a few hours in the OPD.
You are so much better at playing sudoko on the phone that you can even beat your kids at it.
You pray. Specially if the bright red door painted “FIRE EXIT” in big bold letters has a shiny, big, padlock on it!
