"Life, do not talk of life .. .
people never ceases to amaze me.
Tonight (oibò) I spent an evening at the emergency room. I then discovered that there is a worst job of Snai: that is to be acceptance of an emergency!
Apart crazy parents who want to shelter children who have influence (which in the meantime spread germs to people on hold) the scene more "hilarious" was the lady splashed sicula! At 22 he wanted to force her daughter to admit it was not known if she was pregnant or not, no one knew what she was, but screaming on the great skill (if it is the peak) of the doctor who had examined her in the morning and that he was good because it was discharged. After minutes of screaming ape the poor man's acceptance found that the medical file on the computer did not contain the results of analysis of the morning nor the discharge sheet that had magically disappeared. Meanwhile, the lady insisted to go on the ward (do not you know) mixing senseless shouting threats. While this was happening, a crowd of people (family of 5 + 8 babies parents or similar) is catafiondata toward the exit, laughing as if they were left by the first of a comedy.
The faces of those who were waiting were these OO
It all ended with the lady who managed to get shelter and wandered through the hospital screaming that his rights, the man accepting that was vented with parents affected children (who have plagued all), the little family happy with the decision to spend a Saturday night and I alternate that with only two hours of waiting I managed to visit a doctor in case maritozzi: D
cool no? :
Illustration by Daniele Alfani .. sballottolava us as the train home. =)
Nothing goes as we would like. It 's so, we surrender to our smallness of being small. The fault is all we know of Copernicus and his theories. It was better not to know to be small, of being useless.
Things are broken in my world, fix it sometimes, but not very good, are often so fragile that they break even. It 'an imperfect world, I know, I accept it and watch it fade, rot and rebuild again. The world is subjective then. There are many worlds, many universes and many parallel realities.
Today I discovered that Terry Pratchett, one of my favorite writers found to be suffering from a rare form of Alzheimer's disease. Then it is unavoidable to think in the end, what you write, our smallness and fragility. He will leave us his dream, a dream written, a new universe, and I spit tiny universe can not do anything if you do not consider myself lucky to have known her world. This is the reality. The objective reality. And I can not even try to fix it.
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