ON POETRY, WRITING AND RANDOM CULTURAL MATTERS

Monday, 5 January 2015

Going to the hospital in France

A scary prospect, involving unusual vocabulary, but I have to report that despite the expected wait of several hours, Hotel Dieu,  was an oasis of calm and relative efficiency compared to the high levels of stress and tension one feels in UK Accident and Emergency departments.

The only total hassle is that there is no pharmacy in the hospital and given my sprained ankle I had to take a cab and have it wait for me while I got kitted out with ankle support, crutches and drugs. Pity.

But I did have a beautiful building to admire while I was twiddling my thumbs waiting for an X-ray. That's to be expected from the oldest hospital in Paris, next to Notre Dame.

No comments:

Post a Comment