Limi

Yesterday I went to "Szent János Korház", which is the biggest hospital in Budapest. Normally we go to First Med Clinic, or Telki, which are cozy, friendly and efficient private clinics.
Why the hell did they send me to Szent János??
It's a scary place. Big and ugly. 50 old buildings spread out on a huge fenced area.
All my senses screamed "RUN", but I'm sure there would be some dog patrols who would hunt me down when trying to escape over the fence.
I told myself, that it is maybe only the outside what looks a little grim, so I went in. Inside was worse.
If you have seen movies about the battle of Stalingrad, or seen the hospital wing of a Gulag in Siberia, you know what I mean... on top of that it was crowded and cold inside. The main entrance of building 25 was used also as emergency entrance, with ambulances lined up to deliver their content of wounded people. As it was the trauma unit, it was loads of bloody people pouring in. One in worse condition than the other.
Somehow they were pretty efficient, and there were plenty of staff in all kind of private winter jackets. Inside that is. So I got some X-rays taken within some minutes. Then some blood samples. The male nurse (if he was a  nurse, and not from the maintenance department) as the guy acted like a butcher. After assaulting the upper side of my hand for some minutes with a big needle, all the time mumbling "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he had to put a big pressure bandage on, to stop the worst bleeding. I gave my hand a glance, and saw the reason for the pain. Suffusion big as a half apple. A BIG apple. Then he tried his luck on my arm. After some new piercing attempts, he actually found a vein.
I was then lead up to the ward. To my surprise I got a newly renovated VIP room, with my own bathroom. Like another world.
The bed was nice, and I had plenty to read.
This morning they woke me up, took an EKG, shaved my leg and disinfected it with iodine (jod??). At 08.15 prompt, as promised I was on the surgery table. My surgeon, all the nurses in full battle outfit, the narcosis doctor with his anesthesia shot in his right hand, while he was checking my EKG results.
Then everything stopped. He was showing the printout to the surgeon, and after some Hungarian mumbling. The doc explained that they couldn't give me the anesthesia due to some irregularities with the EKG result. What the hell, I heard myself say far away in some echo, as I had got some blue pills before to keep me happy and calm.
Doc explained that the surgery had to be postponed. I asked him to continue anyway, without anesthesia. But he kindly refused.
So here I am, at home with a shaved orange knee. Still with a mess inside.
Will have a new EKG next week at First Med, and then we will see what will happen or not happen.

I had to draw a scar, not to disappoint little m too much: