Things int'l travel and hospitals have in common

Before you leave:
You never know exactly what to pack or how to dress.
Sure, pack reading material or work from the office but know you won't get to it.
All your expectations will be wrong.
Despite great scheduling on your part, once you get out of the car all bets are off.
As simple as the procedure is supposed to be, you make sure your will and house are in order.
You hear a lot of "we'll be praying for you."
Lots of paper work. Pull out the plastic. Try to remember dates and numbers that you need for no other occasion but this one.
Excuses: Can I afford it, does this really have to be done now, by you?

During:
You're told to get some rest only to have the lights turned on, be poked, prodded or fed every few hours.
You can't use your cell phone until it's over.
Rarely does your sleep pattern and the person's next to you match up.
Light-headed, nausea or general groggyness is part of the deal.
The light is anything but natural.
Do I talk to the person next to me or keep quite.
Meals come with limited choices.
You rarely eat everything on your tray. It looks better than it tastes and could probably use more salt and sugar.
There is never enough butter or jam.
Catsup is only offered with breakfast.
Silverware is just a bit wonky - too flat, too small or just oddly shaped. Sometimes there are sporks involved.
Not everyone you encounter will end up in the same place. But everyone will end up somewhere.
The batteries for your electronic devices won't last long enough and there is no place to charge them.
The music isn't your choice.
The people waiting on you look prettier at the beginning of their shift than at the end.
Bumps.
Parts of your backside fall asleep when the rest of you isn't.
You weren't sure how to dress but by the look of everyone else you see, neither did they.
Getting up to use the bathroom involves calculation, timing, some help and a bit of luck.
Entertainment is temporary.
How long things are supposed to take and how long they do take are two different things.
Nothing is in your control.

After:
The world looks different, bighter, louder, busier.
You have to relearn to walk.
There is an odd taste in your mouth.
More paperwork.
People are happy to see you but aren't sure how to hug you.
You can't carry your own bag.
There is a change in perspective that can't quite be pinned down but that you don't want to risk losing too quickly.
As long as you can walk away, it was at least somewhat successful.
People can relate but few will truly understand what it was really like.
You are thankful it is over.