glamorous giselle

You might know what its like to fly with first time flyers. I once flew with a whole family screaming at take off and landing. That was wild. More disturbing even, is to sleep in a hospital bed next to a first time patient. Giselle came in this afternoon with her suitcase packed for about three months. She arrived anxious as anything for her hip replacement, but still wore perfectly styled hair as if she had just left the hair dressers. Giselle was accompanied by her sister and she nervously fluttered around the room not knowing what was to happen next – poor thing. She was to be my new roommate. There is always a positive side to each situation – Giselle is hard of hearing, so I can leave the television or Tommy the Toshiba chanting my favorite albums as loud as I like. Hey, there is a German television station. Nice going, clinic.

Good thing too, that my own dressing covers my whole right ear. At least it deafens my ear. I am awake in my room typing away and enjoying the Hillsongs Hope album awaiting a late night visit from the surgeon, whilst Giselle is still busy calling all her friends one by one: “Pierrette, it is Giselle here –they told me to wash my whole body with Befarine, but I am not going put that stuff in my hair, I am not going to do that tonight, okay? I mean, you tell me to do one thing, but that is just too much (..) Yeah, that’s what I said, with Be-ta-dine”. Giselle then tells each of her friends to call her tomorrow evening – by which time I sure hope I will be out of the clinic – since she will still be under anesthetic. *Oops, secretary Sally has just popped out today. *
No, that’s mean Euphonies.

Actually, Giselle is quite sweet, when you think about it. But the annoying sweet type, just like Aurore in the train the other day, remember? Can’t explain it, but God forgive me.

This clinic has a very religious name “Saint Jean de Dieu” and must have been a monastery once since there is still a system of ‘brothers’ who assign you to your room. Giselle admitted sheepishly “That guy who came in, I didn’t know whether to call him ‘my priest’, ‘my brother’ or ‘sir’ or to confess my sins – cause I am not very religious, you know!”. That just made me crack up and I let her know that it is surely not compulsory to be religious, the clinic is just private. What a beautiful clinic too. From one side you can catch a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower and at the wing, the immense Tour de Montparnasse stands strong.

Nevertheless, I am sure glad I will be making my way out of this place just in time. It was kind of nice to have my own room. Now, there’s old lady parachute underwear hanging in the shower. I guess Giselle is used to washing her underwear when she is in the shower. Yes, to think I had my own room when I woke up after anesthetic is just wonderful.

I have now slipped out of my room since Giselle has decided to tell half of the world what the menu will consist of each day until she is out of the clinic. She stays in ten days so I jumped out just in time to find shelter near the coffee machine on the ward. This is the room with the beautiful view of the Montparnasse tower. I hope I am not grossing those out who actually want coffee. I mean, imagine this girl in pj’s sitting next to the coffee machine with half a bandage around her face and a pocket of blood reserve hanging from the ear. That is about enough to get Frankenstein climbing the banana trees.