For most people, a hospital is a scary place. A hostile place. A place where bad things happen. Most people would prefer church, or school, or home. But I… grew up here. While my mom was on rounds, I learned to read in the O.R. gallery. I played in the morgue. I colored with crayons on old E.R. charts. The hospital was my church… my school… my home. The hospital was my safe place… My sanctuary. I love it here. Correction: loved it here.
Did you say it? ‘I love you. I don’t ever wanna live without you. You changed my life.’ Did you say it? Make a plan. Set a goal. Work toward it. But every now and then look around. Drink it in. ‘Cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow.
The human life is made up of choices. Yes or no? In or out? Up or down? And then there are the choices that matter: to love or hate, to be a hero or to be a coward, to fight or to give in, to live or die… Live or die? That’s the important choice, and it’s not always in our hands. Yes or no? In or out? Up or down? Live or die? Hero or coward? Fight or give in? I’ll say it again, to make sure you hear me: the human life is made up of choices. Live or die? That’s the important choice… and it’s not always in our hands.