This morning, around 5 30 am, I was in the waiting room of Toronto Western Hospital, on the Bathurst Street, south of College, attending to family medical emergency.
On my way down there, I saw a car accident on the Bathurst and St Claire intersection: I just saw one car, badly damaged, and ambulance, and shiny little pieces of broken car parts, and a few of police officers. It looked almost surreal in the dark, empty street. Upon arrival to the ER, not long after, I saw a woman being brought in on the stretcher. The waiting room was half empty.
The hospitals in Canada, for some reason, do not smell like hospitals ( if you know what I mean, that disinfectant smell). ER paramedics, one tall male and short female, were chatting with the woman, who, in spite of the situation she was in, appeared to be calm and comfortable. I did not want to stare, but was very curious was she the driver of the car I saw just moments ago. Do not we all wonder what happens to people who are in a car accident that we witness? It was very hard for me to hear the conversation: the male paramedic was adjusting her intravenous pain killer, she almost smiled few times while talking to them, and I just heard bits and pieces of the conversation: she was in the restaurant, went to the bar after ( she did not look like she was drunk, and she looked like more she was coming back home from work, more like a mature, serious person, well groomed), and then she said something like: "I wanted to go to Bathurst and Bloor", as if she was trying the say that she was not even supposed to be at Bathurst and St. Claire, and that somehow this whole mess could have been avoided, "and..." , I could not hear her anymore, and I did not want to look in their direction, as I know it would have been very rude to do that. Last thing I heard was that she was asking how long will it take for her broken leg to heal. Do not we all want bad things to be undone quickly, do not we all regret decisions we made that brought us to the situation that is painful for us. Woman on the stretcher, wrapped in an orange blanket, disappeared behind double "do not enter" emergency room doors.
Soon after, another drama unfolded. I saw security guards, going back and forth with their "walkie-talkies". " I am calling 911.", the tall male security guard was saying. After about five minutes, the police arrived, three officers, two female and one male. The woman in the Psychiatric ER was, apparently yelling she was going to kill everyone there (I was eavesdropping on the security guard whisper to the police officer while they were hurrying in the "do not enter" door).
I was just wondering, what kind of a mental "car accident" brought her so much the pain that she could not cope anymore. And, why, we as people, are so much more understanding of a physical pain, as oppose to emotional pain.
The new day began.
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