Hospital

The Swedish word for hospital is 'sjukhuset', which literally means 'the sick house'. One of my flatmates, Andrew from Ghana, accompanied me to the sick house. I was seen to quite quickly, probably because I told them it hurt when I breathed in too deeply, and that I couldn't get to sleep last night because of it - they take breathing difficulties pretty seriously. The ward looked very similar to an English one, and the waiting room had that same depressing feel; but when I actually went into a room, it was much nicer. A female doctor listened to my breathing for a bit, then felt my chest with her hands. Obviously, with the pain I feel just from breathing, it hurts a lot to laugh or cough or burp or hiccup; and she started accidentally tickling me when she felt the side of my ribcage, prompting me to laugh while saying “that hurts.” After that, they took an X-ray, and then it all finished with her giving me some pills – an anti-inflammatory called Voltaren. Also, the doctor said 'recipe' when she meant 'prescription'.

Anyway, that’s about all there is to say, really. I’m home again, and it still really hurts if I do anything, or if I do not do anything. Here are some pictures of the hospital