Doesn’t it seem like time drags in hospitals? The shortest little bits of time seem to drag out twice as long as everywhere else. You’d think everyone would be in a hurry and instead it’s as if everyone just woke up from a nap.

The nurse that wraps your arm waits forever as each strip of plaster soaks. The cast is warm against your arm at the beginning but uncomfortably cold before she finishes. You’ve been given a shot for pain, but you feel a sad embarrassment inside. Six weeks seems like an impossibility long wait to be able to use your arm again. You hope that the cast is off when swimming lessons start up in the spring.

Glum.

At least you don’t have to practice piano anymore.