The Nearest Hospital

You know you’re old when you choose a place to live based on the number of minutes to the nearest hospital. You know you’re old when the first thing you do in a new place is learn the bus schedule so you can go places. You know you’re old when you spend time in the sun to make sure you have enough Vitamin D rather than a tan. You know you’re old when . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the nearest hospital.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “The Nearest Hospital”

  1. The keening wail forces me to pull over. Whoosh! The ambulance roars past on its way to the nearest hospital. Quickly I send off a silent prayer. A tree-trimming father who fell? A son who took all his parents’ pills to stop the arguments? Instantly, a family is changed.

    1. There is a lot of imagery there in a son downing bottles of pills. Definitely not a tree-trimming father in that concept. There’s so many actions and images associated with that idea of poppin pills to get a bigger result.

  2. I don’t like the smell. The lighting’s always bad. I know the staff who work there are good people but sometimes it seems like they don’t care. I know it’s not their fault. Budget cuts and rising numbers of patients because of closures make it hard for them. I’m dreading the day I have to go to the nearest hospital.

  3. When the nearest hospital is directly behind your house, a short walk can get you there. On the downside picking up your child and running them to the hospital is an exhausting trip. All said and done though the convenience is living back to back with a hospital far outweighs the occasional screeching alarm. If you ever carried your four-year-old daughter, with a split open head, to the ER, I am sure you would agree.

  4. The nearest hospital is a quack sitting in his doorway, swatting flies that swarm over his collection of rotting / fermenting herbs , in various bottles and vials, evil looking and smelling like a month old heap of compost.
    A shiver runs up the spine at the thought of being treated by this “medicine man” , in this remote village , separated from civilization by vast acres of lush green fields, and no motorable roads.
    This is twenty-first century, and such a place exists on the planet earth, where no one owns a computer ;no one has heard of internet; electric supply lasts precisely two hours; that too , in “rich” households; piped water is a distant dream; and people still die of malaria , and cholera; as they used to, in colonial India.

  5. It’s stressful crossing the road in Shanghai. The cars and bikes are honking senselessly. I step off the sidewalk and suddenly hit the ground. Bitumen grazes my face. I see black. I get up and blood flows like a rapid from my nose. I ask myself: where’s the nearest hospital?

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