As I sit quietly in this hospital room, the low hum of the air conditioner and the soft ding of the queue machine fill the air around me. And yet, in the middle of the silence, I catch myself wandering into the same restless thoughts: What is the purpose of life if everyone is going to die in the end? Do material things really matter if we're sick? Have I truly lived my life to the fullest—or have I just been chasing things that might not even matter in the long run?
In the middle of this reflection, I’m reminded of how this hospital visit came to be. Taking your loved ones to see doctors overseas might seem like a simple errand, but in reality, it’s a quiet act of love and patience. It’s not always easy and it never is -- confusing hospital systems, long lines, and your own emotions, all while trying to be there for someone else. I’ve personally experienced moments where I became easily triggered by small inconveniences—like a nurse’s oversight or what felt like an endlessly long wait. There was one particular time when I was so agitated that I broke down in tears because the nurse kept letting other patients go ahead of us. At the time, it felt so unfair, like we were being ignored or dismissed.
But then my fiancé said something that snapped me out of that spiral. He gently reminded me that maybe those patients had more urgent needs—and that we were lucky our case was just a routine check-up. That hit me hard. I realized I was so focused on the discomfort, I missed the bigger picture. Being “skipped” might’ve actually been a quiet blessing. It meant we weren’t in crisis. We were okay.
From today on, I’ve tried to meet these moments with a little more grace. A little more patience. Things won’t always go the way I want—but there’s often a hidden reason behind it, one that asks for understanding more than frustration.
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