To be sick is to be miserable. To be confined to a ward in hospital is a worse. I had that experience recently after breaking my left leg in a football game. I was bedridden for five days.
It was an experience I dread to go through again. I was overwhelmed by loneliness although my parents visited me daily during the visiting hours. There were seven other patients in the ward with me, all strangers. Nurses and doctors who attended us were our only frequent visitors.
Despite my loneliness, I found comfort in the service of the nurses. They were all caring and courteous. I am particularly thankful to them for helping me to walk again. They walked with me patiently for two hours each day, supporting me as I limped along the corridors to exercise my right leg. That comforted me and hastened my recovery.
After the second week I was able to walk on my own. I used to pass the time walking from ward to ward. Once, I came across a patient who had one of his legs amputated. I began a conversation with him and he told me how he had lost his leg. He had diabetes and a sore on his leg turned gangrenous. My talk with him taught me a lesson. It was a relief to learn that I was actually quite fortunate. I could have been worse off.
I was discharged from hospital after a month. I had regained the use of my right leg completely. As I left for home, I resolved that I would think of people who are less fortunate. That should give me the strength and will power to overcome any difficulty.
Vocabulary
Confined—restricted to a place
Bedridden—forced to stay in bed
Dread—fear
