|
When I was in my early 20's I went to Galveston to have some surgery done at John Sealy hospital.
We ended up needing to wait a couple of days before I could check into the hospital, so they offered to put us up in a motel on The Strand by the beach.
I figured it would be all nice and have rooms that connected to the sand like you see on t.v.
Nope, it's across the busy highway, and down the grassy hill. That's the least of it, though.
The motel was a cheap affair that looked like it was last renovated in the early 70's.
The air-conditioner was a loud squeaking thing that was built into the wall and was as big as a coffin.
The towels looked clean, but they were as thin as a wash cloth.
The pillows were hardly bigger than throw pillows, and the bedspread had a musty smell to them.
I'm glad I didn't have a blacklight.
All in all, I was glad to check into the hospital. (though, from the stories I've now heard about the germs in hospitals give me pause)
|