I started the day at my father’s hospital, asking doctors rhetorical questions like where do you think we are, in the film The Cuckoo’s Nest?*; continued running amok to catch my train, travelled six hours back to Salzburg and arrived with an only 30 minutes delay to my twelve-hours-long night-shift. This is my personally developed guide on how to live on 24 hours a day.
* no, it’s not a psychiatry ward for ordinary criminals but it could easily be mistaken for it if it comes to the attitude of the personal. Their main policy is: your patient is your enemy. My relationship with them is now the following: I hate them and they hate me. I spent the last 10 days with throwing tantrums daily and accusing nurses and doctors with dilettantism and murder. None of them will ever know that I’m a genuinely nice person who was brought up to be polite and forthcoming even with her own killers.