Hey Diary!

I have missed you, I have a blog now, but it doesn’t really measure up to you. I sprained my ankle, and am currently bedridden. It happened when I went out the first time I went out with a new boy. I tripped on nothing, and fell in the street. Not going to lie, it was pretty hilarious. The only not hilarious thing is this huge cast on my leg. It looks like I broke my leg, but it really isn’t that bad. I went to Chile’s oldest hospital, Hospital Sotero del Rio. I had always gone by it on the metro, but never thought I would have the opportunity to check it out from the inside and I didn’t want to have that opportunity. But my grandpa brought me there the morning after, because my ankle was still the size of a golf ball ewwww. When we got to the door, my eyes widened and I know I probably got that “oh I’m definitely going to die in here” look on my face. There was a women lying on the floor, a lot of very sickly looking people, and a stray dog scratching its ears in the middle of the waiting room. Taking a deep breath, I followed my grandpa to the admission disk. It was strangely efficient, and I only had to wait like fifteen minutes. They called me in with a group: an older woman who had a sling on her arm, a not friendly looking woman, and a man who was for realz wheezing and shaking. As they took our vitals together, I made conversation with the older woman. She worked there and fallen on her way up to breakfast. She fainted, and dang girl, I can relate. After the vitals, I limped over to room 4, which was at the veeeeeery end of the hall. I was wearing my pajamas and crocs, and so was the man beside me. Twins. There was no privacy, and I couldn’t help but observe everything around me. It was a public hospital, and the cafeteria tile floors and peeling different shades of blue paint were overwhelming. There were those classic government signs making it resemble a hospital, but it just kind of made me sad to be there. It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t up to date. It was public health care. As I sat on the broken X ray table, I joked around with the nurse, and talked to the two ladies that were accompanying me throughout my hospital visit. The older woman and the not friendly looking one were really sweet, and they wished me luck as I went to go get a cast. First off, don’t know why I need a cast. Second of all, it’s pretty cool, everyone wants to sign it. The cast room was straight up gross though. Trash overflowing with papers, papers on the floor, and the mat that I had to lie on was wet. He told me to lie face down on the wet mat, and boom, cast on. My grandpa wheeled me out, and since that day, I have had to hop around the house like a one legged bunny. The boy I like told me that one legged bunnies are the cutest bunnies, so I’m not out of the game yet. When I fell, he taped a bunch of bandaids on my leg and it was stupid cute. But I am going back in the United States in August so I don’t know why I care so much. Going to pretend I don’t care about it, and hopefully be able to sleep and have dreams of living on an island of pizza and the strokes. Buenas nachos.