The nurse's daughter entered the ward of a dying man and when her mother ran d, she was shocked

After mistaking the door, the nurse's daughter entered the room of a dying man. As soon as she touched his hand, her mother ran into the ward and the unimaginable happened.


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Hospital stays are often dismal, especially if the attending physician carefully pretends that everything is fine, speaks in a deliberately loud cheerful voice and at the same time averts his eyes, coughs embarrassed and rubs the stethoscope hanging around his neck. Norman had long since given up expecting anything positive from either the weather or his physician.
That year, winter was notably harsh, with relentless snowstorms causing the hospital windows to shudder throughout the night. The city was blanketed by low, gray clouds that seemed to weigh down everything, obscuring the sun and the blue sky. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, the hospital wards were excessively heated, making the air stuffy and seemingly shimmer before one's eyes.
This was Norman's first hospital stay in nearly 35 years. Like anyone else, he had suffered from viral infections, weathered common colds, and even sustained a few fractures. However, he had always recuperated at home, seldom taking time off work.
Admitted to this medical institution, he quickly found himself overwhelmed by boredom. He, a very active person, who had never sat still for more than a few minutes since childhood, could not bear complete inactivity. On the one hand, he was terribly sorry for time, and on the other hand, it was painful to watch how slowly the minutes, hours and days dragged on.
He was hospitalized for acute pneumonia, which his mother attributed to self-medication. A sudden fever led him to seek relief in an advertised powder. However, within a few days, he was suffering from a severe cough. Suddenly came a terrible weakness, headache, chills, in general such a bouquet of troubles that even he, always ignoring health problems, was a little scared.
He was going to be cured in a few days, but all he achieved was that the temperature rose to an extremely high 40 degrees Celsius. And his friend, who came to visit the sick man, saw his almost dead pallor and drops of sweat on his forehead and took him to the hospital.
Recovering from the initial shock of his sudden hospitalization, Norman tried to adjust to the discomfort of his hospital bed. He sought advice on the internet, where experts assured him he would recover within one and a half to two weeks. However, they also warned of rare exceptions.
After two weeks in the hospital, it became clear that his case was an exception. "You see, Norman, you have a type of pneumonia we refer to as long-term. The pneumonic infiltrate in your lungs is resolving extremely slowly. Therefore, you'll need to stay with us for at least four more weeks," the doctor explained.
To Norman, the doctor's words sounded like a funeral march. He felt as though he wasn't going to die from pneumonia, but from boredom and immobility.
His mood worsened because he was in a separate single room. Initially, it seemed like a privilege upon admission, but now it felt like punishment. He listened enviously to the constant hum of conversations from the neighboring wards with their doors open.
Finally, he asked, "Doctor, can I be moved to the general ward?"
The on-call doctor looked at Norman confused and shook his head. "The ward is full. There's not a single spot available. Plus, in your condition, it's not advisable to be around others. You could catch something else, which wouldn't be good," he replied.
Norman lay there, angry at himself and the world. His mood worsened each day, even though it seemed impossible to get any worse the day before. It was as if his body were stuck midway between illness and recovery, unwilling to move forward.