Before the New Year, I unfortunately had to make a trip to the hospital to visit a friend who suddenly became ill. When I arrived at the hospital via cab, I found myself wondering where I should enter—which door do I enter? I walked into the spacious lobby and found my way to the reception desk where I signed in, received a visitor's badge, and started my journey to finding my friend's room. I was amazed to find the hospital so quiet. I was also surprised to find a lot of beige complimented by beige. How would I find my way back to the front door again?

After a few turns and a stop at the nurses’ station, I found my friend's room. My friend's room also had painted beige walls but accented with a beige wallcovering. I was impressed with the amount of space in the room. At one point, there were seven people in the room, and we all had plenty of space. Were we helping or hindering the healing process with family and close friends nearby? My friend's hospital stay was relatively short—only a day or two—and she was on her way home. The room was clean, the staff was pleasant, her room and the surrounding area were quiet.

My experiences are all important to understand, contemplate, question, and debate; however, given the recent tragedy in Haiti, there is luxury in even having a functioning hospital to attend. There is a luxury to the room being clean and staff being present. There is luxury in basic needs.

It causes me to think about what I do on a day-to-day basis.