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Bon Journal

Five star hospital

The hospital didn't look like a hospital. If anything, it felt like the kind of hotels I used to stay when I was travelling on business. The receptionist was very polite and discrete. My mother and I sat down in the cosy waiting area where other well-dressed, presumably patients, were waiting.

Soon after, my name was called. It was a bit disconcerting to hear "Doctor Ku" when I was really the patient. In fact, in my first consultation visit, the doctor asked me,"So, what kind of doctor are you?" My reply was more like a self-confession,"It's to do with mathematics and economics." Relieved, he said,"Oh! The real Ph.D."

The account executive told me that they had to upgrade me to the highest rated room because rooms at my level were all gone. A porter took my backpack and led us to a large room with a roof patio and ensuite bathroom. Except for the hospital bed and other equipment, it could have easily fooled us to believe that we were in a five star hotel.

A nurse came in promptly afterwards to introduce herself. She asked me to select my dinner, breakfast, and lunch menus. The selections read "gourmet." And later I found out that they were indeed gourmet-quality.

Soon afterwards, two businessmen came in and introduced themselves. They didn't look like the anaethetist and the surgeon at all.

In fact, it really didn't feel like a hospital. With the painting on the wall, the pink room could be in a nice hotel. Perhaps this was what the Nightingale Project meant.

9 July 2002 Tuesday

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