Although I spent my last day in Granada at the hospital and bedridden, ironically I am thankful for this experience and I’ll tell you why.

I’m a very independent, self-sufficient person but there are times in life when you really just need a hand. Of course I always miss my family, but being sick in a foreign country really makes you miss your mother’s sympathy and chicken soup for the soul.

My second-to-last night in Granada I went for tapas with my friend at one of the (supposedly) best wine tapas restaurants in the city and ended up with severe food poisoning. I woke up suddenly at 3am and threw up every 10-15 minutes until 7:30am when I decided it was time to go to the hospital. One of my hostel roommates whom I had just met woke up early that morning and went to the pharmacy to find some medicine for me and ask for directions to the hospital, and she even offered to come with me to the hospital.

Let me prelude by saying how hospitals in Spain are different than in the United States. Of course, I knew the whole health care system is different than in the States, but you never fully understand how different it is until you experience it. I had visited the hospital to pick up a prescription for medication after my trip to Ibiza took a toll on me but that was pretty simple. Getting treatment is a whole different animal altogether.

After the doctor determines you need medical treatment from the Emergency Center, you and all the other emergency patients are placed in a room that just barely fits 15 reclining chairs. The mood in this room is exactly as you can imagine. Everyone is crying and in great pain which makes you realize you’re not the only one suffering. People are getting treated for all different things in this room, all right next to one another.

As my family knows, doctors always have a hard time finding my veins for an IV. However, in the States, doctors have patience because they have time. Here, the doctors have no time to waste, therefore I was constantly getting stuck with the needle for my IV in both arms and finally my hand. Needless to say, I am not handling it well and the woman next to me (who is also a patient) held my hand and said some words to calm me down. She also asked me how I was doing whenever I would sporadically wake up. I’ve never not been with family when this happened to me, much less around a dozen strangers watching this all conspire so her inherit compassion really meant to the world to me.

Another beautiful thing I witnessed happened when one patient needed help putting on her jacket. Another patient got up and helped the woman dress. Figuratively and literally, this really opened my eyes. When one patient would leave the other patients would wish them to feel better. There’s a slight irony because we’re all sick and struggling but it goes to show that kindness makes a difference. If you think you’re the only one struggling you’re sorely mistaken.

This experience restored my hope in us humans. Reading news articles we’re constantly bombarded with unfathomable stories about our society with no glimpse of return. I’m grateful I made lemonade out lemons from my experience and hope this added some faith in humanity for you as well. Please remember to spread simple acts of kindness, love, and compassion every day! Xx